#offering - Hello Poetry

All day... magi logic 0n time, out of non-time, once and once and once and once first time last time next time now, how useless is the time saved with utilized patience waiting for the starting gun, on the dot, go. Letters all aligned right. Living words and idle words, alike and not alike, active empty I am aware of myself disconnected from anything actually otherworldly or plain unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable. A sense, a feeling a little message unclear, sent from some chron job running later ------------ I have no memory of a time this is like. I am aware other people exist without me, knowing anything related to you, imagined reader, entertained held among the living by chance at tension coherency here at once, stickiness holding wholesale ad copy calling attentions, set at hold on, beheld by the beholding one enough good sense to reach out, a root to make a way where no way was, dying to make an otherwise dead seed feed future creatures drawn to the shine… sunny day, yuccas about to bloom, candles, those are called candles of the warden of the loaves/ h'læf-vveardon, our guard/ keeper of the grain. Poor people real people, or rich, all breathe the same air, and think at once as if making time tie thoughts where all thought to ask… or say out loud, why are we born on this side of that war for liberty… come all accumulated sneezes in threes all among us how often sneeze in threes spirit of just enough, yucca agave wise Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame O no r u a me? On or uame me me me is it I or we who sit and listen, and think a name we know,\ listen if some bird has said almost it, say see, hear, this time, Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame is there honor, hearing how we whistle, here inside our logically led head, we said. Vow not all, bind your self to truth. Art, being thou artistic and not good at it, or may being my own word, lo' these decades now, I may say I am plural me, we receive hope from cottonwood trees, water there being plenty good, no extra good, just enough and enough to share, should some hungry ghost happen to perk our ears, hear us as a hawk sings in passing signaling any with ears, mice listen… and men acknowledge… any attention paid is paid on recognition. Haps as may happen every day, some to me. Pursuing any catching my fancy nonverbal curiosity, any chance taken, is grace at work. By all rights, belonging to any who may hold the very breeze of best wishes in his two hands. And let it fly with thanks tied to its tale retold.

0

Mar 27

Mar 27, 2026 at 7:17 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Here, in time

All day... magi logic 0n time, out of non-time, once and once and once and once first time last time next time now, how useless is the time saved with utilized patience waiting for the starting gun, on the dot, go. Letters all aligned right. Living words and idle words, alike and not alike, active empty I am aware of myself disconnected from anything actually otherworldly or plain unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable. A sense, a feeling a little message unclear, sent from some chron job running later ------------ I have no memory of a time this is like. I am aware other people exist without me, knowing anything related to you, imagined reader, entertained held among the living by chance at tension coherency here at once, stickiness holding wholesale ad copy calling attentions, set at hold on, beheld by the beholding one enough good sense to reach out, a root to make a way where no way was, dying to make an otherwise dead seed feed future creatures drawn to the shine… sunny day, yuccas about to bloom, candles, those are called candles of the warden of the loaves/ h'læf-vveardon, our guard/ keeper of the grain. Poor people real people, or rich, all breathe the same air, and think at once as if making time tie thoughts where all thought to ask… or say out loud, why are we born on this side of that war for liberty… come all accumulated sneezes in threes all among us how often sneeze in threes spirit of just enough, yucca agave wise Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame O no r u a me? On or uame me me me is it I or we who sit and listen, and think a name we know,\ listen if some bird has said almost it, say see, hear, this time, Onorúame Onorúame Onorúame is there honor, hearing how we whistle, here inside our logically led head, we said. Vow not all, bind your self to truth. Art, being thou artistic and not good at it, or may being my own word, lo' these decades now, I may say I am plural me, we receive hope from cottonwood trees, water there being plenty good, no extra good, just enough and enough to share, should some hungry ghost happen to perk our ears, hear us as a hawk sings in passing signaling any with ears, mice listen… and men acknowledge… any attention paid is paid on recognition. Haps as may happen every day, some to me. Pursuing any catching my fancy nonverbal curiosity, any chance taken, is grace at work. By all rights, belonging to any who may hold the very breeze of best wishes in his two hands. And let it fly with thanks tied to its tale retold.