That fast, that
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4493596/snippit-of-the-hair-of-the-dog-after-all/

is freedom of the word, my friend.
Early, in a mortal context, we, a
we we acknowledge with science, we were beguiled.

We know. That is right.
We know. We can taste when we lie. I know,
you say how
can this voice speak of infinite measures mostly
my own cursings caused, as in the Jimmy Buffet song,

it's been my own ****** fault.
I found my self all safe and sound sittin' on a mound
of ambergris worth big bucks in - wait

recalci*trantadjective\ ri-ˈkal-sə-trənt \

:obstinately defiant of authority or restraint
:difficult to manage or operate
:not responsive to treatment

From <https://www.britannica.com/topic/Book-of-Jonah>

Nineveh! Yes I did know, AI knew for show, see we also

know the scent of clues, exclusions, subtil-itisities
settle from the mist, as gorillas in the toss ball saw
see we o we see
same same many, with a y means a bunch, a lot, lots and lots

mani- with an I, eh, manifestered Caps allowed Mani-suggestions,
heaven versus hell,
sanity infected maddened masses messages piling
as she who hesitates is lost,
awe
some, say the fallen, I as good as saw o
m y god, we believed this fool,

this thief,
who believed the the joker was the lie,
seems okeh in each way we measured
as if we need to me-assure
this is the answer
after all

measurable peace
of mind, is kinda crazy
to imagine,
when we test our resolution,  
to solve
for truth's first function

we get the same answers. This is life, we make up the rest.

Diametric opposites, polarized,
me assured,
I am

at this point,
on this given day
in these taken chances

using my time just fine,

to breathe,
and find my bearings,

things assisting painless turnings,

near perfect spheres, bearings,
in this same race, each have
being same round and round

behavior, thinking between letters,
letting the rivers
of white
in justified
machine set
type leave impressions
of meandering,

I have a sister lost
in dementia, me and
her, we have a marvelously rare history.

She became
to be come quite old, and happy enough,

some old pains, quite old, local shames and such.

Pain at personal scale, old.

Told. For thinking about old mindform we wore
uniformly joining
by invitation any weform reforming

after that atom bomb blew our mind's
and religions hell's
was apoppin', bells was a rangin' rage,
rage against,

the very mechanics of mental advancement.

Mental agreement, mind join agreement,

binding by my back ups in the may be book,
whither any idle word uttered
in conscience confident
all cons are gamers
with science
used as ware
under tortuous line
by line life's values re-exams
- so, once examined,
- then what, Socrates?

the plight
of the navigators
on Life's trial
of those dabar logos

whatsoever we agree,
any we we form, as such
weforms agree
to begin
to make a way, such as

lets any
with the tech, translate
with some hand jive,
letters writ
in mud, since Enheduanna had an influence,
letting ready readers write esoterica,
worth, cost, price,

coded clay tables, writ
in plain text, secure, safe, sound.

Your value lies in knowing the code.

-worth, cost, price, reason - one up

Reading the runes
per uses of rue, in rue the day,
Kairos came into rhetoric class, as warez
laughter
after pain, not
at pain, hoh-eee, here
woe, was so woeful just a while ago
freeverse universe uniformly recognized, here

per usage ritual usual
occupation, aging grace ag on

push me now,
ask me how

I came
to know, okeh, enough,
dabar
to say inspire is spirits, pluralable peaceably so

slow breathe, pearl diver mind,
slow think, thunk,
sunken

thens
whens
those
there
they the others
whens
thens

Zappa, with no acid, just was aware
informing any with an ear, hear,

you are the other people, too.

Yeh.
So.

surfeit- stuck on the clipboard,
shadow of muse long
shadier than many
counterfeit
What good did I lose,
when I lost a day,
when I lost

yesterday,

man, the best hold
on the whole idea,
we ever had, duty
we share in
the world that we occupy, we inhabit,
so whatever good we do gets done,
one day at a time,
in this wilderness,
aspirational inspiration
is as fleeting as a thought never written,

but, if you caught the fleeting thing,
and wrote in the most flowing
effluently efficacious way,

beautiful zone shone known knowns

and lost it to a literal glitch,
an old forgotten buffer flush

lost in transfer from chaos, through

some kind of standard query language
patented Microsoft gadget,

for which, now,
I must wish a fix, a certain deja vuish
recovery that must be
in here,
some place I must seek

to find, or, leave it go,
one day,
what the hell,
the nonsense
of that as a question
or an expletive
at a surprise,
a wrinkle
a surfeit patience fabrication, too
compleatly
much idle time, too little aim

at being seen
at the scene

of the last confident lay down,

almost all I'll go rythms that we hear,
after sufficient trust exposure
surprise is never the plan,

value for value
idle words
for idle time.

