In the cold gray cloudy days of an Oregon winter...A poem I just finished writing, and though it is framed from the negative, it still points the mind toward a dream of beauty, pleasure, and shared philosophy.
21st Century Epicurean Longing
We have no real garden in which to meet,
No bodily sensations of greetings and smiles,
No warmth of hands, or hugs,
Nor pats on the back.
No lesson plans, no vocalized discourse,
Nor daily practice of sublime repartee,
No philosophical banter, or audible laughter,
Nor real faces which wink or smirk in midst of debate.
No apples, no pears, no pomegranates,
Nor fig trees to leisurely pluck as you please,
No shared bread, wine and cheese,
Nor flute, drum, or happy dancing feet.
No real kepos for me,
No real kepos for you,
And yet do I dream how we could show,
That atoms do gloriously swerve,
And rightly prove it is so.
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Post edit: 12/19/2021
I apologize again if this feels heavy...Please see the revised version of this poem below. We must always look to our own actions in creating the means for meeting our needs and necessary desires. Even if it seems impossible at first, given time new ideas will come forward. I am looking ahead to 2022 and the further development of the "online kepos".
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In the midst of winter does anyone else dream of Kepos? And if so, what do you dream of?
