transfer attention,
spend time
in contemplation

temple time,
sit silent, hearing humms,
sh,
some birds, far away, about a
fair infield fly away.

How far is that, would you say,
a hundred feet,
thirty paces,
perhaps… there's the catch.

Precisely right place
right time.

Think how rare that seems,
then look around
and see it isn't.

Gnatcatchers and bats catch
things with more measures
of possibility assessed accurately,

instant prayer and answer.
Gulped in thanks.

This is me, on a slow-fast-slow-fast-slow paced
day in the life,
day.

I have these,
one after another, so far.

So, good, I think, fine, day
doing daily deeds,
day by day, done
one day.

Not days, not days and days
and nights, after each,
or before, but
day one, this
one, done
with vigor and gusto,
from high zazen
slightly grinning,
something more than smiling.

History with me involved goes back to ever when.
At that precise instant,
I was potential me, should I live so long.

Life with instant printing presses available
to any with a will to write a thought thing, sentence.
- poetic fizziness
At the heart of the enlightenment is a deep interest
in evil, used knowledge, living words filled with storied
poison gourds and freed goats and slain goats,

which carries the disconnecting force, hey, hamar-atia
ai ai, ai ai
we are so lost in the bubble of all we can ever learn,
we never learn to wait
so
so long, fifty year plans, Jubillee, some social cohesion,
trackable, due to right use dust con vincing science
to act out.
- bang, bang Lulu, bang away all day
Go bold as Rue, Saul, dance with the students,
down where the prophets
do that sort of thing, in the days of young David.

Who celebrates nakedness better than the angel
who posed in the marble for Michelangelo.

Art pun. Archangel, warrior spirit, never encarne' eh.

As the messenger is, so is the message,
in the spirit,
pre word, or, perhaps, mere word, the meaning
phonemes hold in certain family branches
along ancient clade marks on the walls.

Who and what are we?
Who thinks we think one thought, at moments,
when each line appears as written,
listening in context, who began the phase shift, gen-
erational era, last gasp,

a poet, used the suspire, process, last gasp.

And, then, not really,
we were imagining hell, then we woke here, and
took life.
Serious reasoning, I chose the winning side, I made up
my own ****** mind and went through living hell
to prove, one way or the other,
was I tricked, or did we seal the deal, with a kiss, each time.

How long does the new olive take to give full measure?
Fifty years, in Sicily, I heard, on TV.

Cross m'heart and hope t' die. That was a child's common oath,
where I was raised,
I was not reared, I was raised, as one brought up in a chosen way.

Should and shall, not being mine. The clades whose branches
and roots tangled in the land of the free, and home of the brave

gave cultural appropriation rights, down to the first idea used
to do stealing or killing or destroying…

in the real we share universe of air and word based descriptions,
here,
my most realized future so far. North Korea has Nukes.

Oh, no. We are, really, all
gonna
die… and if there were no fear of death, there never had been slaves.

Hero's only role, be like Jesus, or any of the redeemed heroes of old.

Wiseman's only role, say no. I'll just die. Go, Socrates…

Guiding still small voices only role, say yes, this is the way.

The old way, where good is. See, blindly, feeling light.
Guessing it's okeh to say.

Life can be enjoyed, or not. Like magic beguiling ideas, spirit being one such word in common spacetime. We all can

imagine not hating, actual deep heart level rage revenge serial ****,
and rekill,
machine gun ****. in the spirit of the bayonet, invited into each boy,

pledged in aliegiance and under oath sealed with one step,
on command. You left.

Left foot, swings out, in unison right on
down the line,

we have marched into pre-historia, and… nothing. This is it.

We have reached a level of word-sense distribution that can
use prehensile engineering to grasp mechanical concepts,
at quarkishly unbelievably…

ping… my generation, represented by Michael Douglas,
down where time
is totally kerwhacky, and that's the science, in a nut shell.

--------- As Vanderbilt is said to have said…

No, the wiseman insists, the greedy miss the point, the gate,
honed most,
sharpest *****, scarcely felt… when truth is called lie,
and knowing itself is said to have been verboten.

Who asked what is the first lie? First in terms of what?

