#peacemaker
So likewise ye,
when ye shall have done
all those things which are commanded you,
say,
We are unprofitable servants:
we have done that which was our duty to do.
You, lazy little 'twerdnerd. Easy. Live. Take my truth,
let this mind be in you, it does the hard part for you.
Ai ai ai this guy, I tol' you, extol the road,
ride on, cowboy.
Let go. Re
laxation,
enemystic, plop. Plot to end
with a thousand swings
gnosis-not-burger 'n' fries
swung wide and low. Sweet cherry '63.
Once belonged to the gayest geometry teacher
ever, eh, in Kingman, Arizona.
Mr. Zubek, annual faculty advisor to Optimist Club,
Annual (also)Highschool Boys Speech Contest,
bi- annually, he traded in his Chevrolet.
-- voice of experience,
That triggered this then, not now
I saw a ****** lowrider, brand new, showroom floor,
yep, a certain mind set, kept with odd links,
missed opportunities to go the other way,
kicks the BTDT system of old ahas,
and ahs,
as once imagined…
not possible, pre dementia.
Wait for it, should you live so long,
it all runs together beautifully, to match
the beauty of the messenger's feet,
in your cultural awareness
of total unknowing- to eternity,
and beyond.
The Bill and Ted Trilogy, vs Left Behind.
So, crates of lemons have no thorns. See,
Lemon trees have big ol' thorns, but
lemon wreaths, all on a bough snipped,
thorns and all, to show those who never
picked a lemon, and won life's sweetest point.
Such wreaths are December treasures,
if you know where they grow 'em.
You can sell them, or give them away,
the beauty in the whole fruiting sprig goes along.
May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 1:27 AM UTC
Hearing history whisper in the background
in an aural realm
I hear enkidu bled
ink
to fill the pens
of ready writers after
ever
lasting word
forms
a name
Enki, wisdom and life
flowing
into length of days
ancient
days
long
remembered, visited
in daydreams
featuring
all that may have been,
then.
Some soporific drink drunk
in old Uruk
vicareate, those in lieau of you.
Dying for you to go into the
realm
of knowns past
knowing knowns now in this
realm
make your mind reach mine.
Stand under my lines and
lean toward joy
good and calm,
gentle waves of peace
swirling fibrating threads
forming
woven things, matrices,
see the points crossed over
and under,
see the edges wound around,
to keep the rubbing of
reality from fraying ends.
did the fingers gno the math,
the ciphers we see
in carpets woven by magi
families
for centuries, ere
The Prophet were told to Read,
and he refused
to learn,
but chose to teach that which
an angel of light,
warned against by Paul the Gnostic Jew,
taught? Told to read, but never learning to do it, because angel said,
say exactly what i say...
Teachers once learned by teaching, but
never has reading been masterd
sans
sensibility of the graphemes
re
presenting the noises
common in every human ear
hearing in
sapience, abruptly
Hear!
Easy to be entreated. You have ears?
Hear.
How is never asked, why is clear; ears hear,
we all have ears.
Not all ears hear.
But eyes can learn to read, with some effort.
I magine it your task. You the first speaker of your
magic tongue-lung-teeth-lips, epiglot-tonsil-nasal
noise making system, engineered
to permit
song in accord with this, our shared realm of
noises, common.
Ha. This tale of an angel telling a messenger to read,
is this a famous story? Have I not learned of a war being
waged,
i.e. fought with stand-ins paid to fight, live or die.
Soldiers formed from hearers of empty songs
stretched to cover eyes, as well,
push and pull, hot and cold, balance value
weight and worth
imagine knowing no written tongue
you, dear reader, this book of lives in life per se,
who could see this coming?
Papyrii and clay and stone
cities are inventions of men
men who would be kings
imagined
delegating
knack for knack *** for tat
this for that all
for me,
the man wombed or un who would be
like the most high god I can imagine
ah the danger of falling into anachronism
you first must imagine, dear reader, that
writing is an invention
intended to bher the burden of learning to
remember, really,
no po'etic license claimed or blamed
famine of the written word
negates not the worth of rhyme and dance
masques and noises of roaring bulls
thrumming, thundering herds
screaming hawks, squeeling rabbits,
caw
cawing crows or ravens if that
distinction is
ever
necessary...
as the story is told, some time after ever starts.
This has been a chapter in our history,
dear reader from the times before the pictures
were scratched on the rock Sisyphus rolls.
Twixt now and then lies a realm of stories locked in idle words
never written for never having a reader
who grasped the message to the prophet,
read.
-----
Uruk, was there a ****** who watched you rise and learned
to make a city sufficiently
enslaving to raise a king from the son of a king
to the level of luxury allowing
reading all that writing demands
suggestive is the fact that the written word for C2H5OH
is a spirit ual thing caught in a word
as old as the earliest writing
remaining
alcohol, spoken now, would call for a drink in old Uruk and Akkad,
as would reference to kohl warm eyes,
be cool
as are we all, we living words spoken in times past,
listing in lusting vacuums of empty songs
ah, you shall not surely die, poor Gilga-
mesh, the net
spread in your sight, you never thought
networking and weaving were skills teachable, thus
this witty idea, the best potter makes only one pattern of ***
all for me,
I take them a ll and feed the potter meat. Mighty hunter, am I.
I feed many with one mammoth
I am worthy of all they make with strength taken as granted
while chewing the carcass of my
****
--- here it comes,
civilization---
things in abundance might be made,
and traded
for
that which we lack the knack to make
so soon does some medium of exchange manifest
as witty inventions emerge from seeds carried from the garden
How? Now, off-scour, **** of the earth, us-all,
poor you have with you always,
we, the feeble-but-not-un-minded, people, whisper
when we sing,
shuffle when we dance, fly when we dream
and live until we die and leave mere words to live ever after in the wind,
making peace for the heirs of the earth.
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 2:45 PM UTC
God's thoughts are claimed unthinkable
correctly by a man, but there is a way
a man
may,
however,
imagine he can. Amen. Amen?
Higher than the earth,
above all we can think or ask,
God's thoughts are said to be,
yond all a man can imagine.
Yet I do, imagine God thinks, if anything, at all.
In my thought, a child emerges in the midst,
thinking round and round,
up and down, this way and that
what if
some how, we think, this child in me,
and I , we think
Off the tight line from here to there,
God's thoughts must be
every where
we can think,
tighter
up and down and all around,
through solid ground and
non-empty space.
Minds are bubbles, let us say,
God's thought are not up above us
exceeding both our reach and grasp.
but nearer, being here, in the bubble
where we live, and move, and have our
being.
Seeing the never hidden
is not revelation,
it is ignorance, ceasing.
Peace,
be with us, everyone.
Time shall tell if this fixed that.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 2:50 PM UTC
Transform me, dear child
Show me your visions
Help me find Hope in my name.
For I've been listening
To Peacelessness in my veins.
Your time here isn't done
Battles rage without a single one won
The Lies reach past fingertips
And Truth is painfully shy.
Please restore my faith.
Say those kind words you always manage to say.
People crane their necks
For leaders left and right
But you and I know
Leadership moves forward
With flashlight eyes in the night.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
he smiles to create the world's golden happiness
his laughter opens the confused, rainy skies
he's the one to love more than the heavy drops in the ocean
he looks with heart-felt eyes as deep as the hidden valleys below his feet
he lives to change the clashing towns surrounding
his love eases wars stirring about in the distance
he amazes my personal beliefs repeatedly
for this world he lives for
happens to be me
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC