What ever was there to know,
Whatever was there to have
on hand to so be questioned.
To question
answer
but on and off again,
Sinful friendliness
you are no help
at all.
Only past misconstruction
and always trifled hours.
2/16/11
To Question
Posted byJames J JacksonPosted inart, Authors, Change, Culture, identity, literature, Love, Mindfulness, Peace, philosophy, Poem, Poems, Poet, poetry, Poets, Romance, Sex, Sexuality, Society, stream of consciousness, Writers, WritingTags:art, Gonzo, Knowledge, life, literature, love, Mindfulness, Nature, Peace, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, sex, writer, Writers, writing
Published by James J Jackson
I'm a poet from California. View more posts
James J Jackson 