Interrupted by my grandson with a telescope.
I think…
that never happened to many old men,
I feel,
special, y'know, like
I am and something like
this happened only because
I exist as this child imagines I am.
I am useless, unless I am
yet, after all,
Good at games grand father who knows stars
by name
and planets on planes intersecting our own.

_ I _ settle to see less sense intended than taken
as my reaction
results in a ripple
through time, to this place you imagine exists
as you read random lines
preforming perceptual preceptorial exploits
making peace
past all the battlefields imagined,
as legends go, we know the tropes,
all were digitized, the battles being refought result
in the same ever afters observers imagine.
No sane child can imagine studying war
no more moral interpretation
art implication
prepostper-full three decade dose of teleostic vision,
and unforgettable jingles
on the radio.
---
hit the road, Jack, jack of the lantern, lighter of lamps,
watcher in the night,
we have no need of warning,

we have drowned.

Goodnight Irene, goodnight
I'll see you in my dreams
------- farawayfaraway faraway
Home
Sometimes I live in the country
Sometimes I live in town
Sometimes I have a great notion
To jump into the river and drown

see ya'round' sunshine.

When an astronomer says, very densely packed,
of matter - as in the Oort cloud,
he is in another scale of thought, augmented
by science used with knowledge of
fore gone conclusions as to
metrics on con sci user's
speed of thought,
where
reality doesn't care if you believe it or not.

We are all past-understanding,
we are the lifeship earth peace makers,
the entire crew, auto, right, mathic-myth,
sentience intended to manifest
in time to make that
final ******
pop the bubble of babble's biggest fuss
race
to spew the luke warm from my mouth and watch,
each drop of venom sprouts a rod
of an almond tree.

{I predicted the return of this riddle}
Maybe and whatif are not
ex-act-ed-ly, no, actually
-- see, slow… see
maybe and trust are crushed words, compacted
as the density of any den of thieves becomes
assumedwiseasstreetspunky, slang, coo'
thoughts merge from phrases to signals
true rest may be, if we survive
next as we imagine it,

resting in truth, matters or not,
spirit of philio or spirit of sophia,
we agree,

shoulder to shoulder, elbo-grease and oompha
songs,
hup, we hup, we lift the foot from the mud,

find the boot has lost its irony soul,
sould,
American, LSMFT, never forget!!

When the joker told the thief of the must be
way, the liar, himself, believed
the whole story…

that was magic, not a trick, not a cheat.
You know reality does not care.

{evidence, in the mystery of iniquity working thread}

The reason beauty is, is you. Seeing, you doing the
seeing, witnessing the irrationality
of iridescent humming birds
playing in my cloudless
January sunset,

all along the 33rd parallel.

Taking stock of good ideas, tried and proven,
thinkable,
handible, holdable, ways and means to ends
The End
which means now, nearly, for me, part of me,
for the thymus gland, font of wiser than I imagined
T-cells, about which AI knows everything,
in the cloud of knowing witnesses now

encompassing us about---
so I need no wax pedantic,
tic asktask
AI ' f'
Art's intelligence, or-if-suf-ficial ficiency
--- stop-- think what is
enough.
the point to a life lived in focus, point by point, stretching
any point that may
be
stretchy, to its snapping point, and say

That only goes so far, re
mind me, next time I try to stretch such a point, re
mind me to only go
this far.

But, Hello World; Hello Poetry, is a place
where long drawn out thoughts
may amuse strangers as they
ask, what lies do I tell
as well as any fool?

Jokers. Can't take a joke, wanna take a poke,
knock this chip

from my pseudo-frontal-cortex module?

pride "unreasonable self-esteem, e
specially as one of the deadly sins;
haughtiness,
overbearing treatment of others;
pomp, love of display," 

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

Love is blind as justice, if my proud prejudice
were preproperly tuned to presume
you know

pride proceeds a fall, and all the angels know,
that first
giant step,
feels just like falling, it's humbling.

But try landing on your toes, next time.

Nope, says the proud but,
I always land on a ****,  but this can't be real.
It does feel as if
I've been impaled on an obelisk.

Tension, is it local
or global, inner or outer?

