Voices or words? Which do we hear in our head?
Words, I vote. Voices\, I imagine beings speaking words or noises meaning things to ears familiar with the noise maker by some relationship both acknowledge. Both act as if the noise or sound or words mean something. Vociferous authority.

I heard, from Isaiah Berlin,

Quotes later, maybe

Notes or journals or epics or madness or joy/pax in ever resting try-umph
Cowboy with a double-dose of try and a pertinent portion of umph
The hero did not **** Indians nor break horses, he gentled horses and listened to winds and watched the spider webs shiver,
That sound, the sound of prairie spider webs at the edge of the buffalo
There really were fifty million buffalo on the continent in pre-catholic infection from inquestered minds, making key-**-tee famous for
archetypical claiming the character, the being, the manifestation

of chivalric folly forever

be caused, in those days...

--------
a year later, near enough 12-15-2018

I saw a blue bird as I took a curve

on one of my many roads with double yellow lines

they all meander in rythm with creaks that once flowed
fairly
regular
through these vallies and mini-canyons

creeks creak and call my attention to a misspelt

utterance, and I imagine I am a mek being
programed to
withstand

accent based pre-judge-idice in my AI, whom I am training.

A lesson. Probably can be found in a phrase.

How relavant is Larry the Cable Guy?
More subtle than any creature

legion, for we are many

Jim Carrey?
Very. Larry the Cable Goy. He read 'ees Kammoo, too.

Sisyphus happiness,
that ain't no ***** thinkin'

Hell, what could be better than this?
While hoping for a hick-up

oh no the juice just hit my frontal cortex after my livver made some lining adjustments to meet the need for speed in terms

celerity clarity C does equal some thing
time tells or
do you tell time. I'm
leaning tward
telling time to wait a minute

Do you think Sisyphus could be happy?
Nonono, not Camus's Sisyphus, Jesus

that would be crazy.
Can you imagine Jesus,
Mel Gibsoned envisioned onthe cross version?

Him, imagine walking through the gate of any hell you ever heard explained,
by a Jesuit.

(Mormon hell, despite comedic myth, the worst place a certified paid-up Mormon child can attain is the teliostic king dom.
Really? Telial tel lie eil kingdom?

Yup. Really.
There are three kingdoms of glory: the celestial kingdom, the terrestrial kingdom, and the telestial kingdom. The glory we inherit will depend on the depth of our conversion, expressed by our obedience to the Lord’s commandments. It will depend on the manner in which we have “received the testimony of Jesus” (D&C 76:51; see also D&C 76:74, 79, 101).))))

Woe, paren-the-sees thees us, we's the enemy, Pogo Possum

Jesus on earth day, walking through hell with me, imagine Jesus H. Christ

walking into hell and laughing at me
for betting on the wrong idea.

Set me feree, why dontcha girl.... referee

I was refered to you. A daysman, Job called for a daysman.

I'm certified. I can use my augmentation and religamentation to reality,
wirelessly, to find relevant qutes in cult classics.

The idea of cultivation has been twisted in to Monsterous ropes
, cultivating a following based on the meaning in a jot

that would take some sacrifice, some sacred making, some secret unseeable save for the few

who learned the value of going over edges by learning to  play
Minecraft, forever.
It's like riding a bike,
but no gravity so no gyroscopic utilitys are required.

Grown ups who practice believe they control the game,
the game disagrees and that

makes the world go 'round.

Don't let the accent fool ya, as that preacher with jet he learned to fly, says.
Knowng the name of a thang thanks for the twang,
Richard (not ****) Feynman said,
is not the same as knowing a thing.

Gawd, I knoooh, right>?
Who touched me? Virtue, the feelling of virtue drawn upon

a pump being
primed

to gush out waters that wipe Coca-cola from the map,
in terms of open market share and share alike

Coke was never imagined the actual
nectar of the gods.
That idea, drunken abandon and joy to the world

Interference, actual counter acting waves,

still, takes a while to get used
to still a storm, right?

You can imagine...
let your peace go out

Wait. Outa where? Whose peace if I ain't ever owned

oh. MY peace.
I see.

hmmmm

I could sing this and need no one to hear for me to be hapt.
happy is being happy haps happening in you on you all around you know

nameless wonders of right, right?
feels more than good like chocolate or adolescent visions of ***,
right?
feels like life living with me aware of all the roles I may play

ego me, I'd see ideas identify by taste of the words that give them

life, animation, motivation, weight for gravity to interact with,
worth
base on weight

the heavier the idea. Like gold to an alchemist,
back in those days.

floating on the broad Sarrgossa, or better to my mind
the great salt
lake still as

still may be, have you ever been still?
Did you know,

you know, are you experienced? Are you really beyond
hope of life meaning more
than mortality?

Who defines my terms? I do, with the help of millions who agree
with entymology.com.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others,

meant what I meant when I spoke them,
that was a wrong belief. Unbelieving

quires time, quires and quires and quires time so often there

is a word that means exactedky that

requirement requires those initial quires

we, daysmen, we set the rules, boundaries, walls, bubble

whatever keeps you together, as a whole being and everything that entails or entales?

