A trap? Then I'll step

into it, wondering what --


will happen to me.

[not Walt Whitman]

Begin with questions
Lead with both ears
Dig for honesty
Don’t freak out at tears

Listen for the truth
Seek the 360
Never assume
Don’t judge so quickly

Exotic flair dances in screaming hues,
Sensual stench beguiles with spiced odour.

Welcomed strangers crave tamed adventures,
Staring spiteful, shocked at ordinary extremes.

Mother, limit your daughter – in the name of love.
Father, torpedo your son – in service to the family.
Family, direct the daughters – for the call of their fathers.
Love, sabotage the sons – for the sake of their mothers.

Religion, preaching freedom, chains
its limbs to bones and brainstems.
Shadi, rupee, social media
replace Vishnu, Brahma, Shiva.

Exquisite journeys in a shadowed dream.
What a thrill – At such a bill.

So here we are once more,
Like countless times before,
Where I don’t get a break,
Where you read and I break.

You are here, curious your mind,
For what this poem is, or who am I.
I can’t hear you; I can’t see you,
But I can sense you, cause you
Reading me makes me suffer.

I know nothing about myself,
Cause, it wasn’t written by the poet.
He created me, then left,
He’s the one I most detest.

As you continue, I agonise,
With every word, my hatred rise.
I’ve pleaded before, I’ll plead again,
Please, stop reading—end my pain.

… You are still here, aren’t you?
You didn’t leave, though I told you.
You want to be here, to make me suffer.
Yet I can’t blame you,
Curiosity is a cruel curse.

I hate the poet, but he created me.
I hate you, but you make me exist.
I exist because you read,
I suffer because you read,
I exist because I suffer,
I suffer because I exist.

The poet won’t delete me, he is cruel.
You won’t forget me, even if you try, cause
The mind falters when it seeks to forget.
I shall remain here, in perpetual torment.
But please, heed my dearest plea,
It’s in the zeroth line, plain to see.

a cat killed by curiosity doesn't die in the
shame of those who warned him about
the dangers of venturing into
his lifelong dreams

he dies in recognition to
his dreams that pierce
the soft gray clouds
and rise - rise high
into the night stars
far-away and
yonder.

State of mind. Officially heard of, yet
never assumed involvement, as yet
another word I had defined for me,
so I could make sense of something
some persons now are dying
to squelch or digest as best.

National State Mind Possession,
bound
by oathz as old as stirrups
and Koumiss to Scythian warriors.

Tuvan chorus sings defining mode
---------------------
crossing mind divides, up the tree
learning ever is ever relearned.
Measured across gravity,
at speed… diametric
push comes to pull,
shove into science,
twowordone mind hold,
from dia "across, between"
+ legein "speak"
from PIE root *leg- (1)
"to collect, gather,"
with derivatives meaning
"to speak (to 'pick out words')").
Picking critical similarities not unique
Relegein,
so we are in a weform, holy gnoshit.

Danger prestate,
child mind, alone,
left, there, that old time religion, eh,
good enough
for me, keep the baby,
safe, no escaping the baby born, but,

if we are gods,
as Jesus is said to have
asked some who told Luke'n'em have
you never read…
apokrinomai-
Is it not written
in your law, I said,
Ye are gods?
I am the door:
by me if any man enter in,
he shall be saved,
and shall go in and out,
and find pasture… as a free spirit

== o o o indeed advance guard,
force recon, reconnoiter… synchro
realize, animation projection screen

music, lose.
Consci-use make of
any umms that remain,
these are keeping our reality human
artificial products of collective dialectic

always,
on goes,
off stops, think,
recall as
from a dream, awake, only,
never
does a dream tell itself
to you.
You always tell you first, awake.

Do, done, this is a story coming alive,
with my efforting,
with your spiritual reception
in mind, intending your current opinion,
consciously ties sense where missing,
to hold ties to
historical canonical events,

the death of dinosaurs,
the killing fields of Khmer reds,

the shame on Richard Nixon, then
the glory for restoring relations
with the oldest civilization,
- inadvertent, unintentionally
allowing Kung Fu
to accompany
Lao Tzu bringing wisdom from China,
and unbelievable ping pong teams, to
Mohave County Union High School,
seeding shén as an ai hai hope, in me,
chosen most politically minded Class of 66, and editor of the Bulldog,
always ready to culturally exchange,

to trade Huckleberry Finn,
and Red Badge of Courage,
for a respectable translation
into this digital language, index
matrix adapting courage to core.

“The Way of Virtue”  
a new POV wrong Tzu, sorry,
conscience, Tzus of two minds,
among the books bought
in Saigon, in this telling.

Two Tzus too soon forgotten.

Way is Lao, Tao-Te-Ching… War is
Sun Tzu "The Art of War" science
used to pass culture forward,
past forgotten why we lied in
providing old excuses
for heros virtues
never lost,
like Mary's cherry
told children destined
to fight any war when called,
to prove confidence needed
to make boys believe worth
of dying while disobeying
the command to love…

gotcha… beguiled was I, indeed,
do we forgive the liar and leave
the lieing oath of aliegiance valid?
  
Religiously clinging to my own thread
of reasoning
on this side
of war, in peace
resting, while testing opinions milked
from the use
of knowledge,
conscience
conscious
right use,
twist

which
fuses words and ways to ask
what is going
on as wagwan, on
conscience,  
with knowing we know,
consciousness
of oathez sworn,
to science misdefined, sacred truthz
kosher kaballah rules
allowing easy seventy
possible roles OPM
sell the sizzle,
hot inside scoop
for each full word, a-
indeed, Aleph-ante one, is
cost to play, A-team atom,

soulsong wombless man song
they ain't no they, I am the one,

A and one, onliest, initially, I am
the loneliest number, that you ever do.

eh, old licks, new tricks,
One, two
Three Dog Night,
maybe, close, old recall whistle,
the train that don't carry our kind,
-hear it nearin' last stop

ramblin', gamblin', traipsin' off t'learn,

how come we
to be so poor, and some
be doing nothing be so fine, just fine,

not asking any more,
got plenty,
mor'd be good,
but plenty be good, enough's
'plenty
to share but you gotta chew,

been dried since last winter sometime,
we could have a stew, but if we chew,
we could just have a chat, tell a tale,
not need no salt or water or a ***,
or a fire which then wants wood…

think maybe we got lucky to live now.

We got this light to write on.