yes, it did.
Just now

right now,
the now that was a moment ago and left a mark.

Beastly meme-ish mark, a consonant glyph or a ligature,

an umph!

Right between the eyes.

right between the --- fit any jective noise ---ooof!
Umphh
ouch

eyes.

no cursem
no sworn revenge, mere wind knocked
from my sail

a seen monster blocking my sail with the shadow of his storm

Float, still as a pond on the Albatross killer's sea of green.

there never was a yellow submarine,
The one Krasner sunk in central park was fake. That was in '68.

March, maybe, ides of March keep signaling meanings
I never knew were clues.

This just happened.
I was telling a friend about the effect of seeing my first man die,
as I set the scene, March, '68…

tellin' him, it was the next day,  the next day after
we met in a chow-line at Camp Freznell Jones,

You axed, whatchewdoin here? I rolled my eyes.

You were a medic, you said if I needed
hope, you had dope…
(we had first met on the first day of first grade.)

I had shot him in the belly with a bb gun, when we were twelve.
He slugged me in the mouth for Alice Jones, when we were fifteen.
(there's a story, but it angles away from what just happened.)

We remembered a time.

March 1968, about a week after My Lai,
we were
nineteen year olds, schooled together  in good citizenship,
since we were six,
in the year 1954. when
President Eisenhauer,

personally, we heard,

had added two words,
under and God,
to the good citizen allegiance pledge
all first grade good-citizens-to-be
were learning again,

because the new pledge meant more than the old pledge had.
That had needed to be done.

Or the commies were going to get a cobalt bomb
and blow the whole world to heck.
Per Boy's Life, the scouting mag.

This was explained by the fact that there were no escapes
from prisoner of war camps in Korea,
the commies were at
war against God,

that was explained when a captured secret brainwashing plan revealed:

the lack of knowing why America was worth dying for in Korea, among
the U.N. G.I.  little brothers and younger cousins

of the greatest generation's victorious G.I.
warrior heroes, every one,
so steeped in esprit dee corp,
the ones who could would march in Parades for fifty years.

But
Those
tweener losers twixt the survivors of first
wave greatest generation warriors and  us
(Talkin' bout my generation, we didn't die before we got old),

those guys nee-cess-it-ated,

Purely from lack of knowing, never having been taught

the Uniform Code of Military Justice and that our
allegiance is and was pledged to a nation under God.

Both which were new information
maybe our moms and dads didn't know yet,
we could teach them for homework
the new pledge and ask for dimes
for the march of dimes
at the same time.

Echo
The boom of babes
just beginning citizenship training for the war
they would fight, but right,
they would know,
because the commies,
could not infiltrate our schools and teach lies…

The boom of babes
just beginning citizenship training for the war
they would fight, but right,

like all the men in town who served and survived the real war,
the world war,
not a Po-lease action,
and who,
if they were shot down (no fault of their own, ****** Red Baron)
they escaped
in movie quality dramatic ways
from prisoner of war camps in Germany,

(Not many escapes from Japanese
prisoner of war camps,
but Islands account for much of that. Sharks.)

Echo
the boom of babes
just beginning citizenship training for the war
they would fight, but right,
that boom of fresh new cannon fodder for the future,

we needed to know
we were pledging, promising to pay with our life, no lie,

I pledged, we all pledged knowing, no mistake,
God is on our side,
we are, as a nation, as a citizen of this nation,
under god.
From now on.

We all stand.

--- that was all flash back---
What just happened was Doc Musgrove stopped my tale,
my telling of the first death
I watched

He remembered
He was a medic
He cleaned the mess I watched that left this stain.
He carried the bodies.

I walked away.
Then fifty years later, I figured it wouldn't hurt to tell.
But it does.
You, generations after ours, remember war
does not make better people of good citizens who know

allegiance means allied with, not ruled by.

Liege lords are things of the past. That's why the statues always fall.

We are free because truth, when known, makes us free.
Wars make no man free.

If you can't love your enemy, that's no excuse.
Set a standard, high as you can imagine,
based on the good you know is good,

{no this is not preaching it is sharing, so you don't suffer from lack of knowing and say nobody shared what he learned after becoming the definition of a heretic.}

exercise your self, discipline your self
become a disciple of good
for goodness sake
do what you know is good
as if it were being done to you

and enemies become others who maybe
you could see things like, if

you looked from a higher plane.

