Too much for hello poetry, but,
you know, they said that about
telegraphy when it was dots and dashes,
as far as
mindshare traded for money,
we, as essentially merest of things,
we, mere words, made of logos,
logic demands we feel
well balanced before
we for get we knew
once, this whole
truth, certainly enough,
that we'd dare to swear,
to tell as much as we have
being behaviours preset to reset…
this ties to the morphic resonant
evidence of radio spectrum light
sensitivity that may corelate with peanut
allergies, gees, that serious as Enheduanna
wanting credit for instituting memorium rocks
- instant reco-knowing
see, that rock, from here,
me with these keys that stutter, amusingly,
we all made fun of Alfalfa, then he became,
Bill Gates, or
Elon Musk, then Babe Ruth and Orson Welles
morph into Donald Trump,
so we call the peacemakers,
the way fires call beetles to LA,
we all be kinda dazed California Dreamin'
neighbor lady baked me brownies,
I drove her kid to school.
Then got the call to think a difference
a corpus colostrum substance, hold back
inhibit random willful interpretations, holy
situations, serious gnoshit glossalial evincing
convincing evidence of interference,
signal sent cannot be left true,
confidential fidelity calls it
true faith, and we can't
believe that, no choice.
Eh, archeons,
all the therapists
involved
in solving this puzzle
of us needing
to feel involved, touching something realizable,
other than this one life,
in this one mind, ready
reading we write our own stories, readers ready,
granted wishes, wishing we had mutual mind sieves,
to sort first intention
from popular mention contention,
as we may have stretched our point, as we recombine,
mine and thine, as reasons resonating vibes changing,
even
at the end
of the chip based assisting intelligence,
- as soon as one child could
- they all could, time and again
at least five years
after Tinker Toys could model
at least one archetype self bit
of DNA,
in true faith
that this could be that bending
in realification, when all is
in as if it could be so mode.
And we form the double mind
at the basest point,
whence we spin
a storied yarn
on a rainy day, long after
we had electricity, we still loved
to tell this one
old old story, that can take us back
to Adam,
on Cain's line,
through a half dozen
of his sisters's lines.
What are Mormons for, if not good Archeology?
Ancestry.com can share enough evidence
to belie the size
of battles, but not deny
there were trying spirits, bending rules
tools adapted
to a use, an easy way, done once,
with a twist, snap, think a finger noise, oh, yeah,
that's the spot.
Ought we stop, we may, we have all day, it's snowing.
But maybe HelloPoetry.communicate, any way.
A little bit of possible is all we gotta pay.
Just an incidence during my recent novelization...