If the world ends today

Friday, January 3, 2025
2:10 PM

There is nothing
to worry about any way.
Next is set, and never misses its chance
to ever happen meaningfully
in living terms.

--------

The Grab, a documentary, very scary.

Reinforming model we form, me and you

we have this world, this life, in common,
we have no army, we have no means
no wisdom, knowledge and understanding,

to say,
hey, wait a minute, bosses of the world's

corpora, all the legal weforms, with I rights.

All legare ligamental tied node to node,

on old rules of war and conquest, ordained

say the bodies of various religious right enforcers

children reared to believe the magic, miraculous

revelation granted mystic saints visited by spirits

manifested in imaginable form, as when a child
reports a dream, in which angels look just like

the ones on the Christmas cards, and
the one on the Mormon Temple, with the last Trump

about to blow the bubble believed too sacred to pop

stop, civility, and Thumper's Daddy's Rule, calls stop,

if ya cain't say sumpin good, don't say nuthin'tall.

But, but, but, in fact, by the way, that
is not the Christian God's least favorite word,
but, I mean,
but isn't YHWH's least favorite word…

No way, I think, said as a single exclamation, way

I let be thought true, through a patient bet you made

at the title, no, is yeh, ja's favorite word. Yes,
really you feel it when you say it, right?

Yes. Slight mind smile.

If the world ends today…

what if, right? What now, do we finish
or wait, right, we all know, the world could end today,

it is not unthinkable with a little fact checking

Annie Jacobsen's Nuclear War: a scenario

whenever you realize you never really envisioned

the result of righteous reprisal America holy
exceptionalist mindform, granted the football,

at the two minute warning,
an hour and ten minutes after some witty hacker
decided to prove,

everything is 5G accessible, in the future,

If the world ends today, all the faithful trusting

prayers, may or may not be surprised

to read this on HelloPoetry, deep
in the Amazon Web Services Cloud,

assisting informing mindforms messaging

information affirmation,
state the vision,
express plainly next, from your personal
Habakkuk habit, y'know, plain make it

POV, JWST, extensions free add on,
micron and below crisp focus, via lash mite lens
over lay meditative practice,

learned during mind wandering following floaters,
wondering if those are squashed bubbles,

disc galaxies as may be conjectured using

breath and conscious true rest, con carne
means together with flesh, meat vessle,

mind form, we find ourselves, corpora in.

We may agree to think time prevents a line,
originally intended to make a mind form think

linking haps from per and may back to when

we made up our mind to participate,
in the final accounting last judgement version

of the book of life,
in virtual Read Only Memory,

for a very long time, mental rewards,
constituting the umph in triumphant minds,

inspired, filled to superfluity
with child faith truth,

… real life, did you ever witness
a second grader learning Santa is a lie?

Lo' the reason for the lie, what is that,
why… in the first place enculturate so

he-in-ous, seri ous, just in, ever extends…

--------------------
This was chapter three 2025, my POV
shared to be rethought by better thinkers

in association with retired Alta Vista Spider
Taming Retirees, living on ever after terms.

It has become a curse to remember so vividly,
those moments, simple yet profound.
Like smiles, the sound of breath, and the warmth of their palms.
Loving, I’ve realized, is often about memorizing.
Attending to every detail whenever you can.
Their presence becomes integral, no matter how scarce,
So you rely on all your senses to keep them alive.

And when it’s time to leave, everything falls silent.
The glass feels more half-empty than half full
You realize, that their absence, too, hangs in the air
A feeling you don’t just remember, but live in
And you’re left wondering,
why their absence feels more permanent.

Always be ready to say goodbye to everything,
To the comforts you outgrew, to the ache they bring.
This was the year you faced the cost of learning to love through understanding loss.
It was the year you found air and learned to breathe again,
the year you stood taller when no one else stood with you.
You dug out the rot in your mind
to make room for peace, the kind that lasts.
It was the year you learned to appreciate solitude,
to honor boundaries and protect them fiercely.
The year freedom overwhelmed you,
and you began to shape it into something meaningful.
This was the year you became tough,
the year you stood by yourself,
the year you finally understood
that saying “No” isn’t selfishness,
it’s survival, it’s self respect, it’s love.
It was a year of soft smiles shared with strangers,
of hesitant steps and uncertain moments.
But you kept walking, and somehow,
you found the door to something pure.

So here’s to the days that asked for more,
and to the little moments of 2024.

the title comes as easy as water from the tap,
the poem’s body, somehow lost in the prep,
comeback a day later, looking for total recall,
and what my mind meant, intended, by a multi-coloration

and
the notion of humility as my overarching,
modus operandi, adding a filter, that diffracts
pure light into a spectrum of primary

primaries-

building blocks of our most basic
essences; seeing the spectrum not as pieces
but as a whole body blended, a mix, oils mixed into a purified glow and see humans
in this light and only in this light
and
remaking a multi into a singularity
and
this will be my only filter for assessing
the future as far ahead as my vision will
allow

The streets are dark,
on Christmas eve;
with none to rule & conquer darkness...
Staring at an abyss...thinking there's hope,
the long Halloween's nightmare lies still...
Snow slowly stranding shadows upon such a splendid slumber - this macabre alley presumed a plain phantasm.
The scent of chestnuts...flattered nothing but a bitter sweet souvenir;
even you...resemble a phantom of grief!
That terrace taught turmoil & tragedy,
on Christmas day;
all reunited to cherish cruelty & carve out hypocrisy from honesty...

~ A. Rose

You love me
But you go to her

You need me
But not that much

Can’t take anymore
But I can’t leave

What the hell am I here again for?