For gods' sake,
Life, meet Weird.
Weird is your breath
And Weird your legacy.
Alas, You can't be alive
If You don't let Weird free.

You may as well,
of course, perusal, per use usual
for us, run on
rule rocking rolled
on by in to the annals,
somewhere, I agreed
with all the rich preachers sell,
breathe,
blow it out,
feel or see, it rippled,
we passed recently
through jello time thread,
that does eventually lead
to you reading this.
That is as true as it ever wished
to be, you know,
I did this,
and it worked.
I was good
at magic tears, my granddaughter taught me,
tears for the weeping other, seen,
there, catch your

breath, the action, laughing is, does what medicines do.
Hap is an elemental idea, a basic hydrogen idea,
comparative happenstance adjust the ocular tension
in the kneck and back, happiness is
breathing, confirm,
means what my CPU dhe
say it is so in words if no other form,
there is no door to hell from here, this
is the point
of Christmas being made…
the promised message is your peace,
make it up, and make it wink, peace
in words
from whither words wisedhe we'ld enjoyed
alliterating as much as some neume harmonies insist
eeee
fa la la 'n' all… rest easy peace where you pray.

A little leaven is accounted, in breathing time,
slow nodding yes I see, so now
breathe, and think, no, it never ends, the task
is to redeem each idle word, we loose,
in these post jello time conditions,

breathe-ing, stepping back breathing, focus
attention what is a minute well spent spilling
a seasonal flow I find, since I was a child, spills

I know the joy of my garden, and I
welcome your presense, as by now, we

look at the cup from the drinker's perspective,
some cups over flow, if these were pages in any
book of life down to the first point
being wisdom prior to light, nada
time and again, OMGOMGOMGOMG

breathe out nasally in and out, stop ask
If this were a novel
a new form now utilized as by a will as old
as any, given his first taste of assisted intuition,
that's it,
qwertyguy, I sit up straight, and burp, ver-ify
virtue flows Thales knew as well as any, wi-ro

How many pages would you love to read,
what would Diogenes say?

Autolycos laughs, a little. But asks as well
his role in some stories is paid hell to know,
usefully.

Beneath the cloak of the cosmic night's embrace,
He emerged, a reaper clad in shadows profound.
A silhouette of darkness, a harbinger of fate,
He, the reaper, destined to navigate.


With a cloak that whispered tales of the unknown,
He tread the realm where love and mystery were sown.
A wraith-like figure with a scythe of steel,
Yet within the shadows, a tender allure concealed.


From the garden of hearts, he plucked love's bloom,
A reaper entwined in the dance of impending doom.
His touch, a paradox of life and demise,
Yet in his presence, love found unforeseen ties.

Cloaked in midnight's velvet, a silhouette sublime,
He moved through realms, transcending space and time.
His eyes, the void where galaxies expire,
Yet within them, a spark, an unseen fire.


For my love, he was the reaper, a paradoxical guide,
Harvesting passions, where destinies coincide.
In the tapestry of love and shadows intertwined,
He wove a tale where mortality and eternity bind.


In the graveyard of dreams, where hopes lay to rest,
He walked beside me, an enigmatic guest.
A reaper for my love, a spectral dance,
We twirled through the twilight, in a fleeting trance.

In the embrace of darkness, where whispers unfold,
He spoke of love in a language untold.
A reaper's touch, gentle and severe,
As he harvested the echoes of love and fear.


He was a reaper for my love, an ethereal waltz,
In the twilight symphony where destiny exalts.
For in the shadows, where our love did thrive,
He, the reaper, kept our immortal love alive.

Mozart makes me
feel like
I'm soaring through
cotton candy clouds of
pure joy; if joy were
fluffy and white, and
soothed every ache in
my body and mind.
Wolfie is far better
than ***** and ******.

As I lie here getting
older and closer to
death, I feel so young and
alive.  I think I could
climb a tree.