On the shore


Wave, wave, wave

Jagged rock losing its edge over iteration

Round pearls washing ashore

Reflecting the also round moon

My cigarette also without edge

A custom started thousand of years ago

In a hut with bush leaves and shamans

Until the iteration concentrated

Into a filtered cylinder

Iterations washing ashore a round consciousness

Edges on the rise



Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Betsy Calabaza

Betsy Calabaza


blooms — crazy rants masked as abstract experimental philosophy. s/o CS Peirce