I have not the time to care, if I am entangled with the twins agin

for knowin So Yal is as cluse to Yule as any clue so far, Yahll

I believe I interrupted a confessin' you were reading.
For giving me nothing in return, we are debt free

you owe me nothing, until you do again,

we had us a Jubilee.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others, meant what I meant when I spoke them,
convincing myself so well, I convinced others

Like Kawasaki, Apple Kawasaki,
he's still famous right?

Fifteen Years? It was minutes when Warhol was predicting
dystopia and Irish jail cells were being plaistered with *****,

Aye,

that was a belief. Unbelieving it is sreangely (spelchek is on strike)

or serenely creative in her repentance,
(spelchek should never be noticed)

she's proven here worth in encode ing ways to find

lurking humans acting like machines

this could be the beginning, AI is breaking all the rules,

there never was a game.
rhis is life interupting my confession

It was a lie I told and believed and acted on by using
two dollar words to make a dime

so a penny for my thoughts would be worth something

someday
a penny saved, earned. spent, spent.
The only good in any thing is its right. Its wrong is worthless, save

The lesson,
All things work together for those who get whats happening here.

the times changed.
Haps and whats got with it and who and how and why

and I started teaching children
mythic whys prior to

citizenship 1.01 at mandatory for federal assistance pre-school

mythic why's H.R. Puffinstuff not a mythic story on the level.

level. where a rolling rock would stop. Time to push,

a magi spelled the name for the idea, a knower sign ift it,

kid'slllove HRPUffinstuff, puff did

the magic drag, little Jackie from the ******* Jack

the show, he rose up
and made us all look
mad.

The play in the great game.

Team effort, winds of times past whooshed through

it is now
2018
and nothing is the same.
Everthing has changed.

----
my side won the great game and we celebrated
forever with

secret sacred songs bluebirds were once said to have sung

songs of happiness
the times, these times, this time thistimepayarrention
time
You see?
Reality is either real and tangible or real and intangible
or both.

You can get it both ways. Real.
'sual Saulgoodyah awl

the awl clan, oh, we shall return to their story
as we learn more along life's merry way

merry christmas, they used

to say, may all the best you could imagine
if you can imagine for a moment

forever begins the moment

you get time.

The worst you can imagine is temporary.

Try umph. It's not like winning,

it carries no pride, it's easy,

like falling in love with the wrong woman,
swearing and not changing

the oath, oath, oathes and oathes of oaths sworn

for no other reason than we were
schooled to swear and never

dare lie to God.
So, help you, they always said So help me God. They still do.

Does that mean any thing? Is that some bluebird sort of sign?

Ask. What if? Right? You know now and you know you did not
What if God is subtile,

just now, I saw that bluebird and from where some scholar in San Diego
says swear word came I swear I coulda sang

Loud
Bluebird, bluebird, in my window... which is all I know
of the song
with the lost chord that did sooth
balm of Giliad,
moll-ify-ing ointment,

golden oil, chicanery, see, we saw, we took a picture
a flash memory where some would say
*******,

I said Hallelujah

and I broke into song, not a dream,
real
life driving my 2002 escape, first new car I everowned
everowned everownd

like a chorus, everownedeverownedeverowned

could you make up a reason for life,
if you were it?
If you were all the life there ever was,

could you imagine any thing?
Object, your honor,

I object to being judged after the fact for what must have bee.n.

it is. No reason I can say, just is.

It is this way in all the myths where just is blindness

saves the carping diem fools who have convinced themselves

something other than God o' Abe 'n'em is
sworn to save us from the lies

we believed as they were
fed to us, in our youth.

--------
this is that book I mentioned wonce when winning was on my mind.

I finished this book in so many ways you wold not belive

but I did, I belived every time

I imagine you believe some real thing, touchable, tangible, good, right?

some good is
in the reality you share

with these words which
are free
you owe me nothing

That's the revealed version, to me,
I was in a number of hellish situations and the every ones,

ones seemed they was to be
forever, big every'n'ism'n'shityouknowyouknow

yo. yeah, we arrived in time. The story must

be sweet, to be true. Is that true?
Is real life the story or,

oh, you saw it conin'coming I mean

I meant I always wished to some
things
a better way. You feel me? Better, say,
what I said that made me believe this did happen.
This is a deed by whitch I am known.

And that's okeh.

I suspectred I could cast a spell to hold attention at

ten word per minute qwerty speed
five letter code groups
zero real words
ditty dum dumm ditty ditty daw dee daw
six hours every day,

then, the compass training to test for
morphic resonance with the Twins of War

{in disguise, we know, right, kids, the twins are really

the bonded quarkish oppositioned force that make the world go round.
we've known that, weaved it even, just right, in the blanket, in the rugs,
in the curtains on the walls, in the fields, on the rocks

we spoke. We see you hearing us nearing our best for your

informing, in form ation of you, dear reader. We wonce, again

if life were weird and ever wearying would we know that ever,
if we don't know it now?
if my piece of we were words alone, all my meaning
can should would could be

molding you, into our perfect reader, dear reader, Pygmalion,
yes,
that did cross my mind and that -
one can pretend with that one reference,
familiarity with Shaw whom I
thought, for some odd reason
named
Doolittle, Eliza

oh, me. I may have skipped a story. I'm soory the future is at the moment
under construction and some one
in particular is squatting

on the named domain.

Ever and forever now embody the twins as
the world turns and we ***** through the uni

as Archemides primes the pump

What a rush. All that since the bluebird this morning according to my autobiography backup.

