What level-headed technobot will be,
with plastic suit and focused eyes alight
the first to face some distant galaxy,
what jargon will articulate this sight?
The drone of an empiric devotee
just can’t convey the awe of gods in flight;
if only Shakespeare were alive today
and felt an urge to skim the Milky Way.
Are You Reading Me?
To touch the stars . . . an eternal dream of men.
ReplyDeleteI think anonymous poet said it best. Less is more so therefore I will say no more.
ReplyDeleteHey thanks a lot to both of you. This was inspired by a scene in the movie 'Contact' which I just recently watched again. If I could afford it I'd be on that space station right now playing 'Space Oddity' on my acoustic in zero G. Take care,
ReplyDeleteBob
There was a time when the artists and writers were the scientists too. Perhaps this change is why modern science often stagnates, without creative thought to propel it.
ReplyDeleteWhat good is a poet merely in love with the sound of their own lyrics? They lead us nowhere but to their vanity. Better, show me the poets with a thirst for truth and a passion for reaching upward, so their words can carry me into heavenly rivers of ether.
Hi twisted,
ReplyDeleteMaybe that will happen when someone or something defines the truth, until then there's nothing wrong with a catchy tune. I daresay anyone posting anything for public consumption directs the reader to their vanity (whether they recognize it or not). Thanks for stopping by,
Bob