To have this ability
                to use these words
Brain's thoughts glued to paper like chords

I can only imagine
                deep in the past
Ancient men glued to their own heads

I am free to articulate
                Say it, even scream
Better do it silently others can understand me

To hear you speak
                to hear your soul
Delights my heart with a ravenous howl

Some may say law
                 Medicine, even football
Though I say language's the best invention of all.

Disorder, chaos and I,
had a line in a story,
a didactic novel,
we aspired to emulate,
the reaction to dire straits,
the experience, not the band.
As seen on TV, Champions of us.

But, not me, for some reason,
I've begun to think, I made a choice,

but, odds are, I could not help becoming
thus enabled. Alive. Beyond the grand lie.

The Bible. Yep. And all the Creeds
accredited as bonds for Christ,
in the battle for more, what?,
more time to be, surety for strangers?

free to be useless, unless this, ah, caveat
imagine
magic,
ritual reenactments, mental sets, props, stored

properly folded and stacked, each act, a lesson,
each season
a new song, a new dance, each season
more is grown known, each year
each day
each instance stretched to hold a moment, ment
-already
known
re-coknown

feels like happy would feel, if haps were
becoming more regular,
fewer total awe, as a we forms on a point,
over decades, this new medium,
you read it and say hey you'ld
do well to think how peace
is said to be a mortal gift,
you can make it,
where none is,
no life debt due, that's grace

dealing with dying, and rebirth
with a new core processing unit,
a new heart of flesh, not OT desperately
wicked old heart
of flawed mankind,
no more of that
in the chosen,
called, perhaps, yes, drawn,
to the emptiness, Sartre,
passed, sixty years ago,

fretting for the lie believers, I asked
what good could I do, if I popped
the fear of God is the beginning
of Wisdom
riddle?  
Yada, knowing, yada, mock all you think,
knowing is what makes rich men rich,
and no sorrows with it.
The point. Nobody is sorry for you,
so God makes hell?

Knowing one's measure,
how long have you left to prove
what? To prove I can live to 100,
happily, I'll try.

But I feel it wrong to swear an oath works,
but for long set locks
on the citizen status,
born free,
ah,
not same as free, by right, by being alive?
- seems same t'me, as an earthling.
Who wars with me, at my age, nobody,
but I am a non participant entity
in the life around me.
Or not.
Why could I not cash out. No cash in. True,
to form, what makes a work
of wordwork worth
a load that could buy a house, a load
is beyond me,
I always, mostly read books
from the library, free,
for my attention
I pay all the attention I have available,
but I have not bought
an unused book,
in years. Freely sent signals preach old laws.
THUD.
ha ha hee, on the echoing green
-----
If I have not written a million words,
each year, since, 2016, I have read/heard
that many, easily, seven big books is a Proust load.
That's a measure for more than a million words,
a Proust load. Pl. Place, AI aha, is being becoming/\?
- you read more than seven big books each year?
Savvy, right, becoming savvy, finding worth,
more than flashes in the pan,
real time spent redeemed,
all, most, instant recollection,
full day pay for one final hour…
this is what I wait all day for, and it flows,
and this flow offers hope, for surity sake,
confidence is its own evidence,
true or false. You know
what you hope for
if I died, it is not as if the mind,
lost first judgement
at the treasure chest rights
to fashion sense and proper up-brangin'

what would a word of advice from a website prove?

Make up a wise grandma,
and call her your faircall godmother,
think of her your guardian messenger app,

like a guardian angel, if angels were messages
in the eternal spirit realm, like email now, piling up
in the eternal spirit realm, common, not set aside,
holy spirit realm, just regular, spirit common
spirits, do not die.
Ah. Good point. Didact, first act, curtain falls.

Handing out wings

like they were portions of God

this narrow asphalt

made by architects of tourism

movers of time and space

reaching out like insane astronauts or genius heretics

breathing our iodine

becoming halogens

the sky moves sideways

dystrophic airwaves

feeble beacons

eerie radio silence

here come more perils from the sky

The sky is an artistic graveyard.

