white space

The most beautiful is the object
which does not exist....
neither blindness
nor death can take away the object
which does not exist.
mark the place
where stood the object
which does not exist
it will be a simple dirge
for the beautiful absence...



Now all space swells like an ocean
a hurricane beats
on the black sail..
now you have empty space
more beautiful than the object
more beautiful than the place it leaves
it is the pre-world
a white paradise
of all possibilities
you may enter there
cry out vertical-horizontal
perpendicular lightning strikes the naked horizon....



Obey the counsels
of the inner eye
do not yield
to murmurs mutterings smackings
it is the uncreated world
crowding before the gates of your canvas
obey the counsels of the inner eye
admit no-one
extract
from the shadows of the object
which does not exist
from polar space
from the stern reveries of the inner eye
a chair.
beautiful and useless
like a cathedral in the wilderness



Place on the chair a crumpled tablecloth
add to the idea of order
the idea of adventure
let it be a confession of faith
before the vertical struggling with the horizontal
let it be quieter than angels
prouder than kings
more substantial than a whale
let it have the face of lost things.
we ask reveal o chair
the depths of the inner eye
the iris of necessity
the pupil of death



---Z.Herbert.

There is a place. Like a person. You know the name. But that is all you know. Knowing is not everything.

On a rainy day your friend asks you: but does this place exist, is it real for instance, and you just stare, then shrug your shoulders. Is this a question?

Nothing matters-except the secret. Hold it close to your breast.Say the name with your eyes closed and in time, out of time, the door will open. It exists, if at all, for you.