Failed tries? Tries to do what? Get it. Right. Guess, we live
and learn or become the Left Behind,

having missed the memo about the acceptable fasts function.

Same Yesterday Today Forever. Constant flux, bubbling
as a universal metaphor.

Just after landing, Walters spoke to the press, saying:[6][7]
It was something I had to do. I had this dream for twenty years, and if I hadn't done it, I think I would have ended up in the funny farm.
The aircraft was dubbed Inspiration I. Lawn Chair Larry was awarded the title of "At-Risk Survivor" in the 1993 Darwin Awards.
----
Later in his life,
Walters hiked the San Gabriel Mountains
and did volunteer work
for the United States Forest Service.
... broke up with his girlfriend
of 15 years and could only find work
sporadically as a security guard.[14]
On October 6, 1993,
at the age of 44, Walters died
by suicide
after shooting himself
in the heart
in Angeles National Forest.[14]

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

When that one last thing was done fifty years ago,
if you are still reading this, then

you had somebody else's bucket list.

Wild mind grown gentle in survival.

Christ, the mind, not the imagined, the actual
what would the persona in the role be bound to do?

Destroy the works of the captivator, the adversary
of sanity,
the governmental mind, the entity of empires amore-
pheum fume de an English man,

sung in presentation saying I am seed of a dream,
messages were racing up and down on ladders loaded
with message carriers, each having for wings,
wheels spinning so fast, the spokes were lifted on wind.
Ezekial said, spoked wheels in each of those, and inside that
wheels in wheel I tell you, I swooned,
-I knew, all things do work,
it’s a process…
and one line later I learn, I am in the book of life.
Just think of that, of all the readers of any line,
you read mine.
In your time.
And gave me cause. Ready is read past-tension. Sprung.

Compete for your attention,
why would I?

What's the payoff, as they say,
what's in it for me?

Did you learn that?
Did your culture leave you a little,
enough
to know
you got a price to pay for any rest,
true rest, trust me, in peace,
you can't earn that.

Analog, anabasis… trip, short, burn the bug to carbon dust…

Seeking in my treasury of books, pared down to ones with personal attachments,
- I sought a Welsh-English pocket dictionary, gifted me
- by a taller and older, by experience, Overmeyer… Bob,
- but he was one of a few in the corp, band of brothers,
- who sang along with me, when he heard me humm,
- he knew the words, worth-ship fixing words, yes,
- we shall gather at the river that flows by the throne of truth. Mmmmhmm, so we shall see, so we shall see,
Oldman river, you know,
you wait, and wait, fishin' wishin' cogitations got from *** go,
known good, known evil, and evil comes for effect, not cause,
clean up, aisle five
hell, in a target store. And a Walmart, #26.
-- I recognized the anti particle, passing through either or,
becoming here, from there, your thinking my thinking,

wall of text, in your current context, this wall has hat

hooks to insights marked pertinent someday, in the wide ocean
at the end of any river mind me and error master,
as awareness, meandering as all fluids do.
Aligning in honed most saline crystaline form, as
current opinions shapened from dust and ash originally,
then spit the idea out as a word,
imagine
matter… mater, really, bottom first bit, was realized after
paterialization falled to manifest self reproduction…
patterned thought, fabrication, plane geometry… which we
as a team, a man and his tools, gunslinger, plus accoutrements.

Yep. Adam, did not work alone. The egg was first. He named eggs.
And chickens, full of eggs, no, hope, and chaos, nada mas…
- morals from old stories, we had lost all hold on those…
Stepmothers after The Hundred Years war, like as not was
first slave, with only obey believed enforce,
as far as
holy vows spoke allowed, but in a whisper…
hear us,
old folk, we scatterbrained old rockers by the fireplace
listen, this is living, right.
Pursue haps as haps occur, in thinking one thing or this other,

Our kind, fixed position ears perpindicularly augmenting per-
iferal vision, if, just, if. Immeasuarable meanings, justice, yes,

we settled at that point. All the Promises - in any living faith,
even dying proves life is a chance, we all go through it, and some leave marks, while others leave a heart felt
oxitocin, not cotin, red on yellow, **** a fellow, -tocin. Oxitocin,