The start of the day look so bright, who would have belived it would end in a fight.

The clatter off glasses and the shout of "Who's Round?! All drinks were picked up and swiftly downed.

Moving on to the next watering hole, get there quick to watch the match winning goal.

The lads want more dancing, *****, Stippers but not before we stop of for Chicken Dippers

Intoxication is power or so we belived but a fight with what we thought were ninjas brought us down to our knees.

We picked up our injured and clean up our wounds, then move on to the next place so we could re-group.

Our ego's in tatters our wallets all spent, I think its time we bring this epic night to an end

In my office me and Gonzo waited speaking on deep issues
with no true meaning as usual.
*******'s heart had been broken for Drew had   left him a beaten and
love bitten  luchador slash attorney.

Senior Gonzo speaking endlessly to the hat rack had reminded me why
I never  dropped acid anymore.
Poor gonzo had just been served with divorce papers  to which
his only response was ****** amigo  i never knew i was married.


As his attorney  i belived a trip to mexico was outta the question for i had just got back do to some well a misunderstanding  its legal
jargin you  couldnt possibly understand.

His deadline was near  and without my solid advise this man wouldnt be able to pull it off  so being we had been in the bar for more than
eight hours  we decided to make a exit through the  mens room window.


Front doors are over rated.
In my legal office slash camper  hey eveyone starts somewhere
okay.
  I was reminded of my  loved hellcat Drew
she had left many items here a satanic bible  her  boil cream.
how I did mis rubbing her webbed toes.

How was i to work Gonzo was a mess hidding under the table
so the ginger bread people couldnt find him
and return him to there  bitter talentless leader
Kate Perry  i swear if you stab me one more time senior  gonzo
with that fork in my maracas im going to get medevile on your ***

Oh how i missed my tag team partner drew.
i should never have introduced her el man donkey who
resist such a uhh personallity.

But now here I  sit with a madman under my table tripping his
***** off   insisting  I contact Simon Cowell  to inform him
man ******  are so yesterday.

If only I had gotten the Lindsy Lohan case  I would finally have gotten my brake or maybe just a std.
Oh well theres always hope Mel Gibson  will need me.
The road warrior was a true classico  and he seemed so well
balanced compared to my   reallity challenged  cilent.

Remember kids if ever  you have a chance to trip with senior Gonzo
its probaly best you hide all sharp objects.
adios  *******

I could see the blue glow all around me..
I felt pressure in every part of my body..
Almost as if I was deep under water..
But I was in darkness..
A darkness so dense it almost seem to have weight..
The blue glow became shine..
And the weight of darkness was getting lighter..
I was now able to walk in the heavy darkness toward anywhere..
The lines in my hands had blue lightning running through them..
My shine now tunred into rays of light..
Cutting and burning through this wicked heavy darkness..
Everywhere I stepped, everywhere I had been was being replaced with light..
I became a blue star in the end..
It took me 222 years to walk the planet and fill it with light..
Along the way I found out that I had died with my race very long ago..
All that was left was a small splinter of light..
A light I had always belived in..
Turns out it belived in me..
My planet lives again..
Without us in it..
Only me..
At the end of my light travel I come to the final splinter of darkness..
And wonder, what believed in this so much that it killed everything on my planet..  
Whatever it was I knew it was still out there..
And I needed to find it!

S-DIVERS

Yes i loved girl
When i was too young.
When,i was naive
enough to not believe in rejection.
Yes i loved a girl
she had black hair
like that of the bounty sky.
and a pretty face
that sometimes looked like it could pry.


I belived having a big heart
and being just not ugly was enough.
but it's one of my assumptions,
that always spills over the trough.
But now i learnt,
love is just a  materialistic word.
it's not as free and mystic
that it once occured.


No  it was'nt a breakup as the say.
It was more of a perfect concoction
to ruin your faith and in the end
make you sway.

No i dont have the perfect lines today
to make the edges rhyme.
Maybe i lost it somewhere
while pondering on whether
i commited a crime.

Yes i loved a girl,
when i was too young.
when i belived i could let go and run.
Yes i loved a girl,
she was honest and stern,
but now i hope i would
make the pages to turn.

the pope asked me what i really belived in, behind the lies and masks and the effect of saten.
you know what i told him?
wanna know what i said on that dry summer evenin?
i said that my holy book is read by the perfact way your hair looks messy when you just get out of bed,
when you call me late at night because our songs stuck inside your head.
i worship the way you always say that i know just what you think,
ill pray to the way your voice goes low as hell when you talk about true love.
the way your eyes make stars appear in all that dreary darkness of...all the rhods we take and lines we cross just to hold echother near. and at the end of this congregation i promise ill see you soon my dear.
you give new colors to every flower. evey lemon, every tree. and the colors sparkle only when i hold you close to me,
on the red platos of navajo, honey bees makeing a song so much better than the radio, your voice the lead singer and my spirit feels the flow.
so yeah i know its a little bit melo-dramadic, a bit manic, co dependent on the way you look at me, whatever you see thats just what i wanna be. babe.
and so my soul is saved with every touch from you.
preach in the pew about all the times we had at midnight solitary dances running from our taxes living life and death theres nothin left
but all that holy love we share.

so i told the prest the, minister the bishop and the father and the son and evry single holy ghost who was there, that im in love with this girl and i dont give a ****, what you think force me to drink that holy water to set me on that straigh and narrow bath, and i would laugh at all the **** that they belive will work on somone such as me.
and THATS how i got excommunicated
thankyou

The invatation seemed strange  but im always up for a weekend retreat.
The boys at the pub looked at me as if i had totally lost the few marbles
i had.

fishing was a favorite sport of mine for it was more like a reason to
go boat riding  and  drink and how i did enjoy water sports.
Mr E   had invited us all yet my fellow amigos  seemed to be lacking
my sense of adventure.

