Few,
I know,
I understand, few living
or in legends that grew as
all things worked together,

to sort the plebs
from the patrician heirs,
do, or believe done, indeed.

Oldest deeds
to land grants
to the suppliers
of groceries
and entertainment, bread et
circuses, happy merry men making

**, **, **, and a bo''le o'***
or a jug o' cheap wine,
though to drunks not allowed
on Election Day, or on Christian Sabbaths…
under which conditions, persistant coughs,

forced the man
with a dollar wine jones,
into the local pharmaceutical corner store

for a dose of Terpin Hydrate and Codeine
signed for on Election Day, even
in Blue Law Counties.

Now, Terpin Hydrate and Codeine,
can only treat persistent coughs, in elsewhere,

so liquor stores stay open on election days,
making days after, hang over, asking
what was sup, sup
post understood,

prophesied after effectual fervent prayer,
to do right
by you

a mandate from heaven, a Cyrus, envisioned,
and presented to the horde arriving
for the circus, worship the story,
in spirit and in truth, as one believes,
one's own self authorized to lieve being

true as true can be, taken, as given
in answer, apokrinomai phonic Greek,

as first person present tense I am made
in the eye of any beholden to a tried spirit,

come to pay respects, we watched the show,
unmazing performance, unraveling the weaves,

we've all imagined praying prayers that work
miracles, witnessed, before our very verifiably
wedom minded oath bound souls dispiritings
virtuosi-like - sudden shifts in sense, presensed

we were
all in black and white, and 254 shades of gray,
and the idea's that Boolean signs enforced,
with weight of knowing > custom duty tax

for sellers of wasted time spent on old mechanics.

Mind tool collections, mostly hammers and grips,
a solid anvil and some super sharp hardies,

my legacy used to prove
real life interruptions, fires, and wars, and weather

none one experiences, none one frets or prays
to prevent, taking grace for granted, lets hope float.

Gnoshit, some old truthz remain true, bottom up,
down in the dirt is the seed of every actual need,
and forces intwined so fine, you never real ize
you felt,
fine.

Stretched, strings tuned to creation, breaking
glassonion speedborn legal reactions to reasons

used to train warminding brains, containing secret
whys called reasons,
for the hate needed
to **** with.

Survive a babble
Copy that, say curio-wise…
Whom do I owe
for my survival, so far?
Say you know, I'll say
mebbe so, if your ideal surviva-babble
possible ever, after,
alls been saids been done
and ever at all in reality
exists,
is there a place where evil is punished,
for being known
in all the common
ways we think, lies we believe,
should be taken to the forge,
to be reconformed, to the hardy hole,
needed tho, never needed knowing,
how iron sharpens iron, steel hones
the edge,
in mental wars weaponry,
phi phantasy spirals
fibbonacci saw wise
twist most simple, bending x
hex marks the spot, you see x
hale the used air, taken in nex t
the rest
of the story, shall we find an ai
to read us, or shall we read our minds
and act as if we are listening,
fretlessly to all the jazz
wrapping angstroms to pure joy

adding the idea of a slight smile
using lost peace to make some

good for nothing pure
evil, imaginary, mirror neuron firing signals
to the glands
from the guts to each
knot of knowing relaying response
to the noise - cries of havoc,

Tense butter better
be war-y
settle, that was then, this is now, roles
change minds, don't think mind's don't change

kinds of minds, even, whole categories
of minds, character traits, collected,
across a seventy-two year space,
two minutes on the Babylon
clock calendar whole truth
concept wagwanfyew duty  to reify
if I were
what we agreed, to let be we. the plural I,
weform the patterns we make, the paths
we take, the patterns we use to make sense,

swirls and x t o A pi the sign, >< whose to say?

sets change, pillars come
to seem
to hold no weight free thought
recognized mustabin wild

- remenants proving result
- recognizable mob rule following
- deme domes as above so below

So, domes do work,
tunnels work too, the problem is,
nothing to do, the Coen bros tol' you

and if truth were told, living words told you.