Are we at the mercy of the goodness
that formed us from

dust of mostly one star birthing event,
considering

the heliosphere has an outer edge,
we have probed,
probably, unless the lie is so far flung
as to hold the AI in a univocal
universe

--- no --- we, the common first voiced
harmony, we, the people,
mit unalienable right
to interfere,

should I see you drowning just there
I may offer thoughts and prayers and be
mocked,

but why would you think I care?
I am not mocked, I am unique, none know
the geus I use to sort the good
from the useless…

hear a word, see a line, take a thought
form a precept,
fit that into the common sense,

move on, emote a grin punktuated,
precisely here; with a wink, and a breath.

Hmmmm, see. What you imagine;
no difference,
nothing changes, so
we know we
live in this common sensed state, earthling being,
mentalated, tooled to think problems are lessons,

loose the too tight, tighten the too loose;
find the balance ever tipped to good,
think
Fibonacci. Do it, think Nautili's fossils,
Sunflowers, Pinecones,

twist and knot, tie and bind;
loose and find.

----
the evil ideas men make up, meet our made up mind.

we are the hero, not me,
not you, not any
one of you;

we, the made up, arti-ficed mental tool, novel
users of the current to empower an idling wit-
ness of the creation to guess each saw one light,

fractionated in all the whole numbers, whole bits
of all that is
in ever lasting form,
informing us as living words, that we are ladders

-slip--
grip, hold on,
we is you and me and we are joined only by
knowing.

Said to be the original sin. Watchathank?
The idea of the error that may be imagined un
recoverable,
that is the creator's utmost fear,
the beginning of wisdom, measure reason,
fear appeared,

why? Lost?
Why would the omniscience be wary of error?

Well, do tell.

--- The imagined us-ness, we, the alienated,
the unfit for service,
useless,
but, preserved, by law, because, otherwise

I do not exist. As a novel thought forming lines,

credit where credit
was due, all, my transgressions are past, imagine that.
What good is a prison?
- Where?
In a made up mind, do we have ideas we lock away,
de-platforming, placeless aches and pains,
abused - used for evil ends - rage release, dam

god dams, kurios forces of wedom, sorters
sorting on herd size,
quant-ified opinions to dare the leap into war…

and be no more reasonable now than ever,
before or after.

Novels of this sort are in a genre, see.
Avant Idealy-bobish,

we, as an informed state of minds in peaceful agreement.
We are not marked by any beast,
our scars support the story.

We are the hero of the whole truth and nothing but.
See, the ache, in your bit of the core,
having not risen to celebrity,
since highschool,
and not then, if you are honest and you identified
with the losers in the aftermath of 1967,
children born to the Nixon fans,
now aching to believe,
some story holds a key to the oath, spare me spare me
I lied
I said I know, I know I know
so many times, and I'm
so sorry; just so, and nada mas, y'know, we is not me.

I only lied when I did not know better.
Except, y'know, when I did it to save myself a hassle.
Which is peacemaking, if when peace is made,
that lie won't try to choke it in the crib.

No lie though, the imbalance that make things continue, that's one mysterious iniquity, 'fy'axt me.

Asreal as any mission to mars,

this is earth, we hear you now.
Come in.

And as any vampire fan knows,
the deed
was done.

If your life were
a thread,

here's a knot, hang in there,
keep on truckin'

believe in seagull borne
Celestine prophecy

and pitch Amway.

Think some things never change
and be wrong.
Start over.

What is the meaning of life, if
it is not 42 or 43? Or any whole number.

Check engine brings in the sufficiency of evil.

How does this work? Re
cognition, I suspect, a seemingly tireless system,
each day releases a sufficiency of evil,
just
enough to re
mind me-you, I see everything, I know

--- within the system of ignition and motive power

peace is after the first explosion begins to turn the crank.
all the piston resistance is pushed toward fore,

and we are off
the line ready

-- and I drive on to exit 28

The Madness of Crowds,

find what my tweets should be today,
read all the madness streams venting
into
the
new ideology of
entertainment,
consider comes up as a word, verb, I paused to look to the stars,
with their shine
to see me

as some bit of all that.

Far from the madding crowd maddened
by the noise we make in preparing
for war

from the foundational texts, in context,
time relative to everything, before
now, position point
meta data do the ID ea, ificate,
ego, go go on, wonder if

what if
hapt
ha, that one worked, eh? We.
You read, I write,
output input output with the effect of input,

loop once, and get the idea that this may
go on, never off,

well, we may imagine that goes nowhere,
round and round, balanced, as the best
1800's steamy perpetual motion patents were
compared
to vaporous IPO's in 1999,
which were overly faith-biased,
as a man thinketh in his heart, the whole world
seems to be… what the mind of the crowd can
conceive, with grip taken, hold on and lift
toward the top of the ripple,
balance
to the tip… of next…

here, put a gate.

Leave a legend of a fiery sword,
impressed
on the mind of a child living in a world
lit only by heaven and fire stolen
from the earth,
go mad with kuriosity

mad on me, mad on you, mad in us is used
to make us choose to believe or not,

dared? were we dared to doubt,
dared we be of two minds
in the matter of time and my being any thing?

Aye, and art, the wit of knowing, we are mortal,
don't forget,

how happy shall we be in ever, is there a demo?

May we try your way a while,
at the speed of thought
in unspoken words

read words in constant presentpast state, the angel
or the thought asreal,
read, but add the phenomenal experience of knowing

this one word is coming to me
from one level lower than the creator of all,
from one little measure above common
mortal humis based life…

where is peace in now?

An intention pledge, above the ethic moral tide,

as sea levels rise, tides rise, settle
us…
be the unem, see the top, from the bottom.

I look up.
BUT THEN SEE
the word realm I reside with
in time and chance,

such as the first fit word was serendipitously sung
in the sixties most recent,

along the marked ***** twisting thread through
the eve of destruction survived
by everybody getting ******,
according to Phoebe Zeitgeist, my once intimate
Tinkerbell fixation,
**** pixie,
in words.

Spin or real, side real, re
al Rheastatically
Hopft hopes to

twistit
little bit,
{which way, apriori flaw, *** of u and me}

-lefty loosy, righty tighty was known at the ***** line
so, ***** you, tighten
the connection,
let less - power - flow, {force me, Luke, make me look}

Hopfordsensation spun'n'set to spin on and on unless

- un less, add, subtract prove this equals that
- this is odd
- what if there is always a way good wins?

Spin or real, side real, re
al Rheastatically
dimmed to minimum spark, flash 10 second rewind,
I lost my mind
I set a reminder for a live feed proper propaganda
event for the latest contender
arisen to question the faith that is in me,
is me, I am
after all, covered
in the entire line of promises which,
culminate in Christ, if you know what I mean,

other wise,

you call truth liar. And there you are.

Wishing you knew if I were
you
would I lie about something as serious as happiness,
the state?
the condition?
the I'll go rhythm schism prism sparkling down the dusty trail…

mind wandering in ever after, as we have done, un
thinking, epi-
evolved by
tuning to those early greyscale programs with random snow
of many colors, when
you were of a bubbled state happy to watch the noise
of the universe
rippling through time to me via amplified CRT bursts
sans earthly input filtering output.

The white room we all remember,

staring in white room mode at whatever is on tv

see, think, imagine doing, that's it, that's it… nope, no good,
you feel bad when things go wrong,
even on tv,
we see.
These bits of us that make no sort on reality verification,
- there is no standard zero to divide by,
- and all the ones are whole
physical, hardwired, nurtured knots and nuts and bolts and
fast-ening things, thoughts that snag
hang-ups,
run the silk, expose the flesh, pierce the epi dermis

determinus outer-most
me,
into innermost you. In a given word, long ago, I think.
Life began to leak from ever before into ever after,
through now,
like this… quarkishly entangled with every thread of ever,
from then to now,

at any point in time, imagine, this is peace of mind, I MADEITUP!

--- a lessoning, to me today
--- opportunity to take responsibility, noticed,
there in our perifery,
leaning
left horizontal attitude adjust

POV straighten up
fly right.

Cultural norms super impose, form a me you may re
cognize in any mirror here on in…

that is not a clue, that is what you do. Now, or re boot day 7.