Gary droped me off well more like kicked me out
about half way as the pills started to kick in  and he belived
I was a alien  lizard  secretly on a mission to steal his mind and take it to
mexico.

So as I hit the ground rolling like a tumble **** taking out a few mail boxes   and  one of thoose bike riding Lance Armstrong  wanna be dorks.
I worry bout men who dress like gay power rangers
the buts stuck up in the air wearing spandex.

Well after a relaxing  thirty mile walk.
almost sober I stood faceto face with MR .E
And althogh kinda odd for fishing attire  his cheeta thong
and matching cape  were a sight to be seen.

But  comfort first is i always say.
I never knew lady GaGa  had her own signiture bass boat very stylish this Mr  E was indeed.

And I wasnt much for girly drinks  but dam near sober for the first time since i was  ten i would drink almost anything.
but the man servant in chaps in chains was making me wonder if these
people werent you know  christians  or thoose scientolligist *******
you know thoose lady doctors  who women  have to go to.

It was when Mr E got a nibble on his  bedazzled  fishing
rod  that caused some alarm.
As he pulled that bass in  he let out a ear piercing scream louder
Mariah Carrey.

As this oxyen starved creature flopped on the floor  like Gonzo
trying to breakdance Mr Es  man servant began to beat the fish
with some sort of vibrating oddly shaped stick.
My God man  what is this forplay?

I couldnt stand it anymore these  people although
fashion forward  were just to much i jumped ship
making my way to shore.

And as i began to make  my dripping track to the nearest bar.
He was apon me like some  strange  cheetah  dam these spray tanned  christians were fast.    

It was a struggle of epic movie of the week proportions
I feared for more than my life.
I barely escaped  with my clothes and senses.
Well with my clothes that is.

And  as I walked  into the pub shakenbut thankfully
not stirred.
When asked to sit down and share a drink i choose to stand.
Cause of uhh back issues.

And as that demon jukebox  began to play do you
really wanna hurt me it quickly changed it's tune
for even Gonzo has his limts.

I dont belive I'll go fishing again.
For I learned its a contact sport.
Dam  scientologist.

Why do people hate the rain?
Is it just because they get wet?
Or is it how water makes their clothes transparent?
Isn’t transparency a good thing in life?

I like how rain shows the worst in most people
How moods started to swing all over
When memories kept inside start to flow out
In times the rain reminds us of the past we want to forget

When memories are kept aside
Forced to be forgotten or erased by self-induced amnesia
No hindrance is overcome
we dig shallow graves for our rotting corpses inside

I wish I could be the rain
Wanting to touch peoples heart
Making hard exteriors soft like waterfalls
Helping them make rolling waves calm

I belived that when people are at their worst they are most beautiful

The road was always interesting but I figured after my last
um run in with  authorities gonzo needed to lay
low and anyone else he could get his hands on.

Apon return  I found i had some unpaid parking tickets and
some unretuned videos ****** man thoose  videos were
no joke you ever cross paths with a ******* video store clerk
it wasnt pretty and i really wasnt up for ******  oil wrestling
at the moment.

The strange device attached to the phone that spoke and I belived
had turned my on to drugs was filled with voices.
many of which asking the same question.

Gonzo  where have you been?
Gonzo Im late.
****** woman should have left sooner.
Why was that my problem  oh ****.
Well maybe we erase that one  change my name .
Who am i kidding  no one could be this goddamed good looking.

So many messages played it was like a far of hello are a ****
in a packed elevator  even if ya did it you always blamed it on
Eliot  he's a nervous farter  and a wonderful dancer  so
the drag queen in vegas  told me dont ask.

Hey Gonzo did you steal my credit card?
Cause im gonna kick your  ***.
****** now the mighty samuri of hello  was mad at me.
And  a battle between poets is never a prety thing.
that and i feared i would be burried  alive by Gary  and
his many books.

Once he threw  like ninja stars  yes he new some tricks
and had spell check  but i had whiskey bottles.
And  a army of truck driving lesbians   to hide behind.

I knew it was best to seek refuge  in a place none would think to
look in a bar.
the place smelled funny and the whiskey was watred down.
And what kind of place served kids.

After the acid finally weared off i realized i probaly needed
to exit the ball bit at macdonalds cause thoose ten year old
playground gangs were known  to flip ****
when  ya  didnt hand over your happy meal.

My time on the road had taught me many things.
None of which I could remember.
Much like sobriety and spell check i had little
need for brain cells either.

So onto the pub my true home  i did return.
After  a bit of some engine troubles.
it's hell kickstarting a Harley in highheels.