Mental exchange graces many breaths, deep
taken with intention, to think, commas, work

That was in the era after the atom bomb,
and before the repulsion from Dianetics, umph,
Voltaire's secret, written invitation to converse
with him, in his or any Wikipeadian tongue,
his conditions were my agility to define,
my own terms, peaceable,
for good reason
infection, will
to define my terms, wish
to have this magical mechanism
to hold this thought, and link
on that phrase,
to make a novel, a new

way
to arrive where life leads, when followed.

For long you've been haunted,
but finally, the chest breaks open.
At last, continue onward.
The final lock's been shattered.
But make no mistake,
resistance wasn't pointless.
As now within your grasp
its contents are for grabs.
It's all you ever wanted.
It's all for you to take.
It's all that ever mattered.
It's how you trigger traps.

A sense of freedom
No thought circling around
An unfamiliar feeling
The pure rush of a fire that engulfs a wild forest with no limit.

we fall, we run, we chase, we hide
make plans and make believes
we force our roots to ignore the cycles of decay
we fill our bodies with rush and dismay
we love and we are ready to die all
the symbolic deaths that ignore the traffic lights
just to just to just to just to
avoid the unbearable pain of being alive

my father sat in a pool
of mid-morning sunshine
on the raised patio
overlooking the garden
an open book in his lap
the dog asleep at his side
the lightest of clouds
decorating the horizon
and a whisper of leaves
his only distraction

as i rushed to the kitchen
for a hastily made
better-than-nothing version
of a flat white
that i wouldn't even enjoy
only ten minutes to spare
before yet another meeting
i paused for a moment
to take in this scene
resplendent as he was
peacefully present
behind the radiance
of diaphanous lace
breeze-rippled curtains
suffused with sunlight

a pertinent reminder
of something which
i didn't have time
to consider

I don't have the right to write you a poem
But let me do it anyways.

I wish I had been prettier,
more kind, more bold,
I wish I had deserved one of your thoughts.
I was content, though,
Watching you from a distance,
While around you they caved the gold mine,
And all the girls tried their luck.
I was happy enough,
Knowing you knew my name.
I remember you
Not without nostalgia,
Because I wish I had been prettier,
more kind, more bold,
To have deserved one glance, one touch.
But our threads got lost in the riverbed,
I threw my coin and lost you to fate,
That is why I let you go
And be another's,
And maybe someday I'll see you again
And be brave enough to say
That I took my chances and lost the gold,
But that someone I hope deserved you more.

As told. As most stories come from some source,
we remember being the cause, or reason or why fact
or factor, thing, perhaps, event…

Many attempts to tell whole stories fail to find source
material, to begin with.
We are the source. Words with intention, stretched
from first utterance, fit to drum and dance and memor-ish,
been in form as first known functions, go do

Listen to the Anchor podcasts from beginnings in August 2018

I am surprised.
….
eight as an infinite loop, not a stack of circles… that

sorted red-bird readers from blue-bird readers in first grade…

Taking life at it's best, raw state,

new real future formation experience, in time
shared
from this place on a 64 bit grid, chessboard

going on
from knowing one thing
from a while ago,
listening
to my own dam-burst podcasts
on Anchor,
in the cloud, however long
this cloud of knowing all we can fit
in pieces
of eight's arranged
to contain its contents
-sets of eight
twice next square,
next there, flat place holder in times last chance
taken
one step further…

see as far as you can imagine a nine year old
exceptionally bright child will take the tale,

of a king who offered
to pay for the wise man's
wisdom which saved civilization,
globally…

Today, I rose, I woke from sleep, urged
to begin this tale,
the telling first
of what follows, a story born
on a story told, eh? tell the story you know,
as you ride,
write, flow, ride,
the gentle first principle first prime

one, one thing, be it, thought or word
one, begins all tally telling marks on life's old way,

beginmiddleend middleend middlend middlin'

then suddenly,
now. 2021, with all the tools, and more, than ever
power to publish any good new
thing
dis
covered, unveiled, the curtain of secrecy that makes
sacred thoughts worth finding time
to think,
rest, in peace, see

do that first, then die, now, the order of events is confused,
due to liars.
Mainly, selfish liars who hide knacks developer hormones,
under de-fining lines of reason
-refine fine, then define

rational, equal e-qual, bits essentially atomic, so small
no smaller
ever
itty bit, one. Point.

