Religion
-- last call for second guesses
-- last call to change the title
right usual coordinated
sunrise, sunset, seasonal wobble
peak hot to peak cold, seed time
and harvest
Boomer me, fretfu-lless, truly touched
Reliance on another to squeeze
the blemish in the flooded shame zone
Shame on me for being broken, gone
astray on my journey through our past
have a seat, this ain't a ditty or a jingle
this is life, at the end, as seen by folks,
who have to some degree expected it
to end before plural me in this wewas-
When in time one is passed by,
when in mind one is mixed up,
thinking how small a force a worry is,
thinking how short a life in history is,
imagining magical belief redefined,
reimagining being mindful not now,
and now, breathe-ing, feeling lungs fill,
fixing the image of an inside this body
common sense of pattern and position,
a place for processing air that is everywhere,
and then in me, in spirit form, gaseous matter
wishful thinking, sorted from anxious thought,
meeting encouraging words long thought true,
or truly taught as true if you can handle truth,
everyone who asks receives, can that be true?
What is enough and enough to share, if not true
when taken as granted one ration, one share of
plenty, already here, enough and more than enough
while having intelligence from far away, of course,
as with the fool who believes the news as told today.
We, the free and the brave, we may have retold lies,
the conversion from thoughtless trust to true rest,
accepting science in consciousness, dividing faith in fact,
from faith in if-then promises put to the test and found,
plenty for the moment, mental motive reconsideration,
Pleiades sweet influence, patience perfecting prayer, waiting
to make believe I believe I have
enough for now, and hope enough to carry on, waiting
for the truth to free my fretful self from my happy person.
the praxis, the making up of certain honed points…
practice practice practice Billy Graham
boasted about wanting to preach so bad,
he had to go out in the bottoms and shout
Hellfire and brimstone at the peeping frogs.
--
Wisdom from above is not love, its peaceable
feeling, swallowing some story whole, chokes
the whole idea of why out of a child, exposed
to the way Eli Weisel made us understand a why
I can remember QUEENS FOR A DAY
WHO ONLY WANTED A TATOO REMOVED, on TV
who thinks hate is easy to untie, once tied wrong,
ah
fret not, Jung has an archetype
at the ready, slippery gnosinots
just for Granny Knots,
and another essence
for Daddy wounds.
--
Practice preaching teaching memorized,
fret not, only believe, believe, believe
relieve the misbelief by asking truth, free me
from my debts, take my transgressing mind
across the line limiting my ability to accept
answers that answer yes, take and eat, only
believe
"to have faith or confidence" thinking fine,
what is true, ask a dead man,
And faith is neither the submission of the reason,
nor is it the acceptance, simply and absolutely
upon testimony, of what reason cannot reach.
Faith is:
the being able
to cleave to a power of goodness appealing
to our higher and real self, not
to our lower and apparent self.
[Matthew Arnold, "Literature & Dogma," 1873]
And the wheels on the bus go round and round.
Fidelity of message sent forward from ever ago,
freedom from is coupled with freedom to make
believe, for the time at hand, all is as it must be.
Fret not, "
And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches."
For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again: but the wicked shall fall into mischief.
Have I not trusted, have I not enough and enough to share, how have my transgressions become missed
chances lost in all my yesteryears jeering me on,
loser, loser, good for nothing *** none who rely on me,
have hope in truth for their faith in my supply of plenty,
drawn from true luck in fact, conceivably drawn from breaths taken and put to living uses in our shared pasts
Scribbling nonsense stirring up old word based faith,
finding myself a lazy person expecting wisdom truly
freeing me from fretting about money in 2026, when
thousands are suffering under monstrous powers
thousands are without enough of all that ought be free
for the asking, according to the religions at work among
the poor who accept hope
as the substance
faith can make feel thinkable,
realizable peaceably thought through
-- some time later that one day…
Giving and receiving, being fooled and fooling
for a while reconceiving how hope makes faith,
and faith keeps the faithful performing, in hope,
taking time that is mine to make use of or waste,
asking all that wisdom is to make use of my asking
as if asking while thinking it is vain to ask again, if
having asked and thought long the rhema logic, if
all things work together, as I must say I do believe,
all things working at scales I mentally can grasp, if
I have use of these magnificent letters to hold thought,
at what if or wonder if stages, leaving be the evidence,
not falsely so called, in seed stage curiosity, idle amenable
agreeable weform reformed under all that we have learned,
about the literal truth, the letter that lets us think together,
fret not because of evil men, yet we fret for our children,
why have we no whole idea of we, the people of earth
?