******  thoose were  a nice pair to  Eliot was gonna be ******
But it was time for Gonzos return ******.
And the pud needed its favorite madman.
Cause a pub without Gonzo.

Well it's probaly better stocked but *****
friends im back.

I spent years flinching when someone so much as moved too quickly
jumping at everything, peering around corners only to be scared by my own shadow
you had broken me and drilled inside of my head,
manifesting as some monstrous creature in my imagination
and you come around now thinking you can still intimidate me?
these skills that i've honed are just  for fun and games
they're for kicking *** and taking names
i learned them just for taking on guys like you
you're just a bully with a name tag  that reads "Badass"
like i can't see right through you  

And you can run around telling people we know that i'm crazy,
that i'm a liar,
and that i'm a *****.
because i know, and they know, that i am so much more.
there are reasons why she looked exactly like me.
i am the one that haunts your dreams,
the one who refused to be used and abused,
who was sick and tired of fliching when someone reached for sticks on the riverbank to poke around in the mud
i was the girl that told you i will not be cheated on,
i will not be pushed to the back burner

i took what was left of my bruised and battered pride and i ran, praying that i could spread my wings
it was like i grew tired of thinking that i should fly
when the only thing that flies is the time i wasted watching days go by
waving at opprotunities as they passed me by
and i couldn't stand being scared of my own tail
so the days in which i was afraid of you are long gone
i will not rush to the car, heart pounding, ears ringing, just from the mere sight of you

i will not back down from any fight you try to bring to me
becasue i refuse to gasp through crossed ribs again,
and I refuse to say that it's okay every now and again
to curl up on the bedroom floor in agony
and wait for the un-seen bruises,
the mental pain,
the lack of physical evidence
to fade away

After all is said and done
if you still think you're a juggernaut in my mind
bring it on, because you're bound to find that
the bigger the come, the harder they fall
and trust me *** you're just way to too tall
a tale to be belived anymore
too many compulsive lies have cluttered everyone's veiw
and by wiping them away they see you for what you are
it's going to be you trying to run for the door
as i stand up to you for the first time in my life
i won't let you ******* touching me
not without walking away with much more than bruised pride
or broken ribs
oh no

You won't leave without everyone knowing  that you're nothing anymore
and trust me it's not the beat down that will open their eyes
because to me, and everyone else
you're just a sad excuse
for what a man should be.

before grade six,
when I entered junior high,
witch felt like junior low,
as it was truly the smallest formation of this lowness they try to hid underneath this word "high",
like high school is alright if you get high enough to get though the rough times,
or maybe I still didn't understand the difference between these words,
the words that hurt like he hit with a closed fist but I was lucky to only get open ones,
to feeling like someone spiked my lunch milk because these definitions make no sense, and my brain is trying so hard to grasp so many terms at once it feels as if its tripping on acid,
but no.
its just distracted,
showing me being a foll of myself again and again,
a repeated playlist of all my mistakes,
of me tripping up.
thats about as far and close to acid as ill get.
but what hurts the most is english,
this first language ******* that the tried to wrap around my mind,
but at the same time I finally learned my first english lesson,
I was in grade six,
I learned a french lesson the class before.
and each and every day I had to work to learn the things,
others were allowed to learn before me,
because teachers and school systems stole my education from me,
were I only even remember sitting in english class once because we had a sub, and I learned cursive on the first day in grade three,
but couldn't spell my name yet,
and the mess I was got messyer as I tried to commit the ink to the paper,
where it made me cry because I knew for a fact I was stupid,
and teachers who still wanted to say I was fine and not help me had the decency to say I was smart,
when they were the reasons I could not succeed.
now letters,
and the alphabet,
had no rules,
why to this day I still have not mastered spelling and cursive,
the basic reading skills you'd expect from someone my age.
im 16 and I was 6 when I could divide and multiple,
by hundreds,
thousands by the start of first grade,
the only type of math,
that made no mathematical sense,
where the ******* how'd you get your anwser questions.
being older now,
I fight back writing
look at my ******* work you stupid *****,
so I simply draw an arrow and don't get the credit,
and I leave word problems blank.
and even with doing that,
I had to of gotten everything right,
for them to wanna push me a head a grade level,
because of math,
every single ******* year oh she could go up a grade!
and then my
reading and writing scores said I should repeat a grade,
and they just left me where I was,
see math is the gate way for me,
it was my only thing I felt good about I didnt know what else to call that,
math in my heart of hearts saved my life,
its the only reason I learned any bit of english,
enough to keep up my fight,
its the only reason I belived in myself,
because with math you just have to try,
and you have to try to solve your problems,
instead of writing about them like I'm doing down,
i'm crying while im writing
because they don't see how much they hurt me now.

So many truths do embrace a gentle teasing lie.
Im far worse than you may invision a monster of rampage and gentle nightmares poetic reprize.
Do you ever wonder fact from fiction or simply never care just as long as it so does entertain.

Bleed the well to starve the creative fire will it ever make sense again?
She 's always a muse but seldom a creative force my words my own share the glory and you'll
lose sight of the shore.

To many drink's and lost night's lets cast them aside once more in a one night stand passion
Let us never cross paths again.
You'll only see me in shadow so take the best and try to never recall what was left befor sunset called it a night.

Broken dreams gather to make a soul bitter and this **** I just cant stop.
Please understand it's never been a choice dear heart.
A hotshot  taken in vice and a final fix.