Yes, I dare, I was dared. An Indian kid dared me to prove
I inherited the wind.

I’ve been hearin a lot of bad mouthin about socialism ever since the president tried to provide affordable healthcare to the working poor… I also hear some carping when someone suggested that the minimum wage paid to workers should allow them to buy the necessities of life… I don't hear too much bad things about medicare and social security…. I guess thats not really socialism…. I don't hear too much about the big bailouts of the bankers with government money after they put us in a recession… privatized gain and socialized risk must also be a strain of a special kind of entitlement...

We’ll I think this whole socialism business needs some clarity about what its all about…. so I made a list of socialist heroes so my fellow American’s can get a better feel for what going on with this red menace...

Heres a list of socialist heroes….

Jesus Christ of Nazareth...I just can't get past the Beatitudes thing. Since all the po folks of the earth get to inherit all the good stuff when they pass on.... I figure heaven gotta be some kinda socialist paradise....Some don’t buy the idea that Jesus is building a Mar-A-Largo estate for Donald Trump... while having the rest of us live in our cramped apartments…. Jesus did say he’s building many rooms but the po folks get first dibs on everything… For all the doubting Thomas’s and Thomasina’s get Sean Hannity’s fastidious fact checkers to read the good news in the Gospel of Matthew.

Jack London... To think he’s been spreading the Red Menace in the mind of America’s innocent children for near a century now…. When Michelle Bachmann finds out about this she'll introduce a bill to change the title of The Call of the Wild to the Call of the Commies... I don't think it will affect Sarahcuda because she don’t read at a sixth grade level yet. Alaska is safe for now....And all comrade citizens are doing just fine thank you.... spending their annual royalty checks they get from the state for all the North ***** oil drilling...  Hell during Sarah's half term governorship... she did what every self respecting socialist despot would do... she paid out a special $1,200.00 Permanent Fund royalty dividend to all comrade "North to the Future" citizens.....

Carl Sandburg... The People Yes? Sang the songs of the People Yes! Celebrated a broad shouldered, hog butchering America who wrote a biography with love and affection for our country’s greatest Republican President....  Whats that about?...And his treatment of Billy Sunday...a back in the day,.. aw shucks,... from the backwoods holler... Kenneth Copeland like... Believer's Voice of Victory preacher of his day... who hurled fire and brimstone at cowering congregants so when he passed the plate they filled it up with hoards of heavenly manna to fatten his bank account overstuffed with moth eaten earthly treasure… I'm sure even Pat Robertson believes Sandburg’s soul lies beyond the sweet redemption of Jesus...

George Orwell… Unlike **** Cheney... who said he had better things to do when his country called on him to serve during the Vietnam War... Orwell’s fervor for democracy was so great he left his native land to lay his life on the line to fight against the fascist menace in Spain... When he got into a battle he came across an enemy combatant taking a ****. He later said, “I let him go. How do you shoot a guy with his pants down?”... A deep respect for the humanity of others is clear evidence of a socialist's fatal flaw and why the righteous laissez faire American’s hate it so....Unfortunately Orwell and his comrades lost this one to Franco and his sugar daddies Il Duce and Mein Fuhrer… but we’ll keep up the good fight…..

Dorothy Day… This saint of the proletariat kept the soup kettle brewin to feed the working poor during the Great Depression... She spent her own money to build shelters to house catholic workers and didn't make a **** dime off the vulnerability of their screaming want... A squandered opportunity maybe…. definitely a coocoo loon according to the weltentstehung of Ayn Rand… so popular around these parts these days...but Dorothy laid up some serious dosh in heaven for her labors here on earth…. for where your treasure is…. there you will find your heart also… Anyone who knew her said Dorothy's heart was always in the right place….

Albert Einstein…. this guy was no dope….he knew enough to make make moral distinctions of exploitation and greed… and the self condemnation of conspicuous consumption...the destructive capacity of unfettered power….and worked hard to figure out equations to end the wastefulness of war... he did teach at Princeton though… more proof of the red infestation of the universities…. greed is good…. knowledge is bad….

