Wrong turns, bad luck or no luck,
lucid recollections now six decades gone,

still,
points of reflection, from ruling class
reporters on what in Hell is happening,

while
time to stay one's mind upon meaning,
in the simple definitive act react act react

pneumatic logical breath in, breathe out,
distinctive other way, breath out, breathe in.

Putting first things first in picker experience,

we pick all the fruit on one tree, previous
to moving on to another tree, precious
memories, how they linger, and
with gladness flood my soul,

as gladness is our happy state, glad to say.

------------------------ trilling wohold on
on the bus, red satin black fringe, oh, my soul

Nine billion, or so

nobodies, lacking charisma
as they say, that worthiness some

seem to radiate, those affected say,
worth-shippedness certified appraisals

from conscious attenders to words, message
signaling
my start… minding my own business, changing
line upon line of nothing at all to nothing but this

my personal comfort zone, nonautomation ostent
atious waste

of whitespace, vertical panels, virtually lensing
reality, scrolled to veritable infinity
at the core of what a person is
in the common space our windows paradigm
on all time's contextual stretch of our shared sense,

our common sense, at cognate word level, basic
bottom mind sense, at cooperational deontologic

whying, when it comes to wishing others were
in some steady state afinity with me, against lying,

in wait, quietly hoping to trick before being tricked
into belief construction zones, sans hard hat or tools.

--------- Boss mind, hey
boss, Patron, se, patriotic soul man, woe, wombed
or un, man all the same kind at mind level, emotions

's where, all the difference there ever is, begins,

Genisis, to a child reared in post war anywhere,
if your mind allows empires represented by ancient
totems, rampant beasts believed to defend us, under
God,
who forbade ourkind, our unfallen, innocent spirit mind,
participation in one part of living reality, as far as we have

seen, with our Google Earth eyes, and our JWST eyes,
and our own inner eye, I am, we each know, anyway,

with knowledge now a given, a lie, all children just believe,
the first impression, what a lie does, told, and untold true,

subtler than any beast, but delicate matters, points balanced

under law, not under grace, bottom line rule for being
American to the core, where a person keeps its pride in just

being among the living, during days difficult to endure, just
if I had
known, as a spirit, what a spirit mind may imagine, as real as,

ten years, after starting to think, why am I justifying the real lie?

Genisis, seven days, was likely long told when moons were told,
shown, with story, tomorrow night, moon, you hear me, so old,
the initiation story, watch, mark this night, you here, me sold

in gratitude, in debt to more, by far, than I may think or ask,

inventers granted knowledge of wit, with which we think to ask,

what lonely God, comforted only by Wisdom and whatever spirit
is, free from mortal prejudice, paid attention to idled words spirits

sparks, from a movie about sentient machines,
and cyborgs, enhanced mortal mind wit changers
witchangers, endangered species writ remainders

woe, endure to the end, Joe, where y'gwanwidat gun inya ha'dja n
n na nanana to the when, any where any time, one wishes to ignor

all the peace we make at once, little tiny boil about to become rolling
as the latter rains arrived in my valley, today, to keep wild fires at bay,

all we know is we agreed, we sure could use some rain, amen
all we said, once is we agreed, life is different in spirit and truth,

on any given day, good gets judged, habits get checked, wishes happen,
and a men as a principle sylable, sayable spell song sung men t'al haps
men kind ness wor th a sayable
as haps may become the we
in legendary gentle peace
for no reason,
just cause

its poetic right useness

we think we
work, we think we work, we
be hum us yes humusyes we,

Ullyeseesus, amen, in spirit and truth as we may imagine

after, breath, 3 P.M. alarm, and no attached what for sense…
I know what it was for, a week ago, now it is for whatever it

interrupts… taking time to consider certain outlets, enough to

Run it up the pole, see who saluts.

She was just seven,
She really wanted to go to heaven,
Dreamed of being free,
Loved the idea of there being a "we".
They told her what she can’t wear,
They told her she has to put up her hair.

She was just thirteen,
Staring at glowing screen.
They told her she’ll distract the boys,
They told her she doesn’t have a choice,
At the time she didn’t realise she didn’t have a voice.

She was just fifteen,
Haunted by all the things she’d heard and seen.
Haunted by all of her thoughts,
She just didn’t yet know how to connect the dots.
And they just told her that he was being mean,
They told her that she was the one making a scene.

Now she’s twenty one,
Realised that freedom isn’t always that much fun.
She found out the game’s not fair,
They’ll always paint her with despair.
And that might be okay,
She can always just call it a day.
This caused her to believe,
That there are a lot of things she can achieve.

But she will never win,
They will always say she committed a sin.
She is doing well,
doesn’t care what the whispers tell,
even if she’ll go to hell.
Because that’s the one place they said wasn’t cool,
So maybe she’s the fool,
And heaven is the place that’s not cool.

If she knows that they’re dumb,
Why is she so numb?
She doesn’t know how to feel,
Is all of this even real?

For a woman I am a decent driver

Enough to hold wheel
You once told me

Argument admissable

That mastery majority of female species lacks

Like testosterone and equality

I am evidence that there is an exception to every rule

now i am older
and with a told heart i listen

with some alone time
i could really steer

the present is now
told a thousand years ago
and we stand conscious