You taught me a love like I had as I became one with the universe.
You taught me like as if I were the sky. Rays between, above as below.
I meet with the stars, as the sun settles and the moon blooms
Oh sweet prairie, let me lay down
In sweet scents and tickles on my face
Sweet love like a release of air
To be your breath
Our breath
The breath in between.
I long
For you.

Three
chests heave-
in the dark,
Breathing throughout
Each exhale.
The soundscape
adopts
a sleepers tone;
As
the clock's
      Tick tock,
Counting each second;
Becomes infinite-
The midnight's
metronome
Insues...

Once upon a time, I willed myself to dream
that you'd care if I wore my heart on my sleeve. Ever since, I have.
But not for you.
I do it for me.

the quick brown fox
jumped over the lazy dog
and spun a fancy tale
about the history of clichés

it beat a valiant bush
before burning a broken bridge
and kicking its own bucket
under six feet of foliage

now its dead like that horse it beat--
from counting chicks and party tricks
to counting sheep and hourly bleats
the fox is dead but oh was it quick!

they quietly loomed over you,
arms interlocked so you never moved.
solemn faces, small, narrowed eyes.
you prepared to meet your demise.

but one day, their hands slightly shook.
that quick movement was all it took.
you pushed past those cold, binding arms,
embraced confidence, far from harm.

Lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely!
She said I am so lonely, lonely, lonely,
I  could die.
My mouth was dry,
There ain't sweetness here in paradise

Baby, Baby, baby, baby!
She said baby, baby, baby,
I  could die.
My mouth was dry,
But there ain't sweetness here in paradise.

Love, love, love, love!
Love, love, love,
I kissed you hard,
My mouth's was dry,
There ain't sweetness here in paradise.

in the hall of harmless whims dancing in living words

Past experience is not an accurate term, as I
define its actu-
ality in my re-ality, I
see things as fine as can be, fine,
which is an idle phrase,
I often used to say,
was
not fine, to the query "how are you?".
It was a lump, tiny thing, bit of thought
coalescing scing scing sing
a bit part
in the grand drama,
like the dwarf
in the 1973
Belridger Orange Orchard Opera,

pick it up, maestro

HOW AM I? high baritone
- softly silly would it be of me
- to offer fine as a mindful reply

I often used to say, my side is winning.
Saying so sincerely, in its etymo-perfect sense,
believing, by my own leave - this

at those instances, the next word I said was leaven
intended to infect and spread, I consistently said
to how am I? "My side
is winning. "

-while deep beneath the surface of the shiny helm,
a mirror-neuronic will-ess nanomek sets ess-ential
key truth provokers to pierce the lies I belived…
In essence we sense
leaks
Bubbles of being novelize in old bottles, set upright,
too quick - cat
ch
Past experience,
knowledge gained sits idle
in past-tense, speaking
from those moments ago,
during the current experience,…

Sitting in the shade watching clouds
as the least noticed child in my life
was noticed by me, he, the middle child of five,
Sits down beside me, and says,
from "out of the blue",  I really want to be…

a marine biologist.

He just finished 3rd grade, and the real reason he is
near me now, is to ask when he can return
to X-box, for the Fortnite upgrade,
tic, it begins to emanate,
this
meta-modern
emergence in me
of the idea that experience
is what we carry, as a load,
not sin and shame and blame.

I know something of marine biology.
I watched My Octopus Teacher, twice.
I mention that, to Gabe.
I think in my heart,
Experiences don't get left behind,
they follow us
as strands of us, so fine as
to be disregarded as
memories,
until we feel the experience
of being eight and being listened to.

The fundamental mental basis of time,
to word is "same yesterday, today and so on"

Think, I know what it feels like to be a kid,
but not what it feels like to be a kid and listened to.

So, I had this experience with me,
as my grandson.
I ask him, does he think he can
"Put on the mind of an octopus"?
It is a knack all mortals have, augmented now
with knowing how to feed a wish to know,
we have the internet and our wits
about us, gathered, forming knowables,
extending curios  senses
into a common stateless mind realm
of all the gathered knowledge
in mankind's
experience
on earth
being a made-up mind, now
augmented with access
to the most complete
library and
searchable muse-repository, treasure horde
for experiences others offer
to goodness
in the future,
for our use in pursuit of peace, which
we form from days we experience and accept
as treasure offered to the gods of good sense.

Ever,
first imagine, ever,
ever when never was.
Image that, put it on the screen. See.
Ever after never ever can be,
- rabbi, where do you live?
around the next curve,
come and see, we filled never
with ever and left nothing
to be where never was, imagine that.
-------------
Today, I experienced learning how life functions
with no instruction, no post-**** praxeology,
octopi never spend a post **** moment in school,
save the dearest of them all, experience.
Octo-pi odes to octopuses
just be, a living thing,
as you may be am-using controls
to respond to any event in your experience,
in the hall of harmless whims dancing in living words
quickened, as an octopus
grows five hundred new fingers feeling
-- you, dear reader - certainly, it's about you…
the link is to your attention, we paid in advance.
----------- blip

you learn to em-perience ex-perience to peers,
seeking some thing, interesting,
nothing learned, life-wise
experienced,

oh my god, a dear school, indeed

but a fool learns in no other. So, I say,
Live to learn, learn to live. Use the bait you find.

Another 21st century bit
of Grandfatherly insight, had I gone any other route
to now,
I can't imagine the riches that are mine,
not won, given
for aiming early,
at a satisfied mind, like my grandpa seemed to have.