Let us account our idled word,
indeed seek science...
reason debt, duty to be,
did he say. raison d' etre?
no.
he said reason debt, I heard
reason
call out debt, or was it doubt?
I heard called out,

doubt the difference a day makes

in reality,
the world of you and me,
the strangest sort of sapient beings
to ever
exist, we survived, so far… is that
reasonable?

Whom do I owe for my survival, so far?
Say you know, I'll say
mebbe so, if your ideal surviva-babble
possible ever, after,
exists,
is there a place where evil is punished,
for being known in all the common
ways we think, lies we believe,
good for nothing pure
evil, imaginary, mirror neuron firing signals
to the glands
from the guts to each
knot of knowing relaying response
to the noise - cries of havoc,
from any war fought on TV2021, the
recommending AI we love to trust,
with knowing
just
what we needed to know, to make up a mind
on matters pertaining
to you and the others who may be unaware, inactive,
untriggered by the terror,
not entertained by walking dead, but by the spirit
of the characters, or
character of the spirits, in other words, these
attention
holding cells for arrested development, idle words,
un-read, lines
unready for the dam that broke.
-live 'n'learn-
It takes more than seventy years to learn if ai
was right, when I surrendered, of my own free will,
made friends, and lovers, of
those who hated my idea,
peace, at any price.

Love your enemy - ha! Ha! Karate HA!
What fool would give ….

GAME STOP!... wow.
reason for the faith, as previously defined,
my way,
with hubris, in the face of the sharpest minds
opposing my singularity of being being
my own, in fact, my only
own thing, my own
reason to be.
- a hermit heretic idea virus  modeled
- on the good wise *** archetype,
- the guy open to the guiding mind,
- through a refined Turrets connector, receives this
- crazy message to the hero of your story

So you could read this and run on,
for a long time, knowing agottamighty in d'vita
gotcha
best interests in mind.
- iron butterfly, rusty, but for the drum solo,
- that makes a mind dance again

What can be shaken, may be shaken,
or stirred,
swirled round and round within
gravity, at the mortal scale,

one more time.

-----------------

we rarely talk about it
until we forget
hush
we rarely talk about it
until silence kills the night
hush
let’s have amnisia
everything will be fine