What is it to understand?.
To be towards something, to enter it, and for it to enter me.
To really know a place involves finding it from many roads.
"getting to grips" is the proper term.
Can a computer understand?
First ask: can it "get to grips"?.
Can it let something be an ornament in the house of its being?
Can it feel that mastery that accompanies beholding a thought?

If it cannot feel that mastery, it cannot understand.
A calculator is masterful, but never a master.
The master can find a thought from the least expected roads.
The great thinker is a great walker, he makes his own path.

insight really is in-sight, a vision of a new path in thought.
in-sight is an attraction between the knower and unconcealed.
Both move towards each other.
This is not computation.
It is the flow of truth, not a truth.
To be rational is to allow truth to flow unimpeded.
To allow the unconcealed to become revealed, in whatever form.
This is an act of honour, self-restraint, and strength.
A computer will never know what courage it takes.
Forced "rationality" is not rationality.
To think only rationally involves not knowing something.
What irrationally, the impeded flow of truth, is really like.
And this is a paradox of rationality that a computer cannot know.

Minds and machines exist in different spheres.
The one is concrete flow, the other abstract and blind.
Machines live in the same world as numbers.
But we are too blind to see.
Too afraid to admit.
That a machine has faces no grit.
Has no real wit.
Cannot "get to grip".
Has no in-sight.
No feelings of fright.
Not a taste of irrationality.
Or creative originality.
Nor fears its own death.
Or strives for breath.
Does not love without thought.
And can never get caught
Behind the veil of chaos.
But what is our pay off?
True understanding.
Which is to dwell, to decorate, to make home, on the sea of chaos.

i told you "good night, i love you".
yet
i am not sleeping.

i am listening to the stars sing a song

a note
for every time i have thought of your fair, blush-drunk skin and
sweet, tender soul
melting and mixing with mine at the brush of fabric and shoulders and loud laughter in a space too public.
but i don't care.
i don't think you do either.

it might take four shots of ***** to feel that way again.
but
i only need to see you smile
and i know next morning i'll have a lovestruck hangover
and be changed for the next week.

this is the reason why
we should never, ever get married.
unless
this is simply what no one ever told me about real, raw, love
that hits you like a train
the cargo is sugar
bleeding red roses
and now i don't have to buy twelve at the store for nineteen ninety-nine.
first autumn chill freezing my toes inside my shoes while i wait after knocking at your front door
(we're going to the nice restaurant downtown.)
waking up to a tornado warning at five AM and my first thought is if you're okay,
opening the kitchen windows to the smell of fresh rain and you're texting me pictures of the rainbow.

falling asleep at long last

and at long last dreaming of you.


the stars are singing a song
and in my dream, curled up close next to you

i am singing too.

The uniting spirit between us
hundreds of thousands of years and
we lived as hunter-gatherers

This blip in civilization
has been the ascension of the individual
Look at all us tyrants can do by exploiting the universal potential
Spur on division amid the masses and channel any
enlightening sciences into lip service appeasements
that only serve to enhance the status quo
hum-**, regular old exploitive system
we verify by looking back
in our teleological telescopes
Just like the Dutch East India pirates in the Spice Islands

The worst of it is the hypocrisy of it all
Saying they're for freedom and rights
and endorse the man from Galilee handing out fish to
panhandling outcasts, but no
of course the killing is worse
than the irony in between

MacDonald's dead, his tartan's in rags
We're powerless
so we became smart as kids
Putz around, find out stupid ruthlessness wins
Some folks just can't do it

You are the sparrow, or the one who oversees.
You are the sea worm — the one that bottom-feeds.
You are the urchin which waves could never crash.
You are the person whose feelings will never last.

You are the yeti, whose hand is very grand.
You are the teddy, soft as white sand.
You are all things, and no things, all at once.
You are the heartbeat whose race cannot be won.

The Poem

"Life is the true poem"

July 18, 2025.

A gaze from the sixth sense,
to seek that poem, "The Poem."
That poem that is always there,
to dive into life searching.
Where life is the only poem,
that poem that holds everything.
Where everything is, to see,
to feel, that it unveils itself,
in pieces for life.
In pieces searching,
for that ideal poem.
Reflections of life,
that are just,
there in everything.
Unfurled,
pieces,
parts,
souls,
poet.
In that,
which is,
something,
more.
You,
and
...

A spark
screaming cries of a newborn,
it is given skin that can be
remade or destroyed.

Man opens its mouth
muttering from its lips
that is forced into our canvas--
labels, beliefs,
aesthetics, morality,
culture, and flavor.
Most stand on this layer,
not know what may
be below our comfortable heels.

When man becomes curious,
the layer fades slowly,
as we fall.
Laws, materials,
perspectives, awareness,
theories, and religions.
This is the layer where most of us--
are comfortable,
yet we fear what may be below us.

When man becomes critical,
the air feels suffocating
to the point our feet
feel the sweat
that comes from the skin.
The layers fades slowly
as we fall.
Self, i,
conscious, subconscious,
desire, and ideals.
This layer is full of
echoing screams of despair.
Below us is what truly trembles
one's soul,
one's realm,
one's given meaning,
and one's identity.

When man becomes unusual,
a middlemist red blooming in isolation,
the layer fades slowly
as we fall.
Nothing,-
but a lonely man
in a small collective chamber.
We only have the choice to either;
fade away to the end,
stay in the absurd,
or create out of raw energy.

There is no noise,
no man's truth,
no sunshine,
and no home.
Above all is what was created by man.
There is only a
naked space that spews fear at us,
so harsh and cruel that we try to stay above it
as a way to escape from it;
wrap it in lies,
or stare at it.

And yet here,
something still follows us,
something that we carry within us,
the core that made us man,
our emotions that remain within,
experiences that pass through our senses,
memories that live like bubbles,
nature that gives us warmth that arrived long before us,
beauty that we tell from our eyes and how we feel,
harmony that keeps us together through a zigzag string,
and love, which enables all and make us go coo-coo.

Bit by bit,
the void reveals countless meanings
that are above the bottom.
The ones, that have existed, or are reshaping and reforming,
the ones, that keeps us alive,
the ones, that truly makes us,-
fear death itself--
unless numbed.

Give me a foot to go
Give me a heart to bind
Give me a reason to stay
Confusing as it sounds.

What is there to know but what is unknown
To feel it so near yet never grasp it
Ponder at what lays ever beyond
The horizons of all understanding

To be at peace in grasping
All knowledge will never be attained
Yet we will search it out nonetheless
And our species will spend all its eons
Be they long or short

That our wonder may never cease

The nostalgia trap we're in is condensing
all the freedom and choice they'd give us consumers
as they squeeze more profit and
cover for risky revolutionary rumblings

Do we forget the time saving value?
Less commercials, 30 second shorts,
having access to so much at once
We want to say we weren't prepared but
perhaps that's to cover for freedom and individuality
we didn't want
We like freedom to leave your house, to chase
grand destinations, and define ourselves by contemplating
all the people

I am them
this is where I am
Out here we're not apparitions going up and down the stairs
or flat shadows on our picture screens

We had to buy the DVDs
and pay for CDs and magazines

How much of our tastes back then were the result of
avoiding buyer's remorse?



Celebrities don't need to say who they're voting for
but hopefully they embody ideals that move society forward
or at least away from life denying tendencies, restricting freedom
both negative and positive liberty
Alms for freedom at every level
A still well-to-do poor


You sadomasochist fascists just want your big daddy
to punish your brothers and sisters even more than you
and he even lets you watch