A matched wisdom,
seeing the worth
of the effort
to be doing over,
ever put

right where
the surfeit nothing was…

put in place holding peace pose


So, now, then
sad, sorta,
not bad,
or mad.

At peace, permanence

advantage, eternally true
when you know you
knew backups exist,

or believed you knew…

tov ra, towb ra' gnosis,
da'ath chabad advantage

wisdom, is the kingdom
of truth, which, it is writ,

the God Jesus worships,
the spirit of truth, in truth
must be taken at true value

Faire and far dhe put here.

Say that tree holds witness,

with our wits about us we do

more thinking than other doing

so… Thinking, that other day…

deemed written off, but loved,

didn't we survive yesterday, ain't

this so, so we might make peace,

enough to fill the Boötes Void.

Using poems read once imagined twice.

Mystic musterion
intricacy, weaver's lessons,
ever more tedious and finer

wearing away old layers of lies,
a little here,
a little there,
all the room
     in the world
            to spread

the whole cloth  
of single strands,
the whole duty
of the master weaver,
the whole work
of one's seasons tediums
time's
turns
into next seasons phases preparing,
toilsome and wearisome as it must be,

but
by the very nature
of naked man, made

long common quotidean
threading of things in patterns,
most time consuming practical use
of time,

spinning and spinning and spinning,
already cut and rhetted and carded
and combed
to full fluffy flaxen strands,
twisting and twisting and twisting
in time,

to the first story grandfathers remember,

the memory
of parcel twine, how handy
that stuff was, and baling wire, howdy
do, that was useful material,
always have some,
on a journey…

You maybe,
never baled hay,
as an old whole ghost's muser,
in the spirits gossamerisms
of truth's coverings
in fine twined linen, delicately

tugged flaxen thread divinely

hooked and looped fibers
practically perfect
for making strings

--- but making things, and watching things
being made, art performance,
at 4x quick
post 2025 worth of ra' attention
prepaid experience imaginable once
entertaining demonstrations costing days,
days, and days, of focused aimed know how,

and -- awareness,
wearing consciously, how
which tools uses must have once been practiced,
grooved habitual routes to the effectual prayer,
points and edges honed to tedious-most tasks,
using utmost point
to point
at prepositioning

synchronized realization,
at just right, feel,
agree,
time immemorial, feel, it snaps
in place,

-- when after ever before,
or just whenever, once

the peace maker faces the hero,
the bullslayer up against
the ox maker all ready
wearing gnoshit grins

winners woof, crosses
losers tight tuned warp…

and we are back
at that rocking chair,
pushing the piston, pulling a vacuum,

consequently lifting exhaust valves,
in right order, letting loose lost time…

free
for wondering what ifery in,
while redeeming the worth
of the rocker./ already
gone silent, mere mind
reading fragments
from weavers
aloud
to the spinners
great notion
in season,
fashion has all
in denim now, eh

weary mind needs a peasant's
experience, bone deep,
to imagine weary

we have lost many peasantries,
few weavers remain, willing
to sit and rock, singing
some old radio tunes

where once were word weavers,
earnestly adapted
to the art
of making effort effects
do be lieve just so is so sometimes, perfect
and close enough,
both
become mechanized
in order
to relate,
the musterionic constancy
of posed
to be ability,

see, selfie, ah, we,
we see us all
from Saturn, daily noticed
in my house, we look
from as far away as possible

and figure the odds
of your taking ownership,
wordlessly, infancy, illiterate
in times readiness,

I know this idea, yes, whole

alike and not alike, heads tails edges,

terms, borders between all and nothing at all

in other words,
same inside, same outside,
as above, so below, is what trees show known,
however, whenever fructification buds show
now
spring time
of year living duties did and do depend,
on when which branches bloom, somebody alive
does know how food gets
to the grocery store…
somebody alive
now, does all the planting and reaping and peeling
and cooking and putting

before us
to chew and swallow and know,
if you choke, you die, so
chew slow, you live

this way… not right away, so
zehr slooow
mindwerks inner wille zur machen
instant in season out of season,
so global are we now,
as those

with plenty idle time redeemed reading

most abstract ideas dementia imagined makes

we have machinists now, threaders and tighteners,

toters and totalers accounting
for cost
in misery,
due
to you doing nothing but
read my minds wonderings
this whole while,
lazy rocking while reading

as we all spin,
at a rate a little faster
than a thousand miles in an hour,

and, if we were
to believe, deep kid oath level,
sworn, aliegiance
to something publicly relational
by witnesses confirmed, verb act done
--
believed
Christmas
celebrated the peace,
the message makes when taken
in peace,
and given to us as users of air,
as planet sharing neighbors
with inalienable rights
to reason
with holy business,
to earnestly contend

for the faith
of a mustard seed, ready
to be messed
with genetically so far past Darwin's

bulldog's levered pivoting power slamming
letters
in inks sublimated
into silken ribbons,

keyed at upto a hundred wpm,
read now at five words per minute,

-- a hundred monkeys, and never a stuck jam
of keys struck all
at once, as any non patiently trained typist
most assuredly
did know,
so common,
while imagining companions,
such minds do sort
on ****** nationalized ontologies.

Just my type, scary as Virginia Wolf,
but after Xanax, mellow momma.

How comes and knocks why
through a loop
where there is a hook
just when needed a stitch
in time, hero action micro deed,
taken, made redone
done, sew on…

with miserly smiles,
promising God is watching,

be good, easy, believe,
God hates lazy *******,
but, Truth, as preserved
to be conserved, duty wise, mine, chosen,

I took the long way
around the mountain,
meandering in flux
as feels right
downhill,

I followed a stream I

think I imagined drinking from once,

in Holbrook, Arizona.
No, Wickenburg, right.
Famous as the river Lethos, but
Hasayampa water make you
only tell lies,
therefore
effectually eventual splitting spirit's true
from spirit's false, mere made up test ifs,

when you eat fish,
spit the bones, with watermelon, spit seeds…

during late stage maturity among mortals…

ways have been made knowable,
how sacred arts
present worth
with lavishes so thin,
takes flies eyes to see lines
divine intuited beauty knowable, except,

the fundamental
what we are
has
being as
a story told us, all,

during our subjection
to information compression,
allowing multifunction parallel processing
in no time.

----------- 2025 from go, new time, new reason, peace
made and fixed held
through hell
and back
in time
where no peace was, my
mind sees that peasant's horse,
too noble a steed, stranded
for any but the best
of hearts, lost

Bucephalus, old spirit,
pull the plow, pull the cannon,
come pull all us attention payers
to vivid big screen attention paying all
our wages,

in the current republic cave of
Socratic Platonic bemusement

- those initiates listening knew,
- those agents serving muses telling
- these listening invitees, now, turn and burn
- threaten those given God's vengeance,

as life long spirit

thirsty for knowing why after all.

After living while better folks didn't.

After inspecting each stone
in my tower,
as I breathe
and live behaving
alchemically as if imagined just so
happy with life and liberty and tools
being actively haps pursuers as we may,

we logical anomalies allowed reasoning,
teleological whying trials all some how

passed and representative as normal,
squared away, compassing gamma,

wise, back
to Enheduanna, grand whole

so told, perfect,
to the letter, each time,
so told, perfect, without fail,
to the letting

go, get on,

tell it
like it is

true, if money can fix it, it's not God's job.


may recall, the horse struggling in concertina barbs
between trenches somewhere in Alsace or Lorraine,

the war to end all wars… was over before
the author's father died… this idea, the authority

allowing living words… viral letters letting sense
trickle down, down
to the bottom,

first undeniable truth any willing warrior believes,

will we define our terms,
assuming usage our right, our ritual considerations,

we work day to day, quotidian tedium to some,
social fashioning consciousnesses to others.