Eugene V. Debs…. went to prison for his beliefs… got a million votes from jail… thats how devious these reds are.... even from prison they run for president and fool the working people into participating in the democratic process…. he believed everyone should vote… and would probably be imprisoned today for violating all the laws being passed that take voting rights away… gotta watch the reds…. next thing you know they'll close the electoral college and force politicians to pay a 100% poll tax on all the money they take from their corporate sponsors….

WEB DuBois… the souls of an oppressed people is the soul of a nation...ain’t it written that a nation is judged on how it treats its most vulnerable?.... Mr. DuBois fought to bring justice to all those lacking the means and rights in a nation teeming with diverse groups with needs and wants… it ain’t just about afro american jazz… its about the blues sung by all people on the outside looking in… he believed it unjust that only a small portion of American’s held the keys to the doors of prosperity… everyone should have a key to unlock the doors of opportunity… everyone…. that includes workers, immigrants, women, gay folks, religious minorities, disabled and the poor and lots other people I haven’t thought of yet…. but what about the real Americans...whose gonna stand up for them??????????

Woody Guthrie…. this country belongs to us… next time a frackin jacker comes to tear up your land and dump poison in your well… next time a strung out strip miner wants to plow away the top of your mountain and dump arsenic in your river…. next time a GMO attorney says the crops you planted don’t belong to you because they are contractually patented to him…. next time a big oil company says that they got a right to pollute the oceans and **** the fish so they can pump out a passel of fossil fuel… next time a bankster comes knocking at the door to take your house away… next time a tea slappin Teabagger starts screaming that the Koch Brothers should be allowed to own the national parks so they can cut the trees down for firewood…. tell em...you heard it on good authority…. that this land is your land…. not theirs….. if thats socialism…. I’m liken it….

American Socialists

Woody Guthrie: This Land is Your Land

Oakland
10/21/13
jbm

“the nation needs new direction...”
a talking head on television
got me saved as he began
“abandon investigations into global warming,
polar bears and orangutans,
other pseudo-scientific distractions
from proper resource extraction that could save us
from the mess we're in..”

proposing, instead, the latest in scientific experiments:
ascertaining the flavor of blue jelly beans,
or the true origin of belly button lint -
useful information for armchair navel-gazers

now I'm one of them

we want an installation of mirrors on the moon
so we can watch ghetto children clean toilets after class
as they repay their debts
for the free ketchup they get
from socialist school lunch programs
they’ll learn valuable skills for eventual careers
as lifetime sanitary engineers

our right-minded scientists are poised soon
to upend the old myth that earth is round
because out in Texas, anyone can see that it’s flat;
and monkeys be ******
none of those letters are in us,
the old book says it in black and white

but we’ve since adopted the newer testament,
improved through Ayn Rand
(an atheist...imagine that!)
The Savior is an investment banker, job creator
who kept his accounts off-shore
out of reach of commies and single mothers, the ******

we still espouse good christian values
(charity for the poor, yaddayadda)
cooking pots of pasta in church kitchens
to feed them;
God helps when they need more -
like medicine for uncontrolled diabetes -
which is when we lay-on-hands and prescribe
heavy doses of prayer
(the approach doesn't cost a cent)

after all, poverty is the neo-cardinal sin
(greed, by conservative decree, is now good),
unforgiven within gates of the convention
but we’ll guarantee a spray of white carnations
on the pine box at the altar if all else fails,
complements of the congregation...

just not for gays or lesbians ...
or loose women who seek abortions
before we have a chance to peek inside them...

we aim to reclaim freedom
(from guilt and contemplation,
cerebral things like thinking...)
take our country back from
the legions of excess population
who, by some estimations, seem a lot like us
but aren't

we’ll be winners again

Multitudes will be liberated by that recognition;
and although multitudes obtain liberation in that manner,
the number of sentient beings being great, evil karma powerful,
obscurations dense, propensities o too long standing,
the Wheel of Ignorance and Illusion becometh neither exhausted nor accelerated.

           The Tibetan Book of the Dead
          translation:  Lāma Kazi Dawa-Samdup


Free Tibet your sticker tells me…
Yes, I think, perhaps I should –
and the noble thought compels me,
uninformed, half-understood.

Will their freedom help my Karma?
Upgrade my reincarnation?
(Soul who could not dare to harm a
fly… much less a Buddhist nation.)

