#coherency
Sententious -ness - as a memory lane in the rest home.
Commit your works unto the way truth makes,
and your thoughts shall be established.
- mind-up, game-on,
- psuedo sci-psy-psi surfers
- versus cowboys, and creeps
Trust in truth with all your wit and courage.
Breathe. Each in
an out
from here on out
- a cough an'spittle swaller
- callit alla adjustaknot, a'ight
Sententious old men spew galling shame
on systems existing still
to instill the heart, drip
by drip- instilling
peace of patience informing
con courage, mental-gut-genug
from heavy duty hero worth displays,
bend and prove the worth,
be lead in proven paradox, and laugh
- Imaginary worlds are possible, not real.
Imagining is mere what ifing, in deed.
As when a man sees a wombed man..
-selah'alslates wiped, right,
-to compute the vacuum for the spin,
the emptiness must seem to breathe,
hmmm, how can men lie to make believers,
by believing lies, by God,
I believe that's right. Or could be.
Ask and accept the first sensible answer,
on a per-usual rate per using faces,
as messengers come with news,
ahoy, what of the night?
Night's gone at dawn. All's well, sacrifice
worked, the sun rises not in vain, again.
-stretcht point t' flat permeable thinness- next to
nothing be ing
tween ever and us,
meaning nothing,
but to the child, seeing the Liberty pose,
as she is about to fling her torch,
to burn all we left behind
over there
over there…
-geo measured First World War,
for the secrets saved at Pergamos,
leaked in mandalas made in sorted sands
aspirational spirals of winding
patterns escape,
A big Hualapai man, face as dark
as the Christ robed and crowned, hung
at Volta Santa de Luca, by that face,
in memories of passes,
clefts in rocks, to see
the backside of all we hoped to do
dying in sorrow and confusion,
and grappo by the gallon
Juaquin and Ezelda,
Hualapai Survivors just barely getting' by
fifty years ago, now, I see him painting
with sand, and feel him praying… say this
-- dedicated to his spirit, the idea of the man.
Which panta rhei - evokes in mind,
same ford affording this not the same flow,
these stones are far shinier, this time,
the old steps have been washed
out and faded as spells cast
to drive purple fringed,
white witches away
- bloodoheysus in de face o'de luca
- gone y'lyin' lyin' whatchacallem
Delirium Tremors, imagined, on acid,
here a statue with a machine gun,
under which I played, dedicated
to another Hualapai veteran,
reminds me, Sammy, the Apache,
whose brother Jonah was a barfing drunk
in jail with me one night in May, 1970..
Jonah was a Korea War vet,… he
reappears to give me continuity… persistence
in bending lost time to be redeemed,
by observation, ask was that day
applied to the cost of today?
Free time, take all you wish to spend,
how little could we know
of the life
to which the monument was dedicated,
the year my mother was born, 1928,
when the last who knew Sam Swaskegame
came to the big parade,
to unveil the dedicatory mon-u-ment
idolizing the willing ness to use
the science of war… to tame the wild…
chaos set to tempo, left,
left right left
- 76 trombones, 30 were bass
brazen trumping rah rah rah
unveiling the composition
representing spirits, one of a soldier,
standing tall, unafraid, brandishing
grenade, grinning, gonna getcha;
one of a sailor, waving his hat;
one of a Colt 1895 machine gun,
aiming at the future,
neither soldier
or sailor saw coming, one facing south,
the other north, as the gun aims west
at the sunset.
The parade took fifteen minutes,
from the fire station on Fifth and Beale
to the courthouse and jail at the top
of Fourth Street…
when the last who knew Sam Swaskegame,
laughs the tears irony makes,
"Lest We Forget",
we who served the story told
to keep the flame alive,
see that man? Really, son of a man,
he was just a boy, ready made warrior
from conquered locals, tamed by Crook.
Sam Swaskegame, died at Marne,
for my country,
five weeks before the
the holy day we celebrate,
to show our boys and girls,
this is why we fight,
so we can make heros to inspire you.
--------
Sam Swaskegame,
a member of the Hualapai Tribe,
who was killed
in action
at the Marne River campaign
battle of Blanc Mont, France
on October 7, 1918, …
35 days before the end of WWI
From <https://doughboysearcher.weebly.com/kingman-arizona.html>
------ There could be a picture here.
I played in the shadow of that grenade,
as a boy in the Boyett-Dancer Keltic Nordish clan,
I walked past the jail, almost every day,
and I was afraid of the men behind the bars.
I had seen some of them, drunk,
-- I was a child, they always laughed, when
I stood and listened to them rant,
like I understood a single word.
Sam Swaskegame, Sam
I am sure, I knew Sam, from Green Eggs.\
thus the war memorial,
E. M. Viquesney posed, the grenadier
same stance as Lady Liberty,
supposed to remind
us, the children born long after dead Indians
could be remembered as Doughboy's dads
and granddads and uncles
Sententious
"full of meaning" (a sense now obsolete);
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 8:31 PM UTC
---------------------------------------------------------------
Science friction, lies adversion to truths, too sacred
to unbelieve, beware the unforgivable sin… ah, see,
me and the reasoning we did, me and my kind, see,
we got these mind hats, we made up, my kind, see,
we can say out loud jesus is lord after we rooted out
Warden of the loaves, H'lafwearden, with v w accents
Keeper of the harvest, holder of the seed,
keeper of the reason, first fruits from harvest,
is kept for seed next season, common sense, thunk
as if we all once understood, we kinda do think alike.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 2:10 PM UTC
The epicentre of my pain ,indeed
Lives kilometres apart ,in plains
While my energy does not coherent to his
He denies as well
I wonder if he needs much of it or lesser a bit
Do I love much fiercer
Forever he jilts
Until the day I would to him
For no more would I resonate
I promise still,
I am going to miss the bond ,saturated
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 12:55 PM UTC
You wait for it
but it never comes.
Sometimes,
you feel like stopping,
you feel like giving up.
But how can you do that
when it’s the only thing
you've been wanting
all these years?
Tengo un corazón sediento.
And I want to get drunk.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC