A bemusement used, a taken way...
Usually reality is realized
after all seemed
done, ready as we appear
in the bubble
of all that has ever been known, or told
in medium made
to hold collective gnosis,
recognosis' last realization
known as common sense
we, who read already know,
but so far never use altogether.
---------------
See time, imagine seeing time,
prepare perception per
happening, per
turning, re
turning to go…
go on,
perform the day,
become the knower
asking for interpreting
translation retaining prettiness.
Can you, with your tools, presume
every reader ever sipping this piece
or part of the wholesome inspiration,
each reader already
wills the fist,
fingers wound, thumb bound
to knock
on the portal asking egress,
apparent,
from this far, retrogress,
inward vision,
to the core, here,
whither heart and lungs work
the works within us, pumps
for the fluids we intake,
and rework into blood
and phlegm, snot gobs and spittle,
to lubricate descent into churning acid,
that burns, dissolves, breaks down, food,
for thought used for reason, to answer
why, or how, when, where, who,
enough, for any character, I or
you, the other, there, seeing
time made from theory
of entheos enthusiasms thought
through though roughly, being as
distance traveled in experience, known
between us, emptyness, in truth,
nothing to see, no evident connection,
save the absolute reality these letters let
be, the meaning, the unspoken,
or, the finite bespoken spell,
ordering attention, pointed
precept perception, taken in,
via letters letting translators
make all who read be mankind,
wombed or un, we always insist,
persistence in life is what we live
to prove worth the wait, we run,
in the manner of machines, spring
driven, wound up to run down, sit
still
waiting for impetus to push us, ag
us into aggressive response, obeying
fusing forces restricting chemistry
laws of valence and ionic charge
informing recognizable
smell and taste, certain flavors used
to make one think, any thought thing,
reifiable, if one trys to think what if we
both sides
of these ephemeral lettings,
as one pulls, the other pushes, we run,
like a mechanical mind, winding next
around now, making ready, peeling away
the protective rind around the feeding
mind's first fruit from sleep and coffee,
catalysts few think of as tools, prepeeling,
pre
parings falling prophesy a letter Y, why
because, of course, you shall be loved.
----------------
Let each stitch contribute,
leave each line remember next.
Each stitch taken to mend, saves…
Thread, twine, or more twists,
tieing strands set aside for good,
useful
lengths as linear tying tools holding
this or that, to other parts, already, in
the frame, weft strung taut, strummed,
harpish notes, each string tuned
to perfect tension,
within our loom's frame, adjusted
to the background noise,
participating notes unnoticed
in the finished goods sent to market.
---------------
eh? Commercial quality, y'say?
it is naught, it is naught,
but the buyer lies.
By now, the asking price is paid.
What market, who buys my confusing redoing
weaving the wishes of me as a boy, into final form,
old man, looker into the abyss, and listening, humm
of life in the flesh,
in the reality you seem
to become future real in,
stepping away from the well trodden road to riches,
landing in one of those engineered ditches, sudden,
instant after falling, laughing, glad there was no rain,
since, were that superfluity
relief never forseen as
needful, even essential,
to prevent a total washout
of roads
from ever before
to ever after, where
when as ever truth does tell
it inevitably must rain too much.
------------------------- Epilog
Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Let me taste your ware."
Says the pieman
to Simple Simon,
"Show me first your penny,"
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Indeed, I have not any."
Well, then eat a poem,
for truth once paid attention,
works like a penny, for simple men
wishing but something to chew.
Pi, and spinning and wishing all work
spells we wish we knew, roundly.
E to the nth degree evolves to rest
Entheos inspired, empathy aspiring…
letting be what must amused remain enthused.
Evident bemusement, in the space of time.
Thank you, first reader. Yet to be, you are the first to find lines lost in the flood of letters forming nothing until you happened to read them. True or false, if that were the question attempting its own answer.
