When I was like as not lost, in history.
as haps so oft, it is a crying shame,
so few find the line, the point
to being, stretched so fine,
found at the point
for the time, what you were for the time,
too dear to surrender,
your aim in life, the shot not taken, left
leaven in mind, a chance to learn
and live to make the peace where none was.
Every year, spring reminds the system
bloom. Be as simple as pi, in wheels, in gears.

For a while, like a seed, falls to the ground
and ceases being seed, but for the final spear
enfolded light-catching green eyes, energized
as any serious listener to
American AM Christian Talk Radio, any where.
Listen, this is the day the LORD hath made,
and we shall rejoice and beglad in it,

by the way,
word of the day is colligated
with your religated wish for wisdom,
supported by your Phrygian dimes, since I can't say when.
Liberty is a state in mind of mind, no matter what,

stand up under knowing and walk from under that banner,
agape,
Or something other,
was it or was it just being whole as a bit of the story.
an ambit in the gestalt,
a qubit of the we, awesome us,
we, the deniers of liars prospering being doctrine,
the trade, we all live in lies, laughing at us lying,
why
you think you don't lie?

Being as this is the acceptable year, past due, notice
is given, I came to finish the law, not rewrite it.
Do not make life harder than it is,
really, remember being fifteen, it was scary when adults
all went stark raving mad
at once, mid sixties, according to tree ring analysis.

There is but the proud hagiography of saints,
those whose suffering proves
Jesus lied, his prayers for forgiveness,
must have failed,
or not,
we who knew nothing, know nothing still, until, now
so we are likely covered under they were ignorant doers.
But believe me, the joker knew the way, and led the thief, no lie.
All old people were liars then,
one day, like when your voice changed, or your first blush.
Our
Knowers rose to ask whole congregations,
when you next pray, ask the truth to show you
any lies you have held true, since you knew
- we saw the writing on the wall, for you,

for sure, I believed I knew things were known,
as I learned to feel the drill, the flow of war as art,
- what form does spirit fill?
- breathe and leave the lie to tell itself, until you die,
- or **** it on sight

seducing spirits, come sit with me,
leave us contemplate the considerate act,

let us run the river, bare foot, knowing,
there is always a place to put this foot, smart toes fit to this flow.

Sycamore Canyon, Arizona, 1970, about this time of year.

This side of the moon, we see
this side light and hot
then this side dark and cold,

allways half a time dark cold
allways half a time light and hot,

held to the reining tides,
slipping annually, assuring ever changes,
the moon, herself, mistress of all currencies
exchanging loads from one time chthonic sands,

now, the tops of high plains,
once the bottom of the whole world sea,
prior to the last time we saw greenland green.

The hope of 1957, and 1960-66, just
was not enough true to be tested in a war,
Thích Quang Duc, June, 1963, died to prove wrong.
Earlier, ten moons, or so, ten neap right alignings
Time stopped so we could all re-see, we saw
…
Dying Peter Fechter is carried away
by East German border guards who shot him down
when he tried
to flee
to the West in this August 17, 1962, photo.
Fechter was lying
in no-man’s-land
-- for 50 minutes
before he was taken
to a hospital, where he died shortly after his arrival.

From <https://rarehistoricalphotos.com/rise-berlin-wall-1961-1989/>

Suddenly I am weeping, and now, once more, is 2022.
Putin and such as think him wise,
still bring me to tears,

I still see the pond, the sea becomes, as life reboots.

No fish in clear water, I heard a liar say.
A cretan slow belly carp laughs and shines off.

Some day, one day, another, not this one, but
some one day in the ever after this one.
- Once
One day, I saw her, she was on the bus,
there was never a question,
Are you on the bus, or not?

And here we are today, forty years from then,
colligated at the heart strings,

since ever I saw, I knew, I know, not how but then,
a taste of what is to come,
now, as it were,
she looked at me and said, I trust you,
or, that is what I took it to mean,

ever being so sudden, at times.

Or weight, leanings, trends and biasing facts,
the grid tightens. Pressure applied to the plane we exist in.
Abrupt sifting,
such as separates accreted storied threads,
think of it as seething silk
soaking away the sticky boon,
analagous to flaxen boon, in role,

then we comb, and then we load the spindle.
---
To me it seems, as I have already said,
that a legitimate hypothesis must
'colligate the facts,'
that it must do so more successfully than any counter hypothesis,
and that it must,
for every link in its chain,
have evidence which will stand the tests of criticism.

Andrew Lang. Magic and Religion (Kindle Locations 210-212).
-----

co-gnosis goes with co-ligaton, tying what stretches to now,
and dries, legitimate, readable as knowing,
as in the song.
The snot is caked against my pants,
- Love, Forever Changes
that story never ended, though we told it all so well,
it never really happened,
the way it seems on the playbacks, the time we passed through,
paying focus to a certain point

a re-as-sure-as-any happen stance, a rain dance, bring it on.

We all join in, joy the price, praise and appraisal-

aim and choose, no win or lose, near miss is like us all,
pop one balloon in your whole truth life,
your good, liker than many, yours alone, then ours, but
pop 'em all, like as not, nobody saw.

Likest cognosis we can colligate, we all fall down and die,
once in the entire long while,
we read the writing on the wall, we think who built the balances.

School of the Prophets, first, we seers
were, then we saw a way we might trade
secrets for some metal to use,
in tuning our minds to next times,

to mention 3 and 4 dimensions, we claim we ken
the distance, point to point,
and in,
and out, being tween, touching was and will/shall
seeing being seen, as if there is no curtain,

it was pulled open with the ropes, fine hemp ropes,
in those days, lime was burned

Lime lit, Tiamat appears, as we walk along the wall
that is neither here nor there,
our lamps lift the shadows,
shining on the idea, locked in legends of words
worth dying to speak,
if
only once, big as you may imagine, may is your word.
You must use it well, may being
soon, you'll see. Sleep and dream of nothing,
that's good.
Not bad.

