https://newrepublic.com/post/178321/watch-trump-missile-defense-ding-ding-ding-boom-whoosh
From the trump an uncertain sound,
a dash of madness all around,

take a little trip, but don't, don't imagine a world led by Trump
supporters who heard no uncertain sound, ding ding boom whoosh


On a scaled bell curve
from vague déjà vu to aha,

how does it feel to be asked to explain
your self warierness, knowing now Sydney
can happen, therefore, as with wherefores,
we must assume we make good on our promise,

good, the precept second to wisdom nullifying
the fear that no balanced being rolled on
in ever after each positive met its neg face to face,

pfft, that's it last time, chaos can't even be imagined,

saved in truly ancient seafoam stone, witnesses
to pacts still sticky to this days, for those in those knowns,

we imagine our attention bubble swells and pops,
and stops,
for an immeasurable period, dot, in time past, as reflection
spreading in the frequency each emanates, in sunshine
during the day time and electrically released unstickiness,

evaporative we, gaseous wedoms, as the space lacing clouds,

foam along the shore,
children finding shining things and treasuring each,
an instant few old folks live long enough
with open minds
to see that instance
of both knowing, wordless child minds
meet where the pattern
of so many beautiful spins, prove phi
solves problems pi can't imagine, umphing

being maybeing, as planned parenthood seems sound advice,
judgement begins inside your knower,
judge your own self, the one you sold to no other, you
be the only heir to all the truth you ever knew you knew,

you had been guiled, given guile
to see the leverage
in knowing, symbols enfolding instructions
to model in mortal perceptible graphic mappings

any thing, we may imagine and communicate,
we can do, may we, is upto you, your may makes
next seem
worth exploring fearlessly bold as warier than earlier
carries with it no hell to fear as possible, the attempts

to realify and profess such a good god made thing,
resulted in the currently common hormone suppressants.

One cannot hold Hell gut level true and survive the fear
such madness unleashes in laws to contain the misled minds.

Reject the chance to learn a new way of making thoughts
realizations, or
tune in, same clear text signal since texting
became the long term Turing test, which mind am I,

after following several suicides over that same jagged edge,
but with survivor kid goat-sense and higher res eyes,
a mantra from my grand pa, he sing yo ** so, say

there, from here, there is always a place to put your foot,
keep your balance,
hold your soul self, your own self we said in my clan,
hold your self to set path, or call that self the liar,
and turn around

the idea behind repentance, nothing to pay, something
to do, warier by outperience, having been imagining
running down the edge of the cliff on hind's feet,
something like this entire circumstance involving instances
in prayer,
clumping, lumping likes into wee tiny aweformers, twists
to the I in us all, we wish to be the celebrity, what's

the attraction factor, why do some mindstates demand
the murky opiated optional dream timing ding ding boom whoosh

From the trump an uncertain sound,
a dash of madness all around,

take a little trip, but don't, don't imagine a world led by Trump
supporters who heard no uncertain sound, ding ding boom whoosh

elusive
a school of silver fish in the net
all slick small enough to slip
drip through the cracks
gaps plink wriggle back
into the sea
where even the minnows swim free
so I stay on the waters and cast the nets again
and wait to haul in my next catch.

Fisherman is earth, his net is life,
Fish is Man, Ocean is heaven.
Sway by the earth, we dwell in life.
Entangle in this life, Earth is now home;
Ocean is just an illusion.
The fish move where the net moves,
The net move where the fisherman goes,
The fisherman move where the ocean drifts,
Man who dwell in life only see his net,
not both the drifting fisherman and ocean.

The heaven is far,
Yet the earth is naught.
Standing at the edge of the world
To witness the heaven and earth;
The earth is an immovable bed,
Yet heaven is a boundless net.
Alas, where my path goes,
Heaven's gaze is there.
Where my foot tread,
Earth is there.
I am simply a fish caught in a net...

I get tangled in the brooding nets of my mind
And drown

you are a fisherman's
net.  

you stretched
out
as soon
as you left my hands
to catch all the
fish you
could



and



i'm sure you did -



schools
of them.

you're very good

at catching
lots
of
fish

but



you're not so
good at
catching just

one.