--------------
And in this we state, peaceable foremost,
recollecting puzzles uses, and disputing
the worth of imagining an others mind,
after my own was recognized as alienated,
by the nearest thing to an advizeer, we need,

the projected tweedy lisping image
of Judson McGeehee,
of blessed memory for his remark to me
about my use of the word ****** to modify
lost.

Truth at the authorial observers qwerty level
accomplished old man, letting this mind be
in him, thinking it no theft, your attention,
or mine, its all worth what we believe,
ultimately, we choose, win, or lose,

and live with knowing that's fine, in finest
grit, being coughed up from post shingle shot

reactions in our instants together as thought

Earth after any minute now is in its principal,
state of mind, tuning our minds through our time,

on Earth, whither many have long believed,
the perfect will is what won, witnessed done, indeed
peaceable, gentle, easily entreated,

settle down, warrior willing
to die for the truth
calling all you read, testing your hold on truth,
chains of pearls, anchor chains of pearls, truths
used
in your present reality to allow a fretless cough,
and sniff, in rememberance of Solzhenitsyn
and Don Beck, who read A day in the life…
in forty-five minutes, with his hearing aids off.

Ivan Denisov itch… but you knew it.

I gotta ask

myself, am I mad, or is this that day, again,
did we make a plan to finish something again,
and not do it, again?

I do believe, we have settled that both ignore and
believe are verbs in a modality, meaning

if you do not do it, yourself, it does not get done,
I believe ignorance is an active state, sold as faith,
evidenced by things unseen,
substantially manifested
in the peace you hoped
to find, being yours
to make up, in your mind,

and let it drift into reality, as we breathe our
insides out,

there could be a word for that.

For got about this thread, recent revelations
about how messed up my sense
of religion became
during my failed conditioning
to accept divine authority offered as self evidence,
without seeing a slight wink, truth makes thinkers think and thinking leads away
from lies used
to spiritually analogize authorized versions
of stories and lists
of property.
Who owns what by divine edict, do the math.

What is not easy, that is difficult,
what has many correct creases and folds, that
may become life
at the level
of things and thought,
spirit and truth,
imaterial pre real
no two minds in one, and not the other,
we must breed
to the best
in the matching
of wits,

this is the titans versus the Olympians alover again,
a
lover
of what may be, let us imagine, truth, essential,
as an assisting intelligence fed all we knew
in 2022,

and allowed
to guess what certain philosophies might
guage the worth
of being me, the author and finisher
of these lines,
in the future
from ever before,
promethean and epimethean means
of making time sensible
in simple but not too simple,
in between extremes
of fine ness,
from wall solid,
to breeze fluid fitting shear joy
on mere wonder, if one were
to bet one's life,
on a dive
into the unknown, known
to have swallowed
entire cosmogonies leaving mere scratches, hoping

to pass advantage
to the meek, as Moses, hoping,
from Pisgah, hoping
to see our day, and marveling… how easy being is.

I'm one of those guys,
I'm one of you all, the ones

to whom bread and circuses
sales and promotion
seem the dream job, be like…

Mike, right? Mikey likes it,
you should try a spoonful

of Life
from Quaker rooted mis
formed coops selling futures.

Make the connection, wireless.

Recall the Sleeping Prophet,
and make believe you believe,
become the seller of revelation,
Life,
hear, lend me an ear,
I'll take away the veil, you'll see.

Just listen to me, crossing the desert,
thinking just look at those stars,
this is all too beautiful to disbelieve.

Once done, once recognized as true,
down to the level of waves,
collapsing at a leaning ladder
with three steps,

proto Hebrew  logographic wisdom
knowledge understandable logic

Logos sophisticated sublime
revelation of the riddling
nature of all religions,
at the core connection,

deep down where soul and spirit
play one mind against the other,

to keep the exuberance down,
near the fundamental interpretation,

in a word to the wise, wagered
as enough to go all in on, one word,

thinkable top to bottom by any
with a link to thinking with science,
using, by right of knowing, new tools

for text used in laws and orderly
procedurals letting go courtly
rules regarding deference
to betters betting we lost,

while we have time in a klein bottle.

Past a certain point, life's news,
is reruns, and it never gets old,
the big reveal,
at the end.
My side won.

Who paid me to read Dostoyevsky?
Who paid me to read Solzhen-itsyn?
-no one, and then me, I paid me,
for having some idea,
should ever cause such a time as this:

Synch, Long Now, novel actuality,
down in the epi-stem logic, init
function
enough,

breathe and fret not next breath,
rest assured,
professional care has been taken,
we all become ready to make peace,

previously unthinkable, rights, made
possible whole otherwise, other tongues,

essential utterances eventually all blend,
and we believe the algorythms rhyme truth,
I'll go rhythms tug your muse,

mojo,
samesame gnosishit gnosisnot,
spirit breathes,

spit it out,
feel it being, said as good as done,
once,
upon a certain time,
and in this certain place, we come

hear wholey all she wrote, she wrote
on the wall at Delphi junction,
know:
your scale, measure, worth, weight, whole self.
your appetites are yours to hold true to good.
your owned certainties are your maddest bits.