Old paths never cobbled
float stones, over the years.
Through the winter each day I walk
or drive this trail,
I moosh down the mud and deep
down ought or else pushes back and
water takes the waymaker function,
path of least resistance,
Hydraulic pluerosis pops a stone into my path.
An old stumbling stone, new position.
Kick'em out the way, see watcha find
coils of oughts thought steps as
Bethel to where Jesus says the Kingdom
of right use right-e-o-us
come hell or high water
Lor' willin', if the creeks don't rise
you trust your kenotic self to flow, least re
A. or B. Either opens the gate,
t'm'yaad, eden bydemnation namin' imps.
Clouds of could'ves push-crash
judge you, I judge me and we judge each
I am first reader, I and my muse and the manual dexter/sinister
skill with the maigi
(I key far faster than hemingway two finger typed,
if he did, like on tv)
I correct me, I was trying and, by trying doing.
Earlier in life I magined one sneaky lie true
because it came from
wise entity telling Luke,
there is no try only do,
maybe for Alienated Jedi minds, not mine,
mine works if I try to do and do, so trying and doing
is done at once.
Okeh. An earlier exploration was tainted by my wish
to be seen wise in relation to an imaginary
depicted fiction seen as the source
of base level words chock full o'
wisdom... nuts... Yoda was never real.
C'mon, gimme the old American
Try again. Emulate Socrates and Jesus,
Old Ben says it worked for him,
Kenosis-like. The thirteenth step in
experiment in thinking as an
American might, in the future,
relative to then.
People still read the
Auto-biography of Ben, right?
A proverbial treasure buried long ago
Kenosis pluerosis and such, who knew such words held such depths? I love the Global Brain, and your part in it, dear reader.