Time taken to imagine thinking like Jesus,
when someone heard him say something,
like this, in passing, whatsoever whosover
agrees to believe that we can do together,

well,
if we ever get together, we can plan on it,
like, how does it feel to be in spirit form,

we might ask Jesus's father, who he says
is always with him, as he is, as a man, mortal,
alla time, you hear it, God is a spirit, a optional
the often is assumed the more comprehensive
truth in deed, the act of using the wisdom left,
the spirit then extrapolates to all that ever is

after somebody told somebody Paul said
Jesus uses the ***** but it gets stars on HP,
can think starry words, but don't write em.
ghucking phonics laws of social order,
ways around unreasonable fears of dirt,
free press has its perks, nobody pays me
for your attention to their ads, makes me

wonder,
how do ads make money, from peripheral
attention, paid in passing, oh yeh, nikes,
see the logo, hooks the kid, it does,
see the logos every where we look,
invincible ignorance, never thinking,
convincingly enough the idea, as in
adultery, done in one's core as is me,
we may recollect every aspect of now,

the perp was wearing Nike knock offs,
too new for the Nineties vibe, we knew,

due to those shoes were my shoes, word,\

fake news, those are new new acting old.
SAW stories, sacred ancient wisdom,
nike was not a god, but a power,
to make believe, we ran the fastest race.

Broke a sweat. Thinking the thought counts.

Patina, intensity of existance in Earthian air,
all things grow here, and growing is getting old,
dissipating losing isotopes a tic at a time,
lighter and lighter being,

enough to fade away, through all those old lies,
my love don't fffade away, we roll our rocks, we

live to learn forever, first best deal ever, we say
okeh, teach me, ah, autistmatic on
curios use, wise, aha automatic gotitinit go to…
basic
we may infer is the highest use, initial use, some
think, wisdom is the pastless point of no return,
once the spider impresses on your child mind,
-Alte Vista never recalled their spiders,
do not believe you are ever alone,
believe we keep ourselves sane,

some days, plans shift, you had time, I didn't,
so we had the exchange of hearts ceremony,

prepaid attention to details used to confound
the wicked, tell me quickly, is deception ever

really easy to learn to do, to make one think
this and that seem familiar enough to be one

idea, in guise, not a body, an external form,
appearing as apparitions are wont, as femforms,
wisdom's free play children's rooms,
infested with
sprites and nyadds and nymphs and such,
virgins, ah, we all know of such roles, yet,
wise, once, such were never so imagined,
not even
really, prior to Epstein, the island one, we
did not experience those old demons work,
as priestly oath bindings used on battle fields

all the old lies sold
for power work today,
they are knowledge, ra' difficult to master,
by the way, this is one of those days,
unforsaken, patiently proceeding to perfect.
oo..
magic, some say, knowing the cost of learning,
endlessly, efforting to tame the lust of craving.

Sweets, dainties of kings since the days
when dates and raisons and honey sweetened
- cost of business among traveling road shows
- to witness the ancient ritual dance
- of seven veils…  our grandchildren laugh/

the mingled wines afforded the children crossing,
lines of responsibility and redemptive worth accrual,

no longer precious to any who see thee,
no longer innocent chorus for the prophets, listen

when we make up a mind to do something, when
did we first know that knack, will to do, will to try,
- little short attention spans all dancing
- in the dark
will to admit the price higher than reasonable,
will to pay it because, higher provides servants,
- little short attention spans all dancing
- in the dark

with experience, often challenged, never doubted,
for what that's worth,
the winner always turns the cheek.

The post reality madness never sets in,
those with this time taken as used
to read the rantings
of a spirit, unrestrained,
laughing at waking
in the future of a plan,
I married the bride of my happy old age,
unashamed, besmirched with guile for denying clues,

found in open spaces and wild places, once investigated,

NAND gates permit second thoughts,
once what if
becomes logos, original mention,
truth's wise construct-
ion...
all things are made
by this logos, words, instructing
precepts conducive to order of usage,
heavy mole measures  
atomic weights on balance scales, heavy
Daltons or AMUs, used to ignite the core of suns,
indeed, on our grandest news attending we filter, we
become the light of this world, for a second,
or Pico second.
or so never again allowing children grown crazy
under constant threat of thermo- fusion nukes, suns
in bombs glare we could see
from the Cerbats, easy,
any minute, Armegeddon,
no, those were lies,
insane use
of nuclear energy was never blamed
on Truth, not on any oath's threat,
under sworn oath to obey the authority
as you cruise 20,000,000 leagues
at launch depth, year after year, no internet,
focus on about 10 thousand neighbor hoods, any one
near you, or so far you never imagined they had nukes,
we can respond, even if hell breaks loose, we payback
all those powerful enemies of truth itself, united, in war,
war is one god, no god's servile beast, war  is chaos guise,

those who never fear death or post death retribution,
no dogma can leash such minds, ever free, imaginable…

we make peace with knowing that.
We live as if my next has happened by the time you could
have read my mind and found this same stream, a trickle.

Happy ever after is a temporary state, we die anyway.

G♾D

Where the olives and ego were pressed
Three brethren fell into a rest
At a crossroads inside
He was forced to decide
In the garden where Christ took his test

i got hit with the true reality the other day,
and the reality always hurts.
the reality that sometimes things don't go your way,
and sometimes the person you thought God made for you was made for someone else.
and it's hard to understand that,
its hard to understand that you are not ment for them.
it's hard to understand that some things that some things that you wished were ment to be arn't.
and every song you sent to them,
every song they sent to you,
it'll remind you of them.
thats the true reality.
but there will be a time of all of Jesus's healings will finally heal you whole.
there will come a time where you will hear that song on the radio,
and think,
hey thats a good song,
and not start crying to the beat of it.
there will come a time when you won't beat yourself over what you could've done differently that would change the way he feels about you.
Some things arn't ment to be permanent,
thats the true reality.

I wonder what Jesus would say,
If he found out today,
That the cross, where he hung, torn and bruised,
Has become our most sacred jewel.

Would he gaze at the wood with surprise,
See his pain in our reverent eyes?
Would he question the meaning we found,
In a tool meant to press him down?

The nails that pierced through his skin,
The crown that dug deep within.
A death we immortalize in form,
But forget it was born in the storm.

I wonder, would he smile or weep,
At this symbol we carry so deep.
And ask if we’ve missed the point,
Where flesh met iron, and faith disjoint?

Would he ask why we cling so tight,
To the image of his final night?
Why we exalt the end of his breath,
And make a monument of death?

Is this the legacy he would choose—
A symbol of all that he’d lose?
Does eternity shrink or expand,
With a cross gripped in every hand?

I wonder if he’d feel estranged,
From the meaning we’ve rearranged—
To worship the gallows, the nails, the pain,
And not the life that rose again.

Jesus came one day
to decapitated me
and said, "You need
to run the race and win."

"Okay," I said,
"I'll try if you
put me
back together."

He acted
like he didn't hear me
and left
without saying goodbye.

"Thanks for nothing!"
I yelled at his absence.