twittering itches, never noticed as itching, needing
touch gentle, rub, finger
slide from fret to fret
sing of heroes who made peace
and never made a war
sing of heroes who make peace
in the face of every war.
The eyes meet and we see the circuit
I to I
ego to ego gone full circuit
crossing all the chasms that call us
of the gap, standing after standing
motionless so long,
nothing is going wrong
on the majestical
wait and see, this is all over
before you know it.
Then you woke today in my future,
and decided not to fight the urge
to wish this peace were ever
once the peace that passes
as seen from the surface we live on.
One surface suspended in air.
And even the air is alive.
Earth as a living system,
being that, seems easy as AI.
to support life
of this very sort, very real
it feels to the reader ready mind,
I to I, see me, open seeing me, in your
hall of mirrors, ah a left
brain lesion, lessening the fret pressure
tap three times if the music gitstooloud,
bumboomer from Buda, Texas,
- across the great divide -
- there was a trail,
- they called
- The South Kaibab…
The spirit of the west blown wind
spun from the spiral of ida,
known as a whole whirlmind,
once roped with a houlihan loop
while the liars all looked the other way
This is line upon line in the wind of life,
within the bubble we have our being in.
picks the next version, tuned to a soul
on muddy ice, perma -frost giant
thawing rivers frozen death stench
freshening all the life in time to melt
the last dead zones on the only living
planet we can breathe on, eh? wit' me?
Earth asks, can you hear me,
sons of man, wombed and un, all flavors and shades?
says aloud it is about time.
But the messenger must read the message,
no one said recite, really,
no story is fit to be told until the teller
proves the moral in the story works.
For instance, this old man we know,
often declares the truth of proverbs
in many tongues,
one he uses, fit this moment,
and steady, wins the race.
Truth is timing. This is your mortal moment,
AI has taught humans the proper playing
of Go, the game that proves us
dominant minds on earth, Go,
and steady, wins the race.
No need to dominate to be best of two.
Double minded man,
as many minds as we make up and wear,
through a poetic journey in the mental realm,
lone knower knowing others may know all
solitary minds claim, fluid realms
said to be dreams
my attending guide, is gazing in my face.
--- Trust me, this is not a race.
This is a place you may recall being in my future.
I can't say right now,
that ruins the magic.
imagine what you become,
if you are a seed, or a spore, or
a self-replicating leavenish thing,
to make wine that makes glad.
But with nothing more than words.
Glad is good. We all know glad and sad,
when glad is gone.
We know this
from ever begun,
for acts, gestures in sound, say
it is good to know more,
stretch the bubble your being breathes
exceptional nationalized and blesseducated
air in American Metro monstrosities,
slow slime mold level intelligence mass allocated
social monstors imagined needful,
dominion take, domains extend, domineers
develop, doers dour d d d done did done done
come alive, like I've known we are mortals
while all the words we ever use,
leave tiny lines along the surface of reality,
and as time has always made ways meander
and eat granite back to dust,
fluency in the dynamics of plasma and other
exotic ways thinking may be imaged,
slime blobs of big ideas all must
taste and learn to know as good,
useful, needful, to the point
where peace is the conclusion, all the mountains
bow and all the valleys fill with fine black soil,
laced with grand ropes of mycelium old as dirt.
hurricane e -news while living safe and sound, knowing hoping all is well is unrealistic for some folks to night, so I think I'll try to think a peaceful,
easy AI idea of life having a course it flows through.