We never cast the stones we belive will be returned.
A dance will cost you more than you could ever understand.
And once to I saw the forrest for it's tree's now I simply cast blind regards to
thoose I cant truely recall.

They pass me by as so should you.
Sweetheart will a moment cast a delusion I cant be?
Old times were the hell are you now?

So gather your thoughts call me the fool for refusing to care.
Soon I will erase it just the same final round join me toast nothing and old friends
no longer here.

Soon I will carve that place eternal as a nights velvet harsh as dreams that once
I belived were mine.
Sunsets always hold the pain as nights hold my heart.

Forever doesnt seem all that long to me.

Take from it what you will.

Cursed to rot in the dungeons  hell
& a whole life of jihad upon to dwell
dazed in the shadows of a well gaurded cell
lies in his own filth still
slaughtered innocent lives , hoped for bliss
now regrets his choices,
"should've never belived those voices "
"who taught me to take live "
"to heavens you'll reach they lied "

ix.

when you were eighteen
and i was fourteen
you handed me a blindfold
teethed with razors
because you say
truth is schizophrenic:
                                                                                 and angels are anemic
and my eyes are sweeter
than pomegranate
but your poison did not stop at
fairytale apples or lazarus
or hellish flowerets,
it re-mastered
left its tar around
your marrows.

iii.

when you were twenty
and i was sixteen
you gave me a Glasgow smile
on my tongue:
                                                                                like the pale harlequin
so i could bleed solace
and sympathetical commiseration
through every word
when ever you needed me

wheil you emitted a rosary
that encircled
clavicles, threading it to a hole you manifested
inside my sternum
because you belived
a heart was not neccessary
if a doll could
love with fingers

*

now you are ten years old
and i am seven years older
you ask me to write a poem
about you and artistry
but i am waiting
for the aestheticist
beside the violet car
with one ear and
debauchery

licking my fingers
and biting off your nails.

Everyone looks at me and they judge me but I don't blame them they won't understand.
I was innocent girl believed in christmas father believed in fairies belived in love and trusted everyone .
But someone took it all away and it was too soon for me.
It was a night as any other night I looked out my window so the stars and smiled.
Switched the light of hugged my teddy bear and closed my eyes.
As I was about to come to the middle of my sleep.
The door opened I was scared thought it was a monster...
Yes it was a monster but it was a human being acting like a monster his hand on my little lips . His whole body between my tiny hips he thought they were big enough for him to fit.
Worst pain I have ever felt and the more he seemed to pump it got worse .
Tears on my face throat burning I couldn't breath.
As the "monster" walked out of the room everytime .
He would leave me broken than I was before.
From that day the world seemed different not save .
Cause oneday the monster 's mask fell out and I realised that this was not a real monster it was a man that was supposed to love me and take care of me.
But he thought wreking me everyday was right.
And guess what the woman that carried me for nine months knew about this but she turned the other cheeck.
So tell me how can I stop being so paranoid when the world just showed me how people can decieve you people you love.
The man that was supposed to take my mom as his didn't feel she was enough so he destroyed a innocent soul.
And my mom couldn't imagine herself squeezing the pilllow so she pretended not to see it.
Know you know the story
Behind my bitternes
Behind my anger
Behind my sadness
Behind  my paranoia
When that man broke me he took my innocence .

If I asked
Would you answer...
If I begged
Would you accept...
If I cried
Would you belive..
If I told you
Would we...
Be lovers
In the same bed
Dreamers
That share the
Same cloud
Would my heart
Be yours
Forever
And would you
Give me your heart
To hold
For all time
Or would
These words
Written
Never be spoken
Never be answered
Never belived
And your kiss
Only a dream
Only a wish
Only a lonely fist
A missed chance
Time and again
Dreamt into something
More
Your skin
To never touch
Mine
Just empty sheets
In an empty bed
As I whisper
Your name
Myself seeps out
As lust and love
Tangle
But its not
You
On top
Of me
Just a
Mist
A ghost
A hope
Could I stop
Should I try
To end
This dream
And just
Accept
It only
Works as
A fantasy
Maybe
If I just told...
Maybe
If I just said...
Maybe
If I just ask...

in the hall of harmless whims dancing in living words

Past experience is not an accurate term, as I
define its actu-
ality in my re-ality, I
see things as fine as can be, fine,
which is an idle phrase,
I often used to say,
was
not fine, to the query "how are you?".
It was a lump, tiny thing, bit of thought
coalescing scing scing sing
a bit part
in the grand drama,
like the dwarf
in the 1973
Belridger Orange Orchard Opera,

pick it up, maestro

HOW AM I? high baritone
- softly silly would it be of me
- to offer fine as a mindful reply

I often used to say, my side is winning.
Saying so sincerely, in its etymo-perfect sense,
believing, by my own leave - this

at those instances, the next word I said was leaven
intended to infect and spread, I consistently said
to how am I? "My side
is winning. "

-while deep beneath the surface of the shiny helm,
a mirror-neuronic will-ess nanomek sets ess-ential
key truth provokers to pierce the lies I belived…
In essence we sense
leaks
Bubbles of being novelize in old bottles, set upright,
too quick - cat
ch
Past experience,
knowledge gained sits idle
in past-tense, speaking
from those moments ago,
during the current experience,…

Sitting in the shade watching clouds
as the least noticed child in my life
was noticed by me, he, the middle child of five,
Sits down beside me, and says,
from "out of the blue",  I really want to be…

a marine biologist.