---- okeh, I was poor
long enough to know it
Look at me, I say to me, see me be
what I think I am to any not me being
logos y nada mas, mere mind in order or chaos,
what work does meditation on the difference make,
spoken word, written word, put to the task of reasoning,
asking my child self if I believe in Jesus, as a sent messenger,
or if I have long held as true a telling of a made belief, pretend
I am sure I do not know how to eliminate the weight of debt
that the society I was born into allowed and my ignorance
kept me innocent to this degree, I trusted the authority,
I trusted the grownups I was entrusted to by parents even more
restricted in what they could have known for sure and certain,
-- the anointing and the explanation, now it all is artifice, unless
ah we agree, me and my two sides of rationality, artfully hoping
to make some semblance of balanced acceptance and expectation.
Under the practice of asking in my core thought process, if truth
can make my troubling cogitations make a single hair white or black,
can my acceptance of a stored story's moral worth, make a false a true?
Have I not defended the faith I accepted when I was very broken, badly
formed fit for no honest labor nor any winning awarded peace in rest and love,
I am near tears to think of this, to look at the rhema spoken, tithes paid,
services rendered, all apparently amounting to this state, altered or otherwise
alone, am I, aware I am not the only writer writing to myself, to hold the whole
idea that magic thinking is just what I have believed believing in miracle freedom
from cares and worries, freedom from ******* to creditors who I know are evil
at the core where usury, long known to be evil, is causing this fretting in me,
I feel the claws of a trap I was enticed into by ignorance on my part, and I am sore
discouraged from saying I believe I have been made free from my transgressions,
my misteps my misbeliefs my misconceptions held as true enough to say I have believed
asking brings true answers, not art, not more than heart can think or ask, but useful
when feeling need to be set free from contracts within the conqueror's privilege,
as when I went into a bubble of made believers made to make a liar rich and trusted
as I live and breathe, the spirit in the spoken words told me in my meditations, only believe
by my will, filled with hoped for faith,
indeed, hoping against hope
for some today, far worse
conditions
in refugee camps and homeless shelters, here, I sit,
under mortgage
and fear and disappointment
from true hopes not only deferred but pretty much crushed,
sick at heart am I, not lying
to myself, not able
to say -- unless I redefine the terms, enough
and enough
to share that does good, enough good,
to take away such despair, such grief
there is in the interconnected minds
of mankind who have been led astray, life,
in truth
breathing answers to distant prayers, sighing amen,
give us this day our reason
to continue, give the hopeless hope,
and make the mistaken debts be taken out
of the way, help
for today where help is needed
in full measure, today,
help the helpless, help the unworthy
on any economic scale, help the sick hording proud ones
unbelieve any lies about truth we all have been prone to tell.
Honed most me,
tov ra' friction in my shame,
shame that I have become helpless, shame
beautifully intricately knotted recoknown
that I am not nearly so helpless, as many,
many I have seen afar off
on our televisions,
made plain, seen afar off
in legendary cedar nations ruined
by the powers that have made science evil.
The minds we must imagine have been twisted
into commodities we imagine we could sell if we
knew how the entertaining empires pay for words
explaining visions we must sympathize with, without
any hope to make one severed limb regrow.
____________
A brief friend,
among the many there have been,
this one was destined
to become rich, not me,
he was a gambling man, fretted to death
unless my debt did get disgiven, ungiven for gotten gain,
enough, shout it to the heavens,
enough, be reasonable,
think how we are shattered
and broken and reasoning, asking why would we lie
to our children about God,
why would any wisdom suggest that on Earth
as seen from Saturn, or Voyager, war insures peace?
The truth that frees,
the spectacle spectator,
the specialist speculation
All in on peaceable test, one more time
all in on gentle test,
all in on gone and done.
All in agreement just said amen.
All in opposition just sorta grinned,
and gave us the push we simply hoped for.