Many a hero and many a fool have come to their fate in its wave-driven clutches.

The number of syllables required to storybook danger is as dense as ozone.

The orange layer—a warning sign, posted by the forebearers of fun, who were categorically undone by the very forces they worshipped.

Birds no better than to fly at such temperamental altitudes.

But the dream will die if we don't try.

And so we hoist our ambition like a kite, hoping to stay aloft long enough to discover something more about ourselves.

The rose in front of me
often seems like is
the cherry picked one
treasured in the most epic hunt.

Down the blue sky
the clouds get clear over time
and the truth shows up:
It’s no invention.
A made in heaven pair found on Earth!

I'm always riding on knowledge or wondering why I really need it, why I should acquire it.
I repent for questioning why I need it.
Then I rebel in questioning why I need it.
Learning a lot of math without doing problems is like receiving a lot of instructions before trying to carry them all out.
In this sense inventing new math is the same condition as creating a company.
But the question remains: what service can I provide that current math cannot provide?
In my search, it borders on believing a formula can actually solve something without observing it in reality.
This would create a break between the real world and the world of the mind - the mind taking precidence.
Math here would become a novelty much like so many services today.
The mind without the universe is a novelty.
It would see the parts of the universe that were not seen as novel, now become novel themselves.
It would have to entice people to use this novelty, either in thought, word, or practice.
Therefore inventing math is just like salesmanship.
What can I sell the (parts of) universe off to you as?
Life revolves around water, food, clothing, shelter, and some type of computer.
But the universe centers on matter, light, and space.
Chemistry and quantum physics tells me of matter.
Electrodynamics tells me of light.
General relativity and the positive Grassmannian tells me of space.
To out sell these five monopolies I would have to come up with something great.
It is due to mathematicians' and scientists' observations that these monopolies are so powerful.
So much has been observed that it's hard to observe anything apart from them, or to even put them out of my mind.
Let's say I had gone through all the pedagogy, would I just become more satisfied with what already is, just as I've abandoned inventions of electronics after getting the degree and three years of self-study?
Now formally believing that electronics is too complicated to entertain a "new electrodynamics".
"New electrodynamics" becoming a watchword for the novice.
Wouldn't "new physics" or "new math" also seem similar after all is said and done?
But inventions usually come about by people using or doing something and figuring out a better way to do them.
Not by thinking about something until there is a better way to think about something.
Electronics became devoid of hope for change because what I already knew of it became so central to the world and yet still so awesome.
When my rank depends on a system, their is little impetus to change it.
Therefore, my dependence on innovation seems to depend on holding no rank in math and physics.
As one songwriter said, "If you have to or try to write a song, it will be crap, but if a song comes to you, it could be really good."
The same applies to "inventions" in STEM, despite what years of hard work has proven, it is always the truly inspired ones that make the new vision.
I feel my burden is lifted.

There must be no other way than approaching a math problem without notes.
Going into it with only the last few pages of work, which probably doesn't even give the answer.

What I envy is having one problem that a mathematician wishes to work on, and doesn't give up until she has exasperated every nook.
For me, that problem would have to so boggle the mind that it would seem like I would have to invent something just to make it work.
No, I'm not one to finish calculating a list of unknowns to come up with a super-law.
No, I'm one to invent from nothing.
Challenge authority.
I say I can prove that a tangent plane can intersect a sphere in two points.
It seems silly, but think what a new math could do!
I must use all my psychic powers to do so, but don't tell anyone, just between me and you.
Think of the possibilities!

Built from scraps of the past
Fastened together by screws
Made to love and be loved
Made possible by programmed heart
A beautiful maiden in metallic gray
A reflection of a lost love

She opens her eyes and silently
Caresses his face so warm yet weary
Then hugged him as she wiped his tears
The same reason that made him fall in love
Yet the same reason why something's missing

He can't bring back the dead and the past
Forever lost in the void, never to be seen
To live and move on, to carry on the present
He cried and cried harder than she wiped
As oil flows down her eyes