Not to justify aggression
by the ever-brutal Commies,
let us grant no glib concession
to the Maoists – or their mommies.

Slogans echo in the void,
shining in bardos of the dead;
stopped by the light, I am annoyed
impatient for the change from red.

A bumper crop of human woe
beams forth a mandate to my brain
while red Dakinis circle slow
in Buddhist hells of karmic pain.

The eastern concepts here diverge
and bow before brutality.
They make this driver long to merge
with incorporeality.

Then I glimpse a monkish fellow
swathed in saffron, calmly seated.
His, the cloud-borne sage’s pillow;
mine the traffic; stalled, defeated.

In his gaze of stern displeasure
I perceive the orient stars
calculating man’s mismeasure
trapped, exhausted, among the cars.

Flanked by Spirits wreathed in fire
he extends an accusing hand:
Western slave of base desire:
come and  liberate my land !”

I meditate before the stop light:
am I ready for the task ?
Should I just refuse it outright
Can’t it be someone else ?  I ask…

Must I free this mountain nation
from the Buddha, demons and Reds?
Shall your sticker’s declaration
shatter the yoke and raise their heads ?

Somebody ought to free Tibet,
and heed this Himalayan cry.
Maybe we should get upset…
The red light changes. Cars pass by,

predestined for benign events
and unconcerned for persecution;
oblivious to dissidents
awaiting execution.

these western leftist,
make us former commies...
look... really really
******* bad...

        my grandfather,
who was abandoned by his
father, spewed by the lies
of his father's brother,
found some stability
in the communist party...

sometimes did jury duty...
the communist party
gave him a house... etc. etc.,
but this, "thing" in the west?
the dissonance conundrum
of creating a collective hive?

it doesn't, and it will never work...
i already said this,
but i'll say it again...
communism does work...
but in only one instance...
post-war countries,
esp. given the plight of
Syria...
                
           it's a transitory period...
so the Syrian baker
can trust the ******* Syrian
taxi cab driver, once again...
communism is not a failure
in that it's applied as
a fail-safe concept,
a rebuilding mechanism,
  
like Poland... 1945...
through to circa 1990...
    it worked...
  **** it worked...
  eastern Europe didn't
receive funds from the American
Marshall Plan...

but Sweden and Switzerland
did...
   i thought they were neutral
countries in the conflict?

communism is a failure if its not
considered a recovery economy,
or rather:
    there's no or other at this point...

in post-war scenarios,
it's the only egalitarianism that works
in the short-end...
this is not English style of
egalitarian idealism...
   (a term i borrow from German
idealism of Kant)...
            no... the English don't know
that their egalitarian idealism
doesn't work...
it's too soft...
the war was harsh...
you're not going to rebuild
the same civic plateau with capitalism,
of a country that was either:
invaded by a foreign power,
or imploded into chaos via
a breach of ethnic-civility...

you can't rebuild Syria with
foreign intervention...
communism is far from a failure
of ideology...
   it was always supposed
to instigate a transitional
period, a post-scriptum...
   a communism can exist,
successfully, for... roughly 50 years...
once the tragedy passes...

and then the free markets can
take over, capitalism can have its
"stage fright", or rather its
wild west...
            but not before the circa 50
years are over...
  a Syrian baker,
   must begin a civil dialectic with
a Syrian taxi driver...
no amount of foreign intervention
will solve the problem...

it's not like you can reuse
the rubble to rebuild the same houses...
sure... the darkest hour
in Poland under communism was
when martial law (stan wojenny)
was implemented by
Wojciech Jaruzelski
(Roy Orbison, no, really,
Roy Orbison)...
food-stamps, long queues at supermarkets
rationing... only white vinegar on
the shelves of supermarkets...
the whole presupposition of war
against the Soviets,
  counter measures to
      avoid the instances of
the Hungarian / Czechoslovakian
occupation / suppression...
   the Parisian spirit of '68...
every time i look into your loving eyes,
one look, from you,
  i drift... away!
    i pray, that you, are here, to stay!
anything you want, you got it...
anything you need, you got it...
anything at all, you got it...
   bay.................................. be!