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 7:02 PM UTC
Religion
-- last call for second guesses
-- last call to change the title
right usual coordinated
sunrise, sunset, seasonal wobble
peak hot to peak cold, seed time
and harvest
Boomer me, fretfu-lless, truly touched
Reliance on another to squeeze
the blemish in the flooded shame zone
Shame on me for being broken, gone
astray on my journey through our past
have a seat, this ain't a ditty or a jingle
this is life, at the end, as seen by folks,
who have to some degree expected it
to end before plural me in this wewas-
When in time one is passed by,
when in mind one is mixed up,
thinking how small a force a worry is,
thinking how short a life in history is,
imagining magical belief redefined,
reimagining being mindful not now,
and now, breathe-ing, feeling lungs fill,
fixing the image of an inside this body
common sense of pattern and position,
a place for processing air that is everywhere,
and then in me, in spirit form, gaseous matter
wishful thinking, sorted from anxious thought,
meeting encouraging words long thought true,
or truly taught as true if you can handle truth,
everyone who asks receives, can that be true?
What is enough and enough to share, if not true
when taken as granted one ration, one share of
plenty, already here, enough and more than enough
while having intelligence from far away, of course,
as with the fool who believes the news as told today.
We, the free and the brave, we may have retold lies,
the conversion from thoughtless trust to true rest,
accepting science in consciousness, dividing faith in fact,
from faith in if-then promises put to the test and found,
plenty for the moment, mental motive reconsideration,
Pleiades sweet influence, patience perfecting prayer, waiting
to make believe I believe I have
enough for now, and hope enough to carry on, waiting
for the truth to free my fretful self from my happy person.
the praxis, the making up of certain honed points…
practice practice practice Billy Graham
boasted about wanting to preach so bad,
he had to go out in the bottoms and shout
Hellfire and brimstone at the peeping frogs.
--
Wisdom from above is not love, its peaceable
feeling, swallowing some story whole, chokes
the whole idea of why out of a child, exposed
to the way Eli Weisel made us understand a why
I can remember QUEENS FOR A DAY
WHO ONLY WANTED A TATOO REMOVED, on TV
who thinks hate is easy to untie, once tied wrong,
ah
fret not, Jung has an archetype
at the ready, slippery gnosinots
just for Granny Knots,
and another essence
for Daddy wounds.
--
Practice preaching teaching memorized,
fret not, only believe, believe, believe
relieve the misbelief by asking truth, free me
from my debts, take my transgressing mind
across the line limiting my ability to accept
answers that answer yes, take and eat, only
believe
"to have faith or confidence" thinking fine,
what is true, ask a dead man,
And faith is neither the submission of the reason,
nor is it the acceptance, simply and absolutely
upon testimony, of what reason cannot reach.
Faith is:
the being able
to cleave to a power of goodness appealing
to our higher and real self, not
to our lower and apparent self.
[Matthew Arnold, "Literature & Dogma," 1873]
And the wheels on the bus go round and round.
Fidelity of message sent forward from ever ago,
freedom from is coupled with freedom to make
believe, for the time at hand, all is as it must be.
Fret not, "
And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches."
For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again: but the wicked shall fall into mischief.
Have I not trusted, have I not enough and enough to share, how have my transgressions become missed
chances lost in all my yesteryears jeering me on,
loser, loser, good for nothing *** none who rely on me,
have hope in truth for their faith in my supply of plenty,
drawn from true luck in fact, conceivably drawn from breaths taken and put to living uses in our shared pasts
Scribbling nonsense stirring up old word based faith,
finding myself a lazy person expecting wisdom truly
freeing me from fretting about money in 2026, when
thousands are suffering under monstrous powers
thousands are without enough of all that ought be free
for the asking, according to the religions at work among
the poor who accept hope
as the substance
faith can make feel thinkable,
realizable peaceably thought through
-- some time later that one day…
Giving and receiving, being fooled and fooling
for a while reconceiving how hope makes faith,
and faith keeps the faithful performing, in hope,
taking time that is mine to make use of or waste,
asking all that wisdom is to make use of my asking
as if asking while thinking it is vain to ask again, if
having asked and thought long the rhema logic, if
all things work together, as I must say I do believe,
all things working at scales I mentally can grasp, if
I have use of these magnificent letters to hold thought,
at what if or wonder if stages, leaving be the evidence,
not falsely so called, in seed stage curiosity, idle amenable
agreeable weform reformed under all that we have learned,
about the literal truth, the letter that lets us think together,
fret not because of evil men, yet we fret for our children,
why have we no whole idea of we, the people of earth
?
