Questions
I go back in pearl-white consciousness Where lies my own future possibility Thousands of gray existence questions Remain to be answered in the finite space Filled with tiny snow-flakes of fallible logic When I finally go knowledge shall arrive In luminous trails and gusts of wind bringing Autumn-leaves of answered questions.
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Poetry based upon actual experiences, not one thought up in the intellectual aridness of a pseudo-thinker. Words as they mean in the specific context of recollected thought or image , not meaning several things at a time but that which re-creates an aura or a haze of an earlier experience.
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