Stardust in the mind,
I contemplate in exact answers,
for the fulfillment of a question
that beckons forgiveness.
Like silver slivers off the scales of salmon
resting on the riverbank,
the moonlight lights the waters,
deep still waters,
perusing in deep thought...
our existential questions
revealing gravitational pulls,
gazes of the moon’s curiosity.
Solaris' twin investment. Space
as an all-defined, ever expanding
cold antlantis of possibility.
The possibility. For each of us. and
Within me. Towards you.
I sing the song of myself
with ancestral voice,
with lips that flow on song.
I hear it all and hear it not.
I hear everything and nothing.
The salacious demands
of the bourgeousie, sleeping in the sea.
They belong to me. We all see
ourselves in the sea.
I hear it all and I hear it not.
The possibility of us,
our pulls and passions,
our search for the not
within our space in time.
In correlation. And love. Our search for love.
And hope. Our search for hope as well.
And passion and productivity and
demand for meaning and reaction and
calm and obedience and growth and result
and dishevelment and touching the stars.
The will to live.
I hear it all and I hear it not. The question asking.
The question, needing forgiveness, beckons the yet.
Yet the not is the not. The not is not what is counted, Oh.
Oh. It is the intention.
Not yet...not yet
Will, Live, Life, Existential, Poem, Poetry, Parker, Jennings, Free, Free Verse, Blank, Blank Verse, Tag, Whitman, Meaning, Human, Humanity, Space, Philosophy, Life