#able - Hello Poetry

Dear departed ones, take heed how we recall thee, we pretend to here have Florenzi Floresiensis there in ever far away bare bones, from there-then away a way where no way was, when the way when this way, was shown, walk that way step backwards, walk a mile, then another Suddenly hear from a friend's ghost memory Plennie L. Wingo owned a small diner in Abilene, Texas, but it closed with the onset of the Great Depression… From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plennie_L._Wingo> Santa Monica to Istanbul - backwards, for a way to make a living as an actually free to do as I please person, to make up a mind and say let's imagine we make it a habit. Each time we wake from sleeping we take up this one mind. As we put our hat upon our head, same function, thunk. Verified, because Journalists do that these days, or could, or should because bogus science [BS] is accruing as we think. Brrrrrr Belief relief, as usual, morning right usual do the same old think, remembering wishing for the tech Flattop had in **** Tracey, which re act squeezes a sleep charged pair of sprites, pixel sized shining surficant sticky stuff in the corner of an eye justly assumt its place in the cloud of witnesses, June Gloom, Saturday final Spring Soccer matches in May, and Grandma is driving so Grandpa can stay home and just figure out what our next move would be if this were just like an ancient Moqui magic return on investment spent just making up Moqui mohcus focus at a cadaver, yea, verily. Pause between lines, be she who first calls wise truth's way. It's instant instance pressed in presence, thunk, thunk back, justice police written exam answer A. Justice is the end of government. It is the end of civil society. It ever has been and ever will be pursued until it be obtained, or until liberty be lost in the pursuit. ["The Federalist," No. 51] From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=justice> Happens all the time, lucky memory, lucky me, I did not die. Okeh, right, Voltaire peeps up, or pipes up, it's unclear, Define end, to begin the decursive hah aha its essence. Sigh, hiss… pause… per haps from pursued ones tamed, good old Happy Days anchored outside Tvland in 1970. ----------------- Did you, ah, yes, of course, you did or must do coursing through human events course corrected after noting lights and knowing left from right where I am free from immediate touching me woe. Free form conscious being thinking I am. Free formative conscience just using us as ifs we wondered once when we were here at once, cohere, coexisting in time and space as discharged idle time wasted fretting what does not immediately **** us, is not good suicide. We know the constancy of clouds, we sang in the sunshine, we had every day, a way to be come and see the fields of wasted dreaming, fretfree jazz on a Bluebear B flute, in an empty Fishnet Factory, Khai Vinh, Judges all arise absolving all aspirants to crowns of laurel, freely giving granted gracious sakes alive certainty to insure proper service, ienai adaptive island miniaturization factualization Stegadons and little people, first hold that thought, what's a stegadon, that's a tiny elephant. Who imagined stegasaurus? Who has seen the bones? Who knew how long ago stories were used to cohere us? Who knows Kerouac would drool for tools such as these? Teletype rolls he wished for. Full-size Newsprint rolls have we, Denim if you wisht it or pulp paper, should we agree ask any competitive creative AI to present this whole Instant true seeking active think I can, embedded, correspond cor stor activate prethunk precept set free… From no blame on me I have not taken remains real to blame me with grace mistaken as granted as the place or real estate to which I aspired as we become old and done. Point taken or made, occurs to those who take it. Here, in my hand-me-down Costco Leather Chair from a distance, through a tiny hole whole gnosis IT camera obscura cures the morning dews away, it is another day alive in the sphere of all I settled for. Real life, magic fingers, little letters in all kinds of lets act as real as ever has been imagined we may act a we, as is reactualized earlier, we became information holders holding certain truth's self-evidently and thus, undefined. Ends, loose, like Moqui Marbles, whose idea were these? Opinions, Options, Obligation to whom, whose wind is in whose sails, whose time's awastin' what iffin' a wonder if we didn't once more.

0

May 16

May 16, 2026 at 12:30 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Stacking Moqui Marbles Memory Wise

Dear departed ones, take heed how we recall thee, we pretend to here have Florenzi Floresiensis there in ever far away bare bones, from there-then away a way where no way was, when the way when this way, was shown, walk that way step backwards, walk a mile, then another Suddenly hear from a friend's ghost memory Plennie L. Wingo owned a small diner in Abilene, Texas, but it closed with the onset of the Great Depression… From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plennie_L._Wingo> Santa Monica to Istanbul - backwards, for a way to make a living as an actually free to do as I please person, to make up a mind and say let's imagine we make it a habit. Each time we wake from sleeping we take up this one mind. As we put our hat upon our head, same function, thunk. Verified, because Journalists do that these days, or could, or should because bogus science [BS] is accruing as we think. Brrrrrr Belief relief, as usual, morning right usual do the same old think, remembering wishing for the tech Flattop had in **** Tracey, which re act squeezes a sleep charged pair of sprites, pixel sized shining surficant sticky stuff in the corner of an eye justly assumt its place in the cloud of witnesses, June Gloom, Saturday final Spring Soccer matches in May, and Grandma is driving so Grandpa can stay home and just figure out what our next move would be if this were just like an ancient Moqui magic return on investment spent just making up Moqui mohcus focus at a cadaver, yea, verily. Pause between lines, be she who first calls wise truth's way. It's instant instance pressed in presence, thunk, thunk back, justice police written exam answer A. Justice is the end of government. It is the end of civil society. It ever has been and ever will be pursued until it be obtained, or until liberty be lost in the pursuit. ["The Federalist," No. 51] From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=justice> Happens all the time, lucky memory, lucky me, I did not die. Okeh, right, Voltaire peeps up, or pipes up, it's unclear, Define end, to begin the decursive hah aha its essence. Sigh, hiss… pause… per haps from pursued ones tamed, good old Happy Days anchored outside Tvland in 1970. ----------------- Did you, ah, yes, of course, you did or must do coursing through human events course corrected after noting lights and knowing left from right where I am free from immediate touching me woe. Free form conscious being thinking I am. Free formative conscience just using us as ifs we wondered once when we were here at once, cohere, coexisting in time and space as discharged idle time wasted fretting what does not immediately **** us, is not good suicide. We know the constancy of clouds, we sang in the sunshine, we had every day, a way to be come and see the fields of wasted dreaming, fretfree jazz on a Bluebear B flute, in an empty Fishnet Factory, Khai Vinh, Judges all arise absolving all aspirants to crowns of laurel, freely giving granted gracious sakes alive certainty to insure proper service, ienai adaptive island miniaturization factualization Stegadons and little people, first hold that thought, what's a stegadon, that's a tiny elephant. Who imagined stegasaurus? Who has seen the bones? Who knew how long ago stories were used to cohere us? Who knows Kerouac would drool for tools such as these? Teletype rolls he wished for. Full-size Newsprint rolls have we, Denim if you wisht it or pulp paper, should we agree ask any competitive creative AI to present this whole Instant true seeking active think I can, embedded, correspond cor stor activate prethunk precept set free… From no blame on me I have not taken remains real to blame me with grace mistaken as granted as the place or real estate to which I aspired as we become old and done. Point taken or made, occurs to those who take it. Here, in my hand-me-down Costco Leather Chair from a distance, through a tiny hole whole gnosis IT camera obscura cures the morning dews away, it is another day alive in the sphere of all I settled for. Real life, magic fingers, little letters in all kinds of lets act as real as ever has been imagined we may act a we, as is reactualized earlier, we became information holders holding certain truth's self-evidently and thus, undefined. Ends, loose, like Moqui Marbles, whose idea were these? Opinions, Options, Obligation to whom, whose wind is in whose sails, whose time's awastin' what iffin' a wonder if we didn't once more.