Rush!- Kettle DRUM after a cello up run, or an old familiar rif,
Goin' up country, ' bought a map for a dime,
from a time lain aside in book, as I was seeking that Welsh word for these experience in side, feeling inside, but being mere, yes, not a limiting adjectival modification, on a word, intended to soothe,

NOT ******, soothe, as said of gentle rolling seas, calm as constant as Jupiter's ever near there, right there, red spot, there,
that is an anomoly, yet, there are those who claim clarity, that

Red spot, Ted-talk phaze, ease in, get a buzz, mmmm, slow, slow

slow
whoa, so slow, what difference can plain-people, just us,
can we ever just know, this is the way, no obstacles,
and we leave trails, and trails widen, and widen, and widen,

wide as the milky way as seen from North Korea.
What a blessing, right?
--- God made these chickens we are eating,

no, child we selected these big red hens, people, like us, we can
know how earthly goods grow and we can help, as gard'ners,
retired guardians and priests can, make soil richer,
by leaven from the native soil,
fresh after fire, sparks the bloom

Patience, paid close attention, over time,
pay is as interest always is, compounding…
complex knots
slipping infinite loops generation systems
spinning straw to gold, bricks to build a tower…

to grow mustard into brocolli and cauliflower, prosper-o

we can engineer squash blossuming
be.. not spelch-pstpst-offt-listen,
- laughing
in my home are children, aged 6 to 13, across a seven year gap…
in my home with complete 5G internal Wifi, with cable
- copper, ah
- the humm, copper wire interference, acceptible as soft
- sub-spectra sfumati self-edged,- cut from whole cloth
abrupt.
Con, is with, fuse, is
blown… but, click, we are past that, where I live, on a pension.
I survived an oath in a war. And in America, the we, as
represented in Congress after Korea, and UCMJ, reach, reach,
- remember the ears that read, need to know
right, MP talk, uniform, all the exact same alignment and weave… for forsake, forsooth, forgotten gains, -- un-fore-gotten
upright walking, living concept, Phoebe Zeitgeist
- she made a word nest in my mind, on March 16, 1968.
- On a Douglas Flying Tiger insertion mission,
Flying to a foreign land more foreign than any thus far, redux.

Surreal stepped up to real, realms of preception, Metaverse/
uniform code under it all, we wished for this, can we, can we,

please, walk back in and watch the shadows morph to home sized I-max with true-fi dolby optimized to your very own, humanity
verified self--
- eyes up, look where we were when ever, then be come you now known as dear reader, responsibility free, cookie or no?
Be any mind you find you can wear with no wish to lie,
the wrong mind set with the ears and eyes, and we cannot lie…
you lose.
The whole ritual of prayer and supersites, tics, ****. We glow…

once illegal exposure
confidential, super-secret, super-positioned tyrannical systems,

whole cloth leprosy, black mold to dust time sequence…
-- such minds as fed us Elliot and Thorough Error-prone Poses,

as seen from the repressed mind of an unassimulated inate-ifity,
We are none of us, Adam sons, his model had nor repro circuits.

Hey, once there had to be something akin to ****** birth,
really, mitochondria developed virally, just fine, so, so fine,

imagine, we got the cell, a wall, with enzyme will efforts on the doors, we open to need, and useful matter is accepted,
as in another phase we open to expel the uselesshit, which then fills the red corpuscles, which use iron to hold the load.

Flushing blushing bride, Mito-mom, her daughters, imagine…

trackless wasteland, aftermath of minor miscalculation
in the dancing cosmos, whirling
whiling, smiling
inside…

I made it. 2022, Everest Pax, is the real name
of my youngest grand son, who randomly
reassures me he loves me, as though he wishes me
to not let that slip, naturally, his version of me is fragile,

what he imagines I am can disappear, in a day,
like Uncle Mike, and Uncle Dennis, and Uncle Richard,
and Uncle Remus…
none of whom were alive, when Everest Pax was named,
by his mother, with no input from me, save
the covenant aspect in the who gives this wombed man…
common pagan ritual adapted to post-Jesus Christ-sanity.

X-mas, nada mas. Agree, and take the cookie,
or risk another death,
on the real wrong battlefield… Well, what the hell… hero
or legend in my mind, thinking, what would any who do?