Remember remember
To never surrender

To fear nor grim weather
Poor down in together

Remember remember
To never surrender

To hate nor the latter
Judges who matter

Remember remember
To never surrender

To mute love tender
Ever sweet surrender

When I see the sunlight in the morning,
I am happy for everyone else,
somebody can´t sleep, is mourning,
the other one smiling in health.

The sun has a powerful force
to heal every state in our mind
and fix situations so worse,
creating all souls so kind.

But never underrestimate the moon,
powerful companion of earth,
if the morning comes, then soon
you will see it again, if you search.

Sunlight creates all shadows,
moonlight brings light in the night,
there are always smiles and sorrows,
there is always goodness and fight.

- Tarmo Selter -
2024

Your mind is somewhere else,
just wait and see,
you never can´t reverse,
who you will always be.

You just do, whatever you want,
and you never think of others,
and sometimes you really can´t
do anything, what matter.

You always think that all is yours,
what you can see around you,
there´s not enough room for love,
it´s just your ego making you a fool.

Be and love, take care of them,
you know, all comes around you
and even if you cant´t see well,
you´ll see, love is in your soul.

Be yourself, but in the good way,
don´t hurt your loved ones more,
and never let anyone say,
that you don´t deserve love.

- Tarmo Selter -
2024

the rush hour traffic
  draws  on udders of cloud
i watch  for rain

The leaves are brown
I drive along the highway
My mind focuses on the pond aside me
Evoking a feeling of worry
Drowning, opaque,
Obscuring the unknown
In the wind
Nothing but silence
Gentle melancholy

someone's home
no light, just a forlorn shining from the windows.
inaudible music plays somewhere,
it's so loud yet so silent.
it rains inside on a yet so sunny day.
someone's home, but isn't.

cold hands grasp after something warm,
they reach into thin air.
empty words align with the silence.
the clock on the wall stopped ticking as the seconds pass.
in someone's home, someone isn't home.

With linked loops across knowledge,
knowing locked in familiar settings,
holding any reader's attention,
as moments coincide,
you appear to think along as
the reader readied
through defined terms,
acknowledged truth may be projections,
backdrops, green-screened chroma keys,
filtered by ifery, pure thought, mind made
environs replat boundaries,
on multidimensional
sheered whatifications, which
start at the navel, call that the portal,
through which the egg becomes
this nexus of us, minds combined, linked
loops
across the collected knowns used to frame
this view from within these heads, hooked
at the eyes by long learned let us imagine we,

become a thread through ever, as far as we
know, we think, we say, we see, but so far, we

feel, or seem to imagine, we may imagine, we,
should we agree, mental handshake or nod wink,
to push through the veil, the imagined fifth measure,

between any now and any then,
when we seal such agreements, as warranted,
for future sanity sake, sane subjects object,

throw in the towel, never enter the fray,
but, now, we forge on, committed for the win,

our weform has ever been an entity of merest sort,
a whim, a tiny bit, fractally abstracted, thought
wise, weformed awe, right,
cothought, both minding thinking,
across mindspace,
timeless space occupied
by all the unfinished business
agreements shaken on,
begun along the way
to the edge of carnal war's finale,
ourside eliminates the other, listen, ticking,
the doomsday clock, in this crackpot realm of could be,

is set, and, for all we know today, may be counting down,
in which case, all we know now, is locked in value,

never to devalue, right or wrong, for all we know

now is the last time our we has to come to agreement,

peace, stretchers, tenter's hooks holding fabricated
locks on vast swaths of camouflaged rations, set apart,
sacred for the priests and intercessory ritual performers,

look, Spot, look,
run, Spot, run,

Inkspots, bubble up, from the times gone by,
as we hook up the old trio, shadow, echo and I,

we'll pull our reasons for being from a silk top-hat,
we'll spill the beans on Pythagorean spirit formed

norms wherewith we always circled the square,

as if we never had a clue what we were made to do,

maybe we sing, a horse clopping melody, slowing
down to turn back the clock to a novel time, long old

when we all cheered the Atom Bomb,
from a distance, and we believed Mr. Teller,
about light and human beings being both
material in vibration, and those vibrations, indeed.

Wisdom rated prophetic, unheard, silenced, let be
hindered, let be hidden as unendurable knowledge,

only after exact ritual performance, does truth speak,

breathe, commoner, breathe specialist, breathe boss,
leave be the wind in spirit form to comfort all afraid,

acknowledge luck, circumstantial evidence of grace,
as when the chain broke, and the ball rolled away,
and I was standing at the junction,

choosing a way from now on, how
all this was bound to happen eventually, as
you and I remain characters made from letters,

let be, for no particular reason, save
maybe to prevent fretting if the end is near,

a fine passtime, anti-fretting, if it is too late,
it was already and your role was either played,

or you were only simulated.

crow cries   metalling the skies
supply the greys
and hack up the winds