Home work, write out the answers, when you ask.

Imagine. Ping. How, now, if we knew nothing, do we
imagine. I trow not, how ever we know we may,
one line per time, creating urgency, agency, grand prix
winner takes all,
code of life, at the point of reproducing the affection,

Love Potion, Numb, numb number mumble spracht,

Mani, the mystical liar, I know from him to now,
I read how the great religions began,
like reader's digest, just, as it were, a taste for the telling
allusions spotted in the drama call explicit, ply peeling pearl
essence of ever in wonder,
thought a lot, it is a curtain readers walk through as
pearls of great price in any culture,
thinking these are
words, online, in time, nothing hidden, ever was
as we have imagined,
in these samsara plots, common since Bill Murray,
Palm Springs, Russian Doll, on and on, this myth, walk on,
each day, an opportunity to make up a meaning for something.
Make a god, and make it disappear.

The thing with money is, there is none, money is not real;
and, and, and
we all thought that once, through the wall that isn't there.

Upright, bipedal, con-fi, see, come saw
I saw thee under the mulberry tree,
when the wind stirred
the upper branchings
one who strives with truth in life's wild way,
rests - while watching, waiting for next
if I may, the past-tenseness of guiled, is guilt.
Hold no shame, having to do, and suffering so
painless, once used, patience always workd.
No guile, we waited for the point to go. Dotdotdot
-speak of that daemon and who should appear,
the daysman on duty, Mercutio's nearkin,
- was he one told to come and see?
a stranger in whom is no trick,
a confident man, selling his wares, for worth
to the buyer made ware by chance, lost in thought.

Something seems off when a person
knows with whom he agrees,
but I do not, ah, poorer in knowledge accrual, am I

So I, learn if I am as well agreeable,
does this trek into familiar detail seem allusive,
or useful, universal,
state of un-been-guiled, once too many times.
Bogus Science, and Ponzi Economics,
we climbed the dung hill, and found it comfy, warm.
- some sense from bovine ilk, Rumi-nated
- clover over rye, a pre-ference, cud-wise.
- The after taste, time to think,
- why do we use so many nursing cattle?
- What have we become, now that we can
- drink dead milk.
-back to the quest for a we for today-

Frankfurt determines that ******* is speech intended to persuade without regard for truth. The liar cares about the truth and attempts to hide it; the bullshitter doesn't care if what they say is true or false, but cares only whether the listener is persuaded.[1]

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Bullshit>

Where I was reared, nobody tells you
of a tattoo
on their back,
beneath covering clothes.
- but now, the layer of cool, coming on
- after all psy-sci-psi sense converged
Some folks do, for some unspoken reason,
- see, I wish you could see raw me, the art.
- forcing me to keep this skin.
- Possesion first, first right to claim, I know.
- BTDT- an imp experiencing samsara for me.
now, where were we, like like likest…
A person is presenting purpose,
proposing we have lost our links
to recovered tattoos - meaning hidden
not on your face, intending to make you see
Salience, a leaping roe, perhaps, saying see me,
perhaps saying I can leap the hedge row,
or it seems
so so salient, as if coming to attention,
tuned to the whole, boom
- lackachuma-fuma
salience the word is said again, by the fellow
with the deeply meaningful ta-toos
- a silly syllable enabling- bling
to which my attention attracts, salience
catches my at- tension, hooks me,
pulls me in, gnosis whispers know me,
deceive your grip,
accept my hand co-mand-astory manual labor,
I snap my fingers, we
receive my salient happenstance

fool me once, sell me an invisible tattoo,

a tool used to mean something,
meaning- full fashion affectations,
- as when a law is fulfilled -
put it there, where ladies show their spots.

Imagine we know it means something
distracting to the winds in- twisting my senses
sh, shush
shushing soothing, as might a 4-H kid,
nurse a stolen calf, and learn the price of knowing.

-------------
I can stop myself, I am under no pressure
to conform,
to be sure, I seem naturally alone,
I think more clearly with the magic pen,

it is all magic is, easy to use, once the knack.
Letter use. That's the knack,

take these blocks, did you never use blocks,
the very best way, blocks and songs,
and friends,
maybe,
not to help you build, but to see you build.
Sound held in letters,
let loose from the mouth saying sing it now
sing it
with me, next time.

No time, no functional conjunction with the main
thread, we maybe stuck in a dendritic split end.

I should stop and regroup, I will signal dead-end
at the next turn.

--- Switching tracks, find the hand that works,
use it, as if it knows where each letter lives, and pulls
it full formed in type.
And should any older love for kerning and leading,
linger as if ought had gone from the life in the letters,

when every thing became Times or Helvetica,
for all the difference it made, in the words themselves.

Meaning set, surroundings, ganz environs, toto re
ality as all in real already,

read it again, the signs in gut, relegate, read anew,
the old ties to knowers and showers of knowns,

fire is easy to display, Zarathustra held it in his palm,
any school boy can do it, on a dare,
and the one who knows the trick, need not say.

I know, I know.
Acknowledge truth, in all thy ways,
and watch your steps be guided, as each step
moves you past now, and then, to next step

perennial holy days, set aside for recollections,
who did we tell our children is actually in charge,
?
and our culture sold all its offspring to be shaped
into citizens useful, as required,
teach them to learn,
then let them learn to make a life, or live the one given.