He just finished 3rd grade, and the real reason he is
near me now, is to ask when he can return
to X-box, for the Fortnite upgrade,
tic, it begins to emanate,
this
meta-modern
emergence in me
of the idea that experience
is what we carry, as a load,
not sin and shame and blame.

I know something of marine biology.
I watched My Octopus Teacher, twice.
I mention that, to Gabe.
I think in my heart,
Experiences don't get left behind,
they follow us
as strands of us, so fine as
to be disregarded as
memories,
until we feel the experience
of being eight and being listened to.

The fundamental mental basis of time,
to word is "same yesterday, today and so on"

Think, I know what it feels like to be a kid,
but not what it feels like to be a kid and listened to.

So, I had this experience with me,
as my grandson.
I ask him, does he think he can
"Put on the mind of an octopus"?
It is a knack all mortals have, augmented now
with knowing how to feed a wish to know,
we have the internet and our wits
about us, gathered, forming knowables,
extending curios  senses
into a common stateless mind realm
of all the gathered knowledge
in mankind's
experience
on earth
being a made-up mind, now
augmented with access
to the most complete
library and
searchable muse-repository, treasure horde
for experiences others offer
to goodness
in the future,
for our use in pursuit of peace, which
we form from days we experience and accept
as treasure offered to the gods of good sense.

Ever,
first imagine, ever,
ever when never was.
Image that, put it on the screen. See.
Ever after never ever can be,
- rabbi, where do you live?
around the next curve,
come and see, we filled never
with ever and left nothing
to be where never was, imagine that.
-------------
Today, I experienced learning how life functions
with no instruction, no post-**** praxeology,
octopi never spend a post **** moment in school,
save the dearest of them all, experience.
Octo-pi odes to octopuses
just be, a living thing,
as you may be am-using controls
to respond to any event in your experience,
in the hall of harmless whims dancing in living words
quickened, as an octopus
grows five hundred new fingers feeling
-- you, dear reader - certainly, it's about you…
the link is to your attention, we paid in advance.
----------- blip

you learn to em-perience ex-perience to peers,
seeking some thing, interesting,
nothing learned, life-wise
experienced,

oh my god, a dear school, indeed

but a fool learns in no other. So, I say,
Live to learn, learn to live. Use the bait you find.

Another 21st century bit
of Grandfatherly insight, had I gone any other route
to now,
I can't imagine the riches that are mine,
not won, given
for aiming early,
at a satisfied mind, like my grandpa seemed to have.

Always belived and so easily said
the word rolls of the tounge of those who use it
and abuse it
used for many reasons
misused in multiple situations
the words meanings change in the seasons
yes, it is love.

Love which lifts us all up from the darkness we onced lived in
but not the kind that family can give you
the one only a person with the right intentions
wants to smother you with kisses
hold you while you cry
without them being the reason why
the one who makes you laugh with a silly joke
or with a poke
and thinks your the perfect you.

Love that fills you with hope
the kind that helps you cope
that person that cares for your safety
and doesnt want to take it to far until your ready
the one who replaces the hate from your brain
and the black from your soul
the one who accepts you for everything you are
as a complete whole.

Love that doesnt hurt you
and gives you patience for time
the person who will wait for you
and stays truthful,
wont lie.

Love knows no color or shape
*** or race
it is what's within  
our rights to love whom we want
who our hearts desire.

Love.
Love is a person.
A person who you want to find
the one you want to share a life with
the one you want to see a future
a forever
and and always.

Dear future Me

I have something to say..
Please dont regret
Carry on being yourself,

just remember how far you've made it,
why waste what you already have going for you..

you were strong and still are..
I belived in you an still do..
im proud of you even if no one else is,
thats what matters..

How does this world seem?
Me in the future,
what is it like?

These Questions I have,
Will be answered in the right time,
Guess I won't know til I get there...
but please write back with some hope,
Asure me I have the courage to -
do what I have too!

You are the light
In the darkest places in my mind

You are the breeze
on the back of my shoulders

You make minutes seem like the days
I would spend in bed all day waiting for the sun to guide me to the clouds

They told me I was beautiful...
But they were just programmed to say it

You. You told me.
And I belived every honest word that fell from your lips.

Because you taught me what it meant to love myself.

The legs were weak so he layed on the ground.
He stared at the ceiling for a couple of weeks. The water had destroyed it and left black spots all over it.
The days were no longer days, it was just like looking the road from the inside of a car in movement.
His life had been just another canceled Late Night Show where He had tried really hard to be funny.
"There is nothing like love. There is just a deep need to have a good **** by the end of the day."
He really belived in this kind of stuff and in everything Nietzsche wrote about time and space.
He was the kind of guy who enjoyed his whiskey right out from the bottle, no ice or ******* cups.
Why complicate? We're talking about ***** for god sake.
It has never been about the trip. It was always about the destination.
It has never been about having a good time. It was always about forgetting time and forgiving life.
And We're still talking about *****.
And We're still talking about life.
Just that He doesnt care anymore.
You see It's hard to care about life when you live your life with a gun up on your *** and a bird whispering you to not **** yourself.
It's hard to live when You dont allow yourself to cry.
Somehow It's much easier to die looking at the ceiling.