Information, once published instantly,
as when all are made knowers, once,

truly tested, bested and bettered, after
ever
being cognizant of the tech teachers use,

naturally, misuse and abuse are exactly evil,

be therefore as ware, made
to handle problems
in chthonic holes

according to the relative coexistance
of us as users of these exact same words
to form these exact same

cogitations, at one and the same
instance, as we words once writ remain

the same idea we were once you knew

the class of magi, those advisors of bullish

summer gangs of boys, sent off seeking wives,

seek a prudent wife,
seek an Enheduanna, or a Jael, be humbled

as she possesses your very soul, and leaves
your spirit cheering, you know

we can spin all day long, we can even, look,
imagine,
a rocking chair, see, keep on, hush,

little baby, don't you cry,
listen to the grandmas laughing,

way up yonder after history you'll never
pay up then and there, after all's said

all's just said,
so, that's all.

The practice,
the accepted right, good enough,

as with practice one's fingers learn,
each note, each tempo, each stain

eradicated, recollected and confessed,
irrational as time running the other way,

life, the experience, surviving any way,
eventually, we rest, or die while fretting why.

Commune with the chorus calling our attention,

as we, this pair, this form mankind can take,
readily, from the source, in truth a child knows,

if given half a chance,
if one causal agent takes patience to perfect

the unwanted child,
to fill the will
to become
the utmost valuable kind
of thing that ever is
contained in minds of our kinds,
a vessle to hold golden oil used for light.

Yes, light hearted frolicking's toddler's joys,

recalled from memory, as if ever with us,
this strength willing to make of us, this

mind involved in finishing the refurbishing,
so the sword of truth glistens rust free,
as the finest whetstone hones this edge,
minding our manner of thinking we know,

if
then
this that we aspired to, inspired by you, is
the entire you, foil plural mind to my weform,
after time
is no more, eternity now
happens as happens
to seem to be, then is,

enough to think about a while.

Later then than now,
yesterday as we imagined,

so many things they think again,
and again
and again,

we passed this way my friends,
we made right now
into a happy place,
-just now, to remind you

we leave you photos of us
all at once,
taken from our robot eyes,

national pride financed projects.

Visible through this window,
go look, see the whole world,
in the cloud of all we ever knew

there is even one with the moon's

night side showing. We are small,

but I am in the red MAGA hat, waving.

I don't see you but you were there,

or possibly, would be if we took this shot
today, hook and loop, look at us, that's Earth.

That's where every prophecy was told from.

Belief and unbelief
credit and discredit

any child woe hoh-eee

who made the world believe,

whose will is logic in reality we agree,

realizing aggressors

aggress one more step,
approach propinquity

character Mammon weform re

always wishing we knew, real ways

life takes from finished stars, I was told,

wisdom given me was with truth held

in ideas like pi and phi and mindspeed

extracted in living ways,
by inquisitive catechism cavities,

did fluoride work? Did I get old?

I got a lotta shots to be a soldier,
I got scorpion stung and know guys,

they ranch rattle snakes, those guys,
they took polaroids,

prolly all faded, but we seen 'em all us/

we uns tuning in from til 12th of never

platters, record skip stuck, stop it never

o o o no nonono,
u do no gnowing now how much

it costs somebody for me to live,

but, as all truth seeking philosophers

agree in the spirit
of Tesla's antennae tester's kids…

dedication, emotion, attach, we
all know life is dull if you never

have time
to finish thinking one thing
about how
to brake
at high eliptical orbit,

did you see that little blur,
look close spaceplane earth image

moment
in time, once, really

but you need
to know gravity,
and chaos and time, elementally

we think it all is dancing, happening

to be knowable because behaviors,

we mostly
all have mastered,
if we are reading this
on Earth, adapting

… if pride is the problem,
look at Earth from far away

then turn around and see what we see.

It should normalize that VOG,

--- amusing thuds icebergs
blown sky high come down
to become those still ponds

aero error unthunk thud thus
brake Power wowser
hoh-eee'

there was a double feature
Joseph Süß Oppenheimer,

not the bomb guy, three centuries
previous use
of political mindspheres metaphoring
In the meantime, Süß discovers he is the illegitimate son
of a respected nobleman, but decides
to continue living as a Jew, as he is proud
of having achieved such a position despite this.