western Europe received pittance
pay-checks from H'america...
eastern Europe received the hard graft of
communism...
             and it worked...
because it was supposed to work
for the 50 or so years that it did work...
when it stopped working...
my home town lost roughly 20K
   metalwork jobs...
  the metalwork factory was scrapped,
cut up, sold to foreign investors...
Celsa? i believe that's a Spanish company...

some people grew old, retired,
some went on the dole,
some became homeless,
some migrated to other parts of the country,
otherwise took the bold route
and emigrated to other parts of
Europe and the world...
a town dies, the people disperse
if in a dispersing worthy age...

     but i turn on the tube...
and listen to all these leftist lunatics,
and i'm like...          what?!
communism works,
   it works, in exceptional circumstances,
and like i said, before an equal
footing competition market resurfaces,
you're getting ****...
             this is not to suggest that
communism is at odds with capitalism...
apparently... it never was!

         but... you can't rebuild
Syria with capitalism...
  first you have to return to a commonly
shared civility, a counter to what
already exists in the English egalitarian idealism...
best represented as:

a 200m race at the Olympics...
all the competitors walk an equal
pace for 100m...
        and the next 100m?
they do their sprint, they compete!
but not until communism creates
a basis for a mutual trust of civility
between a Syrian baker,
and a Syrian taxi driver...

      capitalism and outright
competition will never solve the problem...
because outright competition
creates nothing more than
an dystopian: post-apocalyptic
mad max: fury road endless cycle of
recurring opportunists...

scavengers...
                      it works... in periods of
roughly 50 years...
what... and capitalism isn't prone
to its own timescales of economic crashes?!
see...
             even capitalism has hiccups...
but like i said:
    communism works...
for time periods, post-scriptum of
the damaging events...
                        under exceptional circumstances
of it being necessarily implemented...
like world war II... the Syrian civil war;
and only then!

****... my grandfather and all the other
school children, actually cried
when news hit the country about Stalin's death...
i have access to an actual ****** source,
what do you have?
  a target of ridicule,
        donning a che guevara t-shirt
who still hasn't rid himself of acne?

A fresh page,  
Ripe to ****,  
To fill with  
Thoughts, emotions, rage  

A lot of poets  
are egotistical wankers  
who think they  
can write,  
but can't.  

I hate reading poetry,  
I love my poetry,  
Am I a narcissist?  
I hope not.  
I don't like narcissists.  

I can't write,  
What am I thinking?  
'Sometimes life is not a  
Cake walk served up  
On a silver spoon'  
Don't write poetry, Josh.  
You can't do it...  

I'm not a poet.  
I listen to baby  
**** metal and  
Watch My  
Little Pony -  
I have long hair and  
I like rainbows.  

The sticky-note on  
my wall says:  
"Bah! Stanzas!"  
Another one says  
"Welcome to the  
Honorary Magical  
Unicorn Squad"  
So....  

I started writing  
with intent,  
I defenestrated it,  
though...  
It is on the ground  
outside my window.  
I should go pick it up.  
I mean...  
It is cold outside.  

I don't know...  
Sometimes...  
You just have to  
let intent die and  
go with words  
that don't rhyme  
and express emotion,  

I'm not poetrying,  
right now.  
I'm talking to a  
red notebook, with  
thoughts reading  
'I must show this to  
my brother and post  
this on a site with
people I don't know  
that will hopefully  
'upvote' my poem'  
It feels good  
not to be deep,  
To just turn my  
brain off and  
Write because what  
the **** else am  I
gonna do at  
3'o'clock in the morning  
on Sunday.  

I'm a 13 year  
old boy, I probably  
will be whisked off  
to church with my  
mother at 7 am.  
I have a party  
today I need  
to go to.  

The boy I have  
a crush on will be  
there, and so will  
alcohol, so you  
know what that means.  

Oh god,  
That sound manipulative...  
What the ****, Josh.  

Today I wrote  
something that was  
a couple tiers above  
Infant Annihilator lyrics.  
About ****** newborns,  
Why didn't I  
Cry?  

I described very  
vividly what I thought  
would happen in that  
situation with  
everything too,  
Including the baby's  
internal organs,  

I don't like my  
thoughts  
I'm a coltcuddler,  
I'm a furry  
I think about  
My Little Pony and  
Asian businessmen  
who teleport instead  
of taking the bus to  
work.