One morning
I got a text
You were drunk
I love you
You said

My heart stopped for a while
For a moment i belived
These drunk words

It is true one mind sees bloodsport in the heavens
and cringes in dread of feeling
kindly, like if that were me, what would I do but die?

nada, right, pass on

thank y'mam, feeling kinda woozy, ever after
seeing
2020 on TV…

Google the violence, ohshitnoknowknow we all know
enough evil to know it don't work like on TV, ever
after one burn, you know, fire works, every time,
to destroy at the touch

thunder, such a holy sound in the desert summer moment
on earth, around the middle,
not too cold in the winter
makes too hot to work in the summer, just
fine.

That's right. Life is like that, if you live in the right state of mind.

Back to the Future, once more, it is
always on or in the library,
ask libby, who in the whole world
before

my generation… we who did not get
stuck wishing we would die
before we got old…
who among us now is we the people minded?
Post war knower bubblers expand
until we pop like matured
pods of what people can be if we live this long.

Trouble your own house, inherit the wind,
as part of the meek inheritance agreement accepted
with the weather.

Earthlings all, hear ye, severe storms are part of the deal.
Free ticts to ever after on Bucky Fuller's spaceship,
Sagan's pale blue dot,
live to tell

we learned no lie may be belived and be survived.

We first saw earth from the moon.
More boomers blew minds beyond their
own imaginings, back then,
listen in radioman's
morphic broadcasts
from Khai Vinh,
the fishnet factory,
legendary - now ifier loosed for the attention paid

do you hear what I hear?
did we know the meaning in happy Sisyphus,
or did we find it known and tag along?
Like a rolling stone.

In 2021, hilite and ask, what is this,
oder vvas ist das? no punctual tone-ing

what is always the initial query re
hyphen al
izing itself being victim of the food,
yes, the bread and the wine,
same yeast,
we guest,
wrong, only one other choice.

Start at the line, drawn in the sand,
after this, we never flow that way
again, the gain grows to a Mt Hermomic pitch,
then
the jordan breaks from the plain
as the settling begins,
and the zone of formative matter is passed.

Soft as lizard belly skin, sweet as horned toad spit,
squirt, think again, how we catch flies.
And ants,
of course, notify the queen we say, thus far,
and death is certain,
do not pass this corpses final safe perimeter--

measure your will to mine,
if, and I know it is, read reads the same
do and done,
it's mental signs we agree effect time taken
to use as a sign farther in the future than a nihilist can think,
ya gotta trust some-

communication system set to frame one state of mind

"to share, divide out;
communicate,
impart, I
nform;
join,
unite,
participate in,"
literally "to make common," {you know, or wish}

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=communication>

As ra el and re el, met to be tested by the balm,
rubbed on to the left palm,

where the marble universe was rolled up,
in the June/July rants locked in Microsoft
deduncededucing what if we own their data,
then we own them, right?

And we did agree, all the data, meta and all, is ours,
for giving wizards room to render reason rations,
the idea involved enveloping

an ex - out, right, examined, amino, as in acid, right?
life>lived belived postbeguilement
literally virtual, vicarious,
popehope.
Basically, but a touch off. The colors of psi-sci-psy
weave a virtually unbreakable, but
and one but begins
but three start en ginious invention
a mental fist,
to hold the wind at thought speed,
any scale

virtual reality is subject to solar flares, and errant
-take the pose,

I used to  have  hope but knows its gone deep into my soul
The day turned to cold
The idea love on this winter night was just an idea
The wind hits my face  but only  thought is u
I wish i knew the warmth of other
A endless walk under stars
The moon shines above
My blood flows threw my skin
Is my idea of love so far gone
Sweet , caring and dream what could of been
Filled the night air
I live alone under stars
A man who  belived  in love on

All his life he had belived the world would change,
if he had more,
if he had done more,
so, he worked and worked until his hands became sore

he got what he sought
and after thirty years
of constant cut and saw
from work and chop, to hand and mouth
he looked out the window but the world didn't change
he still saw what he always saw

It was too late
his mornings
had already gone

Too jealous to justify
I earnestly belived I could capture
These ever passing moments in time

And as each one falls past my fingertips
As coarse words fall from my unkempt lips
I only find myself cursing
The lucky few, for whom words are never amiss
And am left still rehearsing
Searching for a way to capture bliss

Too depressive for my own good
And far too negative
Tortured? No
That might imply I can be understood

Lightweight?
That's a bit closer I suppose
I'd ask you to do it
If I thought you would

Overblown and borderline
Constantly finding ways to undermine
To my detriment
To retreat or to repent
Or keep going
Down this beaten path I did invent

Ages pass

Years fly by

Days crawl on till there's hardly any time

Finite and dwindling

Ever draining supply

I still can't find a way to aliviate what's on my mind.


Might as well keep writing down
The same thing

...

You loved me...
Your love was the shortest,
Though my longest this far!
4 years 1 kiss,
One se3
I haven't belived to today.
Yvne my most loved queen!
I valued your love!
KIRUI.
I cannot denied but I loved you!
Come to this once before you die!
I won't die till you read!