Lorne Kimber

Lorne KimberTwo Poems

A Poem

Ask me why,
I’ll tell you nil.

Nil is nothing.

Nothing is something.
Something has a meaning,
Which is unknown.

Knowing is thinking.
Thinking hurts.

Hurt is pain.
Pain I dislike.

Dislike I do many,
People, are busy.
Busy with nothing.

My but you are strange.
No strange I am not.

Life is strange.
But death is the answer.


Love is a dream,
Which I share with myself,
In the emptiness of my mind.

Love is the feeling only a father
Can feel on the birth of his first child.

Love is the years of turmoil and strife
Of life’s end loves left behind.

Love is a jewel, its essence so rare,
To possess it one must be a thief.

Love is at last in death’s embrace,
The incomprehensible tear.

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