My friend went  
to the school  
dance as Gamzee  
Or someone else.  
She's in some weird  
fandom... But I can't judge.  
I went as a rainbow  

I can't come out as  
Bisexual her or else  
some **** redneck  
kid will want my  
*** and head  
on a post on his lawn  

******* Josh...  
Why couldn't you  
have been born  
a bisexual girl...  
Everyone likes  
bisexual girls.  

Don't tell anyone...  
But I like the  
way I look when  
I'm dressed as a  
girl. I'm being  
a drag queen for  
Halloween, and my  
friend, Kady, did my  
makeup for practice.  
I am beautiful as a girl.

There's this boy  
In the high school  
who dresses up as  
a girl, but isn't gay.
His name is 'Kailee'  
He is beautiful.

They played 'Come on Eileen'  
at the school dance. Kady  
and her friend, Trinity, were  
doing the Patrick and Sam  
dance from 'The Perks Of Being  
a Wallflower' I was supposed  
to be charlie but  
they stopped the music  
before I was supposed  
to come in...  
**** Commies...  

Some of you have  
stopped reading.  
Some at 'Baby ****'  
Some at 13 year old boy'  
Some at 'Boy I have
a crush'  
**** everyone who  
stop reading  

Josh  
You shouldn't *******.  
Josh  
You shouldn't read ****.  
Josh  
You should stop being  
such a little whiny  
pathetic brat.  
I hate myself  

"Give up on your  
dreams, kiddo,"  
"But...no..."  
Don't hang in there.  
*******.  
****.  
Yourself.  
You stupid ****.  

Y'no  
I want to write a book,  
Call it 'The Raft'  
About a girl  
named 'V' and  
a boy named  
Isaac  

Isaac is a real person.  
I loved him.  
He didn't love me.  
I cried.  
He didn't comfort me,  
though  
He was home  
I was home  
It was 11 at  
night on a  
school night.  

Y'no,  
I read a lot of  
gay ****.  
The best  
story was  
a scotch on the rocks.  
Scotch blows,  
Gets ******,  
*****,  
And gets a boyfriend.  

I want a boyfriend,  
I just don't think  
Austin is gay or  
bisexual.  
I hope he is...

At dinner, Zach asks
about our nation's history, wars.
I say We're taking on everyone, one at a time.

First Britain, then Britain again: "He was the surly English pluck, and
      there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be."
Next Mexico: "Death is indifferent to what hide he tans; life crushes
      men like flies."
The War Between the States: "Well done, Mr. Cromartie. Time now
      for rest."

Most of Latin America: "Not only humans longed for liberation. All
      ecology groaned for it too. The revolution is also one of lakes,
      rivers, trees, animals."
Then Southeast Asia: "The slight bump the mortars make as they kiss
      the tube goodbye. Then the furious rain, a fist driving home the
      message: Boy, you don't belong here."
Now the Middle East: "A land to be admired like all lands. Harsh
      mountains and deserts, indigenous plants and people, adapted
      ungulates, carnivorous mammals."

Can't forget the Krauts & Nips: "Then I heard the bomber call me in:
      Little Friend, Little Friend, I got two engines on fire. Can you see
      me, Little Friend?"
Nor the Commies: "You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the
      beginning of a new one. I put this book here for you, who once
      lived, so that you should visit us no more."
The original indigenous people say: "In time we'll become prosperous,
      or else we'll become martyrs. The force that placed us here cannot
      be trusted."

So Chinaski took down Hem,
eh Buk?
I could take your cardboard mask
anyday
because i know he's more of a paper tiger
than the commies hoped america would be.

I'm crazier than you
and i'm willing to bet
my pecker against yours;
if you win
i'll chop it off with a rusty cleaver
and we can braid eachother's hair
while we tape my pecker onto the tip of yours
and spray silly string and ***** into my wound.

So what you got?
Huh? How crazy can you get?

After all,
i think you died naturally.
I still got time in these bones
to walk onto campus with
a gallon of gas
and a pack of menthol cigarettes,
asking to *** a lighter.

How crazy
have they become?
And how crazy do you think
it will make me?

