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.
Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 6:18 PM UTC
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.
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