All day... magi logic
0n time, out of non-time, once
and once and once and once
first time last time next time
now, how useless is the time
saved with utilized patience
waiting for the starting gun,
on the dot, go.
Letters all aligned right.
Living words and idle words,
alike and not alike, active empty
I am
aware
of myself
disconnected from anything
actually otherworldly or plain
unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable.
A sense, a feeling a little message unclear,
sent from some chron job running later
------------
I have no memory of a time this is like.
I am aware other people exist without me,
knowing anything related
to you, imagined reader, entertained
held among the living by chance at tension
coherency here at once, stickiness holding
wholesale ad copy calling attentions, set
at hold on, beheld by the beholding one
enough good sense to reach out, a root
to make a way where no way was, dying
to make an otherwise dead seed feed
future creatures drawn to the shine…
sunny day, yuccas about to bloom,
candles, those are called candles
of the warden of the loaves/
h'læf-vveardon, our guard/
keeper of the grain.
Poor people real people, or rich,
all breathe the same air, and think
at once as if making time tie thoughts
where all thought
to ask… or say out loud, why are we
born on this side of that war for liberty…
come all accumulated sneezes in threes
all among us how often sneeze
in threes spirit
of just enough, yucca agave wise
Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame
O no r u a me? On or uame me me me
is it I or we who
sit and listen, and
think a name we know,\
listen if some bird has said almost it, say
see, hear, this time,
Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame
is there honor, hearing how we whistle,
here inside our logically led head, we said.
Vow not all, bind your self to truth.
Art, being thou artistic
and not good at it, or may
being my own word, lo' these decades now,
I may say I am plural me, we receive
hope from cottonwood trees, water there
being plenty good, no extra good, just enough
and enough to share,
should some hungry ghost
happen to perk our ears, hear us
as a hawk sings
in passing signaling any
with ears,
mice listen… and men acknowledge…
any attention paid is paid on recognition.
Haps as may happen every day, some to me.
Pursuing any catching my fancy nonverbal
curiosity, any chance taken, is grace at work.
By all rights, belonging to any who may hold
the very breeze of best wishes in his two hands.
And let it fly with thanks tied to its tale retold.
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 7:17 PM UTC
All day... magi logic
0n time, out of non-time, once
and once and once and once
first time last time next time
now, how useless is the time
saved with utilized patience
waiting for the starting gun,
on the dot, go.
Letters all aligned right.
Living words and idle words,
alike and not alike, active empty
I am
aware
of myself
disconnected from anything
actually otherworldly or plain
unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable.
A sense, a feeling a little message unclear,
sent from some chron job running later
------------
I have no memory of a time this is like.
I am aware other people exist without me,
knowing anything related
to you, imagined reader, entertained
held among the living by chance at tension
coherency here at once, stickiness holding
wholesale ad copy calling attentions, set
at hold on, beheld by the beholding one
enough good sense to reach out, a root
to make a way where no way was, dying
to make an otherwise dead seed feed
future creatures drawn to the shine…
sunny day, yuccas about to bloom,
candles, those are called candles
of the warden of the loaves/
h'læf-vveardon, our guard/
keeper of the grain.
Poor people real people, or rich,
all breathe the same air, and think
at once as if making time tie thoughts
where all thought
to ask… or say out loud, why are we
born on this side of that war for liberty…
come all accumulated sneezes in threes
all among us how often sneeze
in threes spirit
of just enough, yucca agave wise
Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame
O no r u a me? On or uame me me me
is it I or we who
sit and listen, and
think a name we know,\
listen if some bird has said almost it, say
see, hear, this time,
Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame
is there honor, hearing how we whistle,
here inside our logically led head, we said.
Vow not all, bind your self to truth.
Art, being thou artistic
and not good at it, or may
being my own word, lo' these decades now,
I may say I am plural me, we receive
hope from cottonwood trees, water there
being plenty good, no extra good, just enough
and enough to share,
should some hungry ghost
happen to perk our ears, hear us
as a hawk sings
in passing signaling any
with ears,
mice listen… and men acknowledge…
any attention paid is paid on recognition.
Haps as may happen every day, some to me.
Pursuing any catching my fancy nonverbal
curiosity, any chance taken, is grace at work.
By all rights, belonging to any who may hold
the very breeze of best wishes in his two hands.
And let it fly with thanks tied to its tale retold.
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