Santa Claus
is subscribed to Hello
Poetry and writing under
a pseudonym, Poem Hunter
has been trying to ******
some of our contributors
away from this site with
false promises of popularity
and cheap Chinese gifts at
Christmas but in case you
are not aware, this a Russian
ploy, the red's are commies,
Rudolf's nose is a metaphor!

obviously with a grounding in chemistry, i'd elevate myself to the only scientific humanism in existence, philosophy, and thus cling to an atomists' interpretation of words... a tier higher? let's just call that a kabbalistic venture... the tetragrammaton can replace the linguistic alphabet; basis: alphabetically you say A... but when you reach a moment of prior to unknown but revealed appreciation for a fact, you express awe, via ah...

and how many brain-cells died
and how much memory has become
eroded by the fallacy of
learning the alphabet?
              not the clear indicator
of numbers based upon evens & odds
interchange -
       so why randomly position
the vowels?
    why not state the five elements
first? a, e, i, o, u
and move toward the 21 pillars
of consonants: b, c, d, f, g, h, j... ? ? ?

re.: aphorism 50, ponderings V.

by being
                 vs.
                         in being
vs.
         being of-itself

             being-of-itself (source,
  direction, vector, cause, motive,
reason) - correlated similis via *by...

   v.s being off-itself
   ( no longer enclosing,
          not supported or attached,
       away from origin
     i.e. coordinates of
   the triple negation: )0,0,0( )
  i.e. in-being -
   a self-serving (per se) manifestation
                         of change, or flux.

aus - off
   von - of
                durch - by
    im - in

    da-mit-sein:

                a purpose!

da-sein merely states:
   there's being (da ist sein)!
  actuality...

      ist da sein?! (is there being?)
   potential...

that's self-evident
   or anti-purposive in observation...

revision:

loss of article, means sharpening
the meaning (enforcing the locus):

   but the "locality" has to change
for the loss of articles - i.e.

hier-mit-sein -
  the loss of ein - the finis abstractus:
the end of abstracting -
   morph the article into a prefix
i.e. a becomes a-,
   and you're left without either
a there or a being to consider...

   ein-da-mit-sein: a there with being -
well, to forget the article,
    hier-mit-sein:
                     meaning?
   (i'm) here, with (a) purpose...

               hic sum, *** id est
  (the maxim to represent esse / being)

it has a purpose, and i have a purpose
to match its purpose of
      watching the spring exfoliation
of the per se...

and what a fetish for speaking german
            i have gathered,
ask the commies...
   they'll tell you that simply
speaking german you're somehow a fascist.

a- (without)
       ex- (out of) -
            out of every instance -
   a monism of:

poetic sketches are the supreme form
of dissociation,
   words become syllables,
while syllables become prefixes and suffixes
and affixes:

              the unison:
           a- without the monistic unison
of the omni,       namely?
   disharmony of free wills -
    
                          a- omni ex- "dictum"...

what the ancient spoke of in terms
of being as λoγoς -
refers to a temporal realm...
what evolved?
   with mass communication
  and the generally perceived electric
spider-web?
             well... the hands of power
had to change, from the greek
λoγoς, to the roman λoκυς -
enforced by heidegger's dasein...

     the locus vs. the logos...

if there is a vs. to begin with.

  hier-durch-sein
   (here, by being)
                da-durch-nicht-sein
              (there, by not being)

does this no answer einstein's mathematics
if no numbers are to be used?
       the space-time debacle?

    already philosophy has become
closely realised in quanta of the tongue
either talking, or silent...

   and if kant "allowed" for the tragedy
of von kleist and nietzsche,
   then heidegger reaped from the ashes
of hœlderlin (variation of original
umlaut ö) - the gold-standard of
enforcing the end of the war of civility
between philosophers and poets
began by plato...
                             ending with a:
reminder of the original enemy,
namely the sophists, by zeitnahweise
also called rhetoricians;
as said, for all who care to think,
              they'll be found chewing gum
and having a hard time speaking...
thinking really does, mute if not
simply obstruct the mouth from speaking.

why do you think i "*****" heidegger's
concept of dasein?
    the hyphen and the italics...
   it came down to style, and how "confusing"
it became...
      i had to explore the temporal
   dimension with the spatial originality...
otherwise known as
     the disconcerted attitude of popular
                   literature, namely journalism.