#comets - Hello Poetry

never knew it, never was I self-percepted, that anything exceptional, lay within, neither obvious or dormant, was just an ordinary if not, extra-ordinary pained child by peers and my surrounders and my own words yet today, do not confer any distinction when yours irradiate me into a stunned and silenced reverie, a reminder, a minder, that talent recognizes no laws of equilibrium, equality, and certainty not, equity so I read with shocked, shocked, I tell you, bemusement but comprehensive perception when the young and extra~special confide, their own misperceptions, overwhelmed by the anxiety of the billions of sky stars, and letters in their twinkling orbs when forming identifiable comets with tagalong dust trails^ of the debris of words that are formed by their travels and travails on orbits not necessarily predetermined by gravitational adult pulleys, a gravity upon their projected, sometimes directed, sometimes not, trajectory *"and yet, though an orbit is a type of trajectory, not all trajectories are orbits"* nor are *"some comets, particularly those from outside our solar system, that move so fast that the Sun's gravity is not strong enough to capture them into a closed orbit* *These comets follow an open, curved path through the solar system and then continue on into interstellar space, never to be seen again*" so be advised, as you reassemble the debris from the multi~universe, when assembling your owned, unique~verse, create your tail and trail, the futurity of you is to be both silent and loud, absorbing and disgorging, to awed and to be humbled, by all that and those who went before, all once younger and talented, and knew this self-same anxiety, but never let the fearing of their the mystery of plotting of their path deter them from exploring the skies and deep mines of the sea trenches where undiscovered mysteries abide <nml> 4:59am in the city where one can never see the light of the stars, particularly by their owners

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Oct 1, 2025

Oct 1, 2025 at 7:25 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

The Anxiety of the Young and Talented Comets

never knew it, never was I self-percepted, that anything exceptional, lay within, neither obvious or dormant, was just an ordinary if not, extra-ordinary pained child by peers and my surrounders and my own words yet today, do not confer any distinction when yours irradiate me into a stunned and silenced reverie, a reminder, a minder, that talent recognizes no laws of equilibrium, equality, and certainty not, equity so I read with shocked, shocked, I tell you, bemusement but comprehensive perception when the young and extra~special confide, their own misperceptions, overwhelmed by the anxiety of the billions of sky stars, and letters in their twinkling orbs when forming identifiable comets with tagalong dust trails^ of the debris of words that are formed by their travels and travails on orbits not necessarily predetermined by gravitational adult pulleys, a gravity upon their projected, sometimes directed, sometimes not, trajectory *"and yet, though an orbit is a type of trajectory, not all trajectories are orbits"* nor are *"some comets, particularly those from outside our solar system, that move so fast that the Sun's gravity is not strong enough to capture them into a closed orbit* *These comets follow an open, curved path through the solar system and then continue on into interstellar space, never to be seen again*" so be advised, as you reassemble the debris from the multi~universe, when assembling your owned, unique~verse, create your tail and trail, the futurity of you is to be both silent and loud, absorbing and disgorging, to awed and to be humbled, by all that and those who went before, all once younger and talented, and knew this self-same anxiety, but never let the fearing of their the mystery of plotting of their path deter them from exploring the skies and deep mines of the sea trenches where undiscovered mysteries abide <nml> 4:59am in the city where one can never see the light of the stars, particularly by their owners