MOORLANDS OF THE NOT
An anonymous poem
- CROSS the
moorlands of the Not
- We chase the gruesome When;
- And hunt the Itness of the What
- Through forests of the Then.
- Into the Inner Consciousness
- We track the crafty Where;
- We spear the Ego tough, and beard
- The Selfhood in his lair.
- With lassos of the brain we catch
- The Isness of the Was;
- And in the copses of the Whence
- We hear the think bees buzz.
- We climb the slippery Whichbark tree
- To watch the Thusness roll;
- And pause betimes in gnostic rimes
- To woo the Over Soul.
"Moorlands of the Not"
is reprinted from A Nonsense Anthology. Ed. Carolyn Wells.
New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1915.