Proud handicap, all I have sir,
it is funny, but I know,
wanna bet,

One Love, Mr. Marley,
show the skulls somebodyscrunching,

oh, death, don't linger
take me swiftly in just one breath…

well then, certain as any reliving after
exposure to a standard acheivement proof of work

I am not a robot, I operate qwerty guy,
we work hand in hand, each side accustomed

to these words and apps that let us get old school
El Ron Hubbard from the boomer cupboard,

Life or Look in or around October, 1969
parts of this are old thoughts rethought and edited,

Not palimpsests, those are a pain,
not as bad as charcoal scrolls, though, so

what's new for old stores of information?

Did we learn who redacted Daniel?

Or who had Kennedy killed and caught
all the witnesses, oh, the weight of a place,

honest to god hill billy heaven, you'd be
with the Hawks at Jack Ruby's club,
related
onyermommaside, see, so when you know,
relatively suddenly,
it's all show,
that's business, we're learning
though, through
some old ways wisdom proves peace,
made up in a mind, worth
what ever peace making buys these days,
what ever pretense for war we leave be gone,

this is ever
appearing as today brought to you by

Natural occurences, alpha thought, the first letter

is e. dot. e as in mcsquared, a kinda winding all the way
around once, at a snails pace, kinda wondering the way

spirals got on those rocks back when stories lived
in precious good to know a little bit of the big parade,

a proper triumph,
as an idea, such are as rare as detectable Earths.

you cannot hold the whole truth you think you know,

like, of course,

while
in the course,
of human events,

human earthdust structure underlying vulcanism,
eons non timed merely making hydrogen
leib-ecombomb
oh helio centric we think,

gravity wise, it's all chaos, until, limit preposed

crystaline salt at its lifeless grandest, supposed

organized minds, informing seekers

to take it easy, thinking nothing
on the radio spectrum bumps

photons meandering
through optic fiber strands,

to land and assume you're
with me… wanna back track?

There's a movie
about this guy,
in my moment ago, who

knew so many things change,
with a little radiant energy

used
to think so many things,
with Turing Mental Machines

and time
and Von Neuman's longest
spiraling general truth
self replicating

across all actual paradigms projected,

into theaters that were palaces,
when they turned
on the lights,

to sweep trash strewn
by litter bugs,

and I was one, and I was many characters,

from the dramas that normalize us, or used
to
properly tuned, that pure note, you, in awe.

In the desert,
in the night, not
on TV, but went and did that,

by myself…

and only I saw, so these memories,

these are made up, you see,

some jokes, beau geste la joconde

madjalook, mused, not guiled, not guiledly
slight smile deep breath

twice. If it is fun
to make fun, why does it hurt?

Where does that hurt,

did I stomp your TOE?

I was kinda hoping, ai'n'all, truth trials

redeemed time, thinking Bic speed,
candle light, setting, one pocketbook

paperback writer beat it ****** hoh-ee

woe is we who watched it all fade away,

laughing at the worth
of living, winning,

like,
a year and counting

after three focused bolts of lightning

while we were honest
to god flying,
while dying, honest, helicopter
came and got me
and I did not

stay dead, they jolted me into

right now.

Whenever I think about the odds of this
or that… you never know all things, this

way, at truepuregnosishit preparation,

- wait, what if… interuption erupts,
- a laughing sigh, nnnand gate do-overy coo

harmless Feynman joke three gates back

hoh-ee means woe,
in the KJV, so we know.
repetition, proverbs lead somewhere.
Not magic, iusta thinking, instance deja vued
he ja way per se
a bit, snippet, voices in the hall, children and grandma

all watching fourteen seasons of NCIS, and,

that's this today here, spring forwarded, and

thinking this happens
at breathe-ing speeds, I love it

drifting, practice dementia, musing, practicing harmonica

alone,
on a hill, breathe-ing
with a mossy granite wall time speckled beside me,

I can imagine we all did it just

this once

just this.

Fair trade rabbit hole, hooks
Dodgson, dominated Disneyified

first seen through the smoke
from the loge for smokers,
in front of the projector,

you've seen the scenes, cartoons
in the smoke
on its way

almost any way
that's beautiful.

Look at me,
a bit or a tad too high, pleasantly

aware we were reaching past
last
grasp

stretching to think lively.