I just can't imagine that, exploding, says a familiar friend.
I agree, as I look about
and see littorals edging waves with white caps,
as flying nuns once wore
on TV . Do words ever speak to you as ideas, with no words,
authorized to convey
real old ideas
with many many many sayings formed from now thens
fit to any
situation, in situ, see you, you are a boy, nine years old,
second grade was Covid Year 1.
Third grade, Covid year 2. Fourth grade is now, one month in…

Grandpa character is concocting a tincture, honey and herb,
in pure moonshine, plus one part in ten, sprung water,
from former rains, in forming times

for your information, ****** is a state most
of solidity
aspires to. Listen, this is real.
This life I have, with electricity practically uninterruptible,

this life is tuned to sixty cycle humms, as natural as can be,
this buzz has all ways been with us,
you and I, minimum us-ity, plus the fluid medium binding us
to common sense,

you know what I mean. Life is magic
with no secrets, only
thoughts unthunk,
once more…

this day's story smiles, a true eye smile, twinkle, coming
out the kitchen door, to the bow of my galleon,
an old house, made ready for me, I saw, when first I saw it,

as it were, love at first sight, as I stood atop the stone,
that holds the shape of a fat little dinosaur, when seen
in the right light, I have photos.

Evidence abounds in the world I am native to.
Photographic, lithographic, geographic

symbols to link minds and times in re
cognosis,
presets, since ever was a ware, set in time as now,
for the present pre-sense
of story mind, common stories
we all know
re told too many times
for any one grain of the truth to seem
enough
to spill the pile, but
I smile
-- who knows
-- punctuate at will- the ditor agrees with the narra
SHUNE oops
re ject the object subject to
sense of
wonder if a we
were here waiting… eeeeeh

Back to that chessboard Gabriel has under his arm, as he exits
the kitchen and enters my immediate vicinity,
drawing my attention as ping
response, Sure.

We play two games, each a novel event, in time.
Then, I ask him if he knows a connection from this game
to 64 bit Pentium CPUs.

He does not, but his ears ***** up, in his wolf pup totem.
What does that mean, he slyly, this child,
dares me, tell the vision,
make it plain, do not dare lie, for some day, I,
eye to eye,
me and the child I barely bested in chess,
this child,
mirroring me neutronic elections fixed intention, I shall know
the truth in all you say, old man,
every idle word… I give account for redemption
of time, taken on account
of time spent meaning to say what it means

to be a winner in the big game,
where you die in peace.

You ever hear of the king thing that wished to repay a kindness?

Kind of. Kind is like, same kind, I do to you a kind thing, I think you
are my kind, and this kind of thing
is good for me, I grow when exposed to --
-- words fail the child
- in me or thee, this child curiosity tug
I feel
virtue drawn from me, here
tie a square knot,
eight bits to the dollar each basic attention credit invested
in a nine year old with the patience to learn chess well,
played
in whatever comes next mode,
three to five moves out

wishing
to know
of this fabled game
of go, Ai knows, naturally, now.
- go to the grid o nineteen to filter nexts,'
nature re real
ification situation
AI appear
From conception,
co knowing all the cloud contains as
ways to think
in rest true state as one
point BAT granted
{ah, money, who can hate it? Score}
go cognosis.

Yes, in twenty twenty-one, we know
from when an agreement
was reached- due virtue contained
in expressed smile drivers, detectible at sixty FPS
using common sixty cycle humms
to carry the sign
you know what I mean, ping,
ping
ever began,

just now, then

eve of destruction
to eve of creation
in one turn of earth
around the dog star, but who knew,
then?

Any way, back
to today and Gabe's curiosity reaching
for worth
in the time taken to hear,
based on experience, in a nine year old speed reader.
---
That's all §