Belief and unbelief
credit and discredit

any child woe hoh-eee

who made the world believe,

whose will is logic in reality we agree,

realizing aggressors

aggress one more step,
approach propinquity

character Mammon weform re

always wishing we knew, real ways

life takes from finished stars, I was told,

wisdom given me was with truth held

in ideas like pi and phi and mindspeed

extracted in living ways,
by inquisitive catechism cavities,

did fluoride work? Did I get old?

I got a lotta shots to be a soldier,
I got scorpion stung and know guys,

they ranch rattle snakes, those guys,
they took polaroids,

prolly all faded, but we seen 'em all us/

we uns tuning in from til 12th of never

platters, record skip stuck, stop it never

o o o no nonono,
u do no gnowing now how much

it costs somebody for me to live,

but, as all truth seeking philosophers

agree in the spirit
of Tesla's antennae tester's kids…

dedication, emotion, attach, we
all know life is dull if you never

have time
to finish thinking one thing
about how
to brake
at high eliptical orbit,

did you see that little blur,
look close spaceplane earth image

moment
in time, once, really

but you need
to know gravity,
and chaos and time, elementally

we think it all is dancing, happening

to be knowable because behaviors,

we mostly
all have mastered,
if we are reading this
on Earth, adapting

… if pride is the problem,
look at Earth from far away

then turn around and see what we see.

It should normalize that VOG,

--- amusing thuds icebergs
blown sky high come down
to become those still ponds

aero error unthunk thud thus
brake Power wowser
hoh-eee'

there was a double feature
Joseph Süß Oppenheimer,

not the bomb guy, three centuries
previous use
of political mindspheres metaphoring
In the meantime, Süß discovers he is the illegitimate son
of a respected nobleman, but decides
to continue living as a Jew, as he is proud
of having achieved such a position despite this.

Proud handicap, all I have sir,
it is funny, but I know,
wanna bet,

One Love, Mr. Marley,
show the skulls somebodyscrunching,

oh, death, don't linger
take me swiftly in just one breath…

well then, certain as any reliving after
exposure to a standard acheivement proof of work

I am not a robot, I operate qwerty guy,
we work hand in hand, each side accustomed

to these words and apps that let us get old school
El Ron Hubbard from the boomer cupboard,

Life or Look in or around October, 1969
parts of this are old thoughts rethought and edited,

Not palimpsests, those are a pain,
not as bad as charcoal scrolls, though, so

what's new for old stores of information?

Did we learn who redacted Daniel?

Or who had Kennedy killed and caught
all the witnesses, oh, the weight of a place,

honest to god hill billy heaven, you'd be
with the Hawks at Jack Ruby's club,
related
onyermommaside, see, so when you know,
relatively suddenly,
it's all show,
that's business, we're learning
though, through
some old ways wisdom proves peace,
made up in a mind, worth
what ever peace making buys these days,
what ever pretense for war we leave be gone,

this is ever
appearing as today brought to you by

Natural occurences, alpha thought, the first letter

is e. dot. e as in mcsquared, a kinda winding all the way
around once, at a snails pace, kinda wondering the way

spirals got on those rocks back when stories lived
in precious good to know a little bit of the big parade,

a proper triumph,
as an idea, such are as rare as detectable Earths.

you cannot hold the whole truth you think you know,

like, of course,

while
in the course,
of human events,

human earthdust structure underlying vulcanism,
eons non timed merely making hydrogen
leib-ecombomb
oh helio centric we think,

gravity wise, it's all chaos, until, limit preposed

crystaline salt at its lifeless grandest, supposed

organized minds, informing seekers

to take it easy, thinking nothing
on the radio spectrum bumps

photons meandering
through optic fiber strands,

to land and assume you're
with me… wanna back track?

There's a movie
about this guy,
in my moment ago, who

knew so many things change,
with a little radiant energy

used
to think so many things,
with Turing Mental Machines

and time
and Von Neuman's longest
spiraling general truth
self replicating

across all actual paradigms projected,

into theaters that were palaces,
when they turned
on the lights,

to sweep trash strewn
by litter bugs,

and I was one, and I was many characters,

from the dramas that normalize us, or used
to
properly tuned, that pure note, you, in awe.

In the desert,
in the night, not
on TV, but went and did that,

by myself…

and only I saw, so these memories,

these are made up, you see,

some jokes, beau geste la joconde

madjalook, mused, not guiled, not guiledly
slight smile deep breath

twice. If it is fun
to make fun, why does it hurt?

Where does that hurt,

did I stomp your TOE?

I was kinda hoping, ai'n'all, truth trials

redeemed time, thinking Bic speed,
candle light, setting, one pocketbook

paperback writer beat it ****** hoh-ee

woe is we who watched it all fade away,

laughing at the worth
of living, winning,

like,
a year and counting

after three focused bolts of lightning

while we were honest
to god flying,
while dying, honest, helicopter
came and got me
and I did not

stay dead, they jolted me into

right now.

Whenever I think about the odds of this
or that… you never know all things, this

way, at truepuregnosishit preparation,

- wait, what if… interuption erupts,
- a laughing sigh, nnnand gate do-overy coo

harmless Feynman joke three gates back

hoh-ee means woe,
in the KJV, so we know.
repetition, proverbs lead somewhere.
Not magic, iusta thinking, instance deja vued
he ja way per se
a bit, snippet, voices in the hall, children and grandma

all watching fourteen seasons of NCIS, and,

that's this today here, spring forwarded, and

thinking this happens
at breathe-ing speeds, I love it

drifting, practice dementia, musing, practicing harmonica

alone,
on a hill, breathe-ing
with a mossy granite wall time speckled beside me,

I can imagine we all did it just

this once

just this.

Fair trade rabbit hole, hooks
Dodgson, dominated Disneyified

first seen through the smoke
from the loge for smokers,
in front of the projector,

you've seen the scenes, cartoons
in the smoke
on its way

almost any way
that's beautiful.

Look at me,
a bit or a tad too high, pleasantly

aware we were reaching past
last
grasp

stretching to think lively.

Following the path
Written ahead
Not realizing
It's all in my head.

The path is within.

He drives dreaming,
     smoke writhing between
              gashed fingers keeps the
                                         wheel turning.
                                                  Sometimes,
                                an irresistible light
                     flares its hungry glare
           blinding the only eye
he can see with.
Sometimes,
     he's headlessly drifting,  
               and fears what's sprawled
                                 on the kerb might've
                                                        been him
                                    and when it isn't,
                              he pays a toll
       bound for the high way
black as a solstice night
     riding serpentine
          until he's no longer
                     prey to the break
                                              of day.

The sun is broad above the forests,
intoxicating, blinding bright.
A moment of perfection, flawless,
a quiet place, almost a rite

of passage for transcending all
the measly binds of blood and flesh.

I lie beneath the sun, I crawl
the veins of this subastral trench.

I gaze upon how far I've come,
I weep upon what's left to creep,
whoever hikes a mountain lone
will feel it's hillside twice as steep.

Alone with thoughts there's nothing better
than doubting your way to the peak.
Sometimes I wonder, would I ever
walk paths, not knowing where they lead.

Once on the Path again,
sunbound
even for just a heartbeat,
leaving it feels like losing a friend.

May we be
brave enough to see the signs,
wild enough to trust them
all the way back to our hearts.

May we be
light enough for spindrift
to twirl us up into the air
and may we, violently or gently, land
just where we’re meant to.