astronaut blues

driven by the electric sense that the skies are not limited,
that there is no future tense, no bluer hues.
above the terrestrial plane, nothing but fond memories adrift in my brain.
the lights in my helmet, houston, my friends,
are only for the longing of the a man lost to the world
flying, floating coldly in a celestial void, too far from anywhere
to care.
no need for freud, no referential icons;
no green slave women. no klingons.
just wishes for dirt and streams and longings that scream.
no need for a pillow to hold vast empty dreams,
my mind is wide open, the void is pure black.
telemetry dripping like rain down my back.
oh to be earthbound, toes in the soil that nourished my species,
sunlight on my features,
my weight like a cadaver holding me down
oh for a referential horizon, to understand my own fate.
but no destiny, no orbit, no sphere.
only so much of nothing, everywhere, here.
drifting billions of miles. already away from where i just was.
eyes growing feebler, bones growing thin,
hands getting weaker,
sails set to solar wind.
exploding stars, black holes littering the path.
everywhere is made form the math.
never ending solitude, my own mindless wrath at,
the choice ive made to travel this space.
to search of knowledge on behalf of my biology
surrounded by tin and freak technology.
if only more modest aspirations id had
to be glad to have grown crops or led nations.
but the void called me ever.
another destiny
was foretold for this withering carcass.
as my time burns behind me
the knowledge came glittering and blue that
this murderous vacuum is just nowhere.
the soul shrivels palpably each passing mile
and the body revolts to be so kept encaged
what rude torment what hateful rage
fills this body, and this page.
n spite of programs, switches and gear
this flesh is everything, the limit is here.
no other future but that in this skin
the frailest of vessels in the void and the vast
without the craft and space suit
fate would intervene, at last.
but the machine could endure
millennia without me in it.
is this still human or part of machine !
what does it mean
to drift endlessly hopelessly across nothing, forever !
am the fulcrum or lever !
where does it end, where did it begin.
what is mortality ! was there ever a sin !
am i the seed or am i the watcher !
what telemetry measures my loss of being !
so long dearest blue dirty waterlogged planet.
adieu my last wish to see green, soak my feet in the water, taste salt on the fresh mist
next waypoint whatever, please can i just die !
the self is moribund. the sense of discovery atrophied.
not enough even for seed.
is this the sadness of spacemen, the displaced emotion !
or just the separation anxiety from the mother world.
i dont know.
have to go.