Wrong turns, bad luck or no luck,
lucid recollections now six decades gone,

still,
points of reflection, from ruling class
reporters on what in Hell is happening,

while
time to stay one's mind upon meaning,
in the simple definitive act react act react

pneumatic logical breath in, breathe out,
distinctive other way, breath out, breathe in.

Putting first things first in picker experience,

we pick all the fruit on one tree, previous
to moving on to another tree, precious
memories, how they linger, and
with gladness flood my soul,

as gladness is our happy state, glad to say.

------------------------ trilling wohold on
on the bus, red satin black fringe, oh, my soul

Nine billion, or so

nobodies, lacking charisma
as they say, that worthiness some

seem to radiate, those affected say,
worth-shippedness certified appraisals

from conscious attenders to words, message
signaling
my start… minding my own business, changing
line upon line of nothing at all to nothing but this

my personal comfort zone, nonautomation ostent
atious waste

of whitespace, vertical panels, virtually lensing
reality, scrolled to veritable infinity
at the core of what a person is
in the common space our windows paradigm
on all time's contextual stretch of our shared sense,

our common sense, at cognate word level, basic
bottom mind sense, at cooperational deontologic

whying, when it comes to wishing others were
in some steady state afinity with me, against lying,

in wait, quietly hoping to trick before being tricked
into belief construction zones, sans hard hat or tools.

--------- Boss mind, hey
boss, Patron, se, patriotic soul man, woe, wombed
or un, man all the same kind at mind level, emotions

's where, all the difference there ever is, begins,

Genisis, to a child reared in post war anywhere,
if your mind allows empires represented by ancient
totems, rampant beasts believed to defend us, under
God,
who forbade ourkind, our unfallen, innocent spirit mind,
participation in one part of living reality, as far as we have

seen, with our Google Earth eyes, and our JWST eyes,
and our own inner eye, I am, we each know, anyway,

with knowledge now a given, a lie, all children just believe,
the first impression, what a lie does, told, and untold true,

subtler than any beast, but delicate matters, points balanced

under law, not under grace, bottom line rule for being
American to the core, where a person keeps its pride in just

being among the living, during days difficult to endure, just
if I had
known, as a spirit, what a spirit mind may imagine, as real as,

ten years, after starting to think, why am I justifying the real lie?

Genisis, seven days, was likely long told when moons were told,
shown, with story, tomorrow night, moon, you hear me, so old,
the initiation story, watch, mark this night, you here, me sold

in gratitude, in debt to more, by far, than I may think or ask,

inventers granted knowledge of wit, with which we think to ask,

what lonely God, comforted only by Wisdom and whatever spirit
is, free from mortal prejudice, paid attention to idled words spirits

sparks, from a movie about sentient machines,
and cyborgs, enhanced mortal mind wit changers
witchangers, endangered species writ remainders

woe, endure to the end, Joe, where y'gwanwidat gun inya ha'dja n
n na nanana to the when, any where any time, one wishes to ignor

all the peace we make at once, little tiny boil about to become rolling
as the latter rains arrived in my valley, today, to keep wild fires at bay,

all we know is we agreed, we sure could use some rain, amen
all we said, once is we agreed, life is different in spirit and truth,

on any given day, good gets judged, habits get checked, wishes happen,
and a men as a principle sylable, sayable spell song sung men t'al haps
men kind ness wor th a sayable
as haps may become the we
in legendary gentle peace
for no reason,
just cause

its poetic right useness

we think we
work, we think we work, we
be hum us yes humusyes we,

Ullyeseesus, amen, in spirit and truth as we may imagine

after, breath, 3 P.M. alarm, and no attached what for sense…
I know what it was for, a week ago, now it is for whatever it

interrupts… taking time to consider certain outlets, enough to

Run it up the pole, see who saluts.

I've been finding myself more
in the arms of uncertainty and nostalgia lately.
Its warmth cascades down my back
like hair made of gold and silk,
draping its familiarity over me
in the form of weary exhaustion.

And yet, when I get too close,
it holds me painfully tighter;
or pushes me away.
Forcing me to feel the dreary shiver
of winter all over again.

Perhaps this affinity surmised
was nothing more
than a suffocating disguise;
its hands holding mine
as if they were akin
to the bequeathed stars above.

I intend to abandon its presence,
as it did to mine;
but then I find it knocking
on my door once more.
And what else shall I do,
than let it in?

I keep practising,

letter by letter I read --


your body, your soul.

I love the conversations that we have.
There's no rush involved
A certain amount of logic or
Anything otherwise overbearing.
We might not say that we love each other
in the sense of coming out
& Saying the words, but
We do so in a more fun generously
Giving way.
If I ever slouch or have something
on my face you tell me in a way
that doesn't feel remedial
Or wait until I reach your train of thought,
which could otherwise
Feel embarrassing.
A mutual understanding in patience,
Filling an empty space in my bones.
The cushioning that relaxes and eases
Tension.
No matter how goofy or if we don't see
eye to eye.
You're the only woman I want
To fall asleep on, while
You fall asleep on the couch.
With three perfectly good explanations
Down the hall

the stinging settles and my heart becomes heavier,
with new lines on my soul that were probably ******* inevitable.
~when did i develop an affinity for odd numbers

There she is, standing alone,
waiting, like every day,
with me as her silent shadow.

Silver rain falls in great drops
and a cold breeze gives her shivers
causing me equal agony.

Her raven hair makes the pale skin
shine white, clean like a statue.
A sight which stops everything around.

She looks my way, giving a sign
and her scarlet lips open like flowers
seducing me, making me blush.

But fool, now she’s gone
and I stand alone, waiting,
like every day, for her return.