---- okeh, I was poor
long enough to know it
Look at me, I say to me, see me be
what I think I am to any not me being
logos y nada mas, mere mind in order or chaos,
what work does meditation on the difference make,
spoken word, written word, put to the task of reasoning,
asking my child self if I believe in Jesus, as a sent messenger,
or if I have long held as true a telling of a made belief, pretend
I am sure I do not know how to eliminate the weight of debt
that the society I was born into allowed and my ignorance
kept me innocent to this degree, I trusted the authority,
I trusted the grownups I was entrusted to by parents even more
restricted in what they could have known for sure and certain,
-- the anointing and the explanation, now it all is artifice, unless
ah we agree, me and my two sides of rationality, artfully hoping
to make some semblance of balanced acceptance and expectation.
Under the practice of asking in my core thought process, if truth
can make my troubling cogitations make a single hair white or black,
can my acceptance of a stored story's moral worth, make a false a true?
Have I not defended the faith I accepted when I was very broken, badly
formed fit for no honest labor nor any winning awarded peace in rest and love,
I am near tears to think of this, to look at the rhema spoken, tithes paid,
services rendered, all apparently amounting to this state, altered or otherwise
alone, am I, aware I am not the only writer writing to myself, to hold the whole
idea that magic thinking is just what I have believed believing in miracle freedom
from cares and worries, freedom from ******* to creditors who I know are evil
at the core where usury, long known to be evil, is causing this fretting in me,
I feel the claws of a trap I was enticed into by ignorance on my part, and I am sore
discouraged from saying I believe I have been made free from my transgressions,
my misteps my misbeliefs my misconceptions held as true enough to say I have believed
asking brings true answers, not art, not more than heart can think or ask, but useful
when feeling need to be set free from contracts within the conqueror's privilege,
as when I went into a bubble of made believers made to make a liar rich and trusted
as I live and breathe, the spirit in the spoken words told me in my meditations, only believe
by my will, filled with hoped for faith,
indeed, hoping against hope
for some today, far worse
conditions
in refugee camps and homeless shelters, here, I sit,
under mortgage
and fear and disappointment
from true hopes not only deferred but pretty much crushed,
sick at heart am I, not lying
to myself, not able
to say -- unless I redefine the terms, enough
and enough
to share that does good, enough good,
to take away such despair, such grief
there is in the interconnected minds
of mankind who have been led astray, life,
in truth
breathing answers to distant prayers, sighing amen,
give us this day our reason
to continue, give the hopeless hope,
and make the mistaken debts be taken out
of the way, help
for today where help is needed
in full measure, today,
help the helpless, help the unworthy
on any economic scale, help the sick hording proud ones
unbelieve any lies about truth we all have been prone to tell.
Honed most me,
tov ra' friction in my shame,
shame that I have become helpless, shame
beautifully intricately knotted recoknown
that I am not nearly so helpless, as many,
many I have seen afar off
on our televisions,
made plain, seen afar off
in legendary cedar nations ruined
by the powers that have made science evil.
The minds we must imagine have been twisted
into commodities we imagine we could sell if we
knew how the entertaining empires pay for words
explaining visions we must sympathize with, without
any hope to make one severed limb regrow.
____________
A brief friend,
among the many there have been,
this one was destined
to become rich, not me,
he was a gambling man, fretted to death
unless my debt did get disgiven, ungiven for gotten gain,
enough, shout it to the heavens,
enough, be reasonable,
think how we are shattered
and broken and reasoning, asking why would we lie
to our children about God,
why would any wisdom suggest that on Earth
as seen from Saturn, or Voyager, war insures peace?
The truth that frees,
the spectacle spectator,
the specialist speculation
All in on peaceable test, one more time
all in on gentle test,
all in on gone and done.
All in agreement just said amen.
All in opposition just sorta grinned,
and gave us the push we simply hoped for.
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