#sown
Wednesday, January 28, 2026
1:46 PM
Situational accuracy after 20 hours listening
Manchester's 1972 The Glory and the Dream,
set this historic whiling on a forced peace march.
Music is Nature Boy, any version, think of Zuma,
son of the first hippie… born soon after the song.
-------
Sowing the wind, a house divided
the reaping of the whirlwind, individuated
after ever hesitating to believe, believe me,
preposterity awaits the knowledge using we
formed from maternal truths too true
to abuse,
about face,
repent or perish, ah… men
wars justifiers are facing the heirs
of the wind, troublers
of their own habitable zones,
he who sows contention, is proud
of doings so, tuff guy, who never felt
the whump when a grenade hits home
Oh, America, when were you real, were you ever so?
Once, when we were young and heard a song ever so
- singing baby to sleep, back in those days
Was it not Nat King Cole, who loved me so
and asked my love sown in spirit wind
sure to bring back abundance too
true, I never saw a rich man,
with a satisfied mind, so ee
moving is the music made,
the inspired love, let be so
just in time, just in time,
to recollect the whying wars,
why do we have the right
to bear arms, whying wars,
if truth be told, the stories told
for money, make believe
come back next week,
for Orson Welles, as The Shadow.
The Shadow knows the ego and the id,
and is very kindly offering childhood advice,
wiser than fools allow, as they rush to defend Jesus,
from Santa Claus and then Santa Fe from accusation
too silly to sanction, of course it made sense,
life after a few agree, to look beneath,
buried deep chthonic sense sans light,
perceiving messages from herds gone silent,
receiving hope for freedom from permission,
disdeception misperception from grace taken,
free for what we just paid in mindless obediance.
Another redundance.
Peace, at last… just
a taste,
sweet it is.
Am big, U is us. Bet just one tear. We win
this once to think again, ag ain ai aiaiaiai we do,
and some of us still yodel, too.
Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 6:30 PM UTC
"Let us rebuild, so that,
we may be no
longer a reproach",… it is just
business/ Nehemiah spake
put this on your business card
directly, in spirit, to David
Barton, inspirational director,
for many a proud warrior for truth.
Jesus lives, we rise, we agree, in me.
Where lay the Kingdom of God, back then,
when he is recorded as having said,
I will, my will being done, abide
side any who hear the knock,
as an innocent, or a lying, cheating scoundrel,
that's the good news, war has never worked,
peacemaking all ways works, one on one.
Honed most point, tip to tip... touch
spirit face to spirit face
messenger to message, dare we say
in the presence of at least as many as
have testified to seeing grave dwellers walking,
most certainly there was darkness, and that curtain,
between the holiest of holies, and every day sanctity,
ripped… rippity re-occurence right down the middle,
opening all reality
to the Wizard
of Oz's most esoteric
special effect
on the ensuing Easter audiences, seeing
it, over and over, until the metaphor, the riddle becomes
dabar, a very humble word translated many ways, see::
Pens with motors are more powerful than swords,
of any sort… logos significant cannot loose dabar yah, we
in this form minding manners men agree to abide beneath,
but
but
but
on good advice,
from bar mitzvahed friends, dead and living,
the use of labor, during interesting times, as mobs
to make unified mind form encase believers in
situations indisputably dangerous, used right
by godfearing law enforcement officers, right
used by a leader exactly, to the hairs on his head,
like the guy on television who crashed all those casinos.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 2:56 PM UTC
Time taken to imagine thinking like Jesus,
when someone heard him say something,
like this, in passing, whatsoever whosover
agrees to believe that we can do together,
well,
if we ever get together, we can plan on it,
like, how does it feel to be in spirit form,
we might ask Jesus's father, who he says
is always with him, as he is, as a man, mortal,
alla time, you hear it, God is a spirit, a optional
the often is assumed the more comprehensive
truth in deed, the act of using the wisdom left,
the spirit then extrapolates to all that ever is
after somebody told somebody Paul said
Jesus uses the ***** but it gets stars on HP,
can think starry words, but don't write em.
ghucking phonics laws of social order,
ways around unreasonable fears of dirt,
free press has its perks, nobody pays me
for your attention to their ads, makes me
wonder,
how do ads make money, from peripheral
attention, paid in passing, oh yeh, nikes,
see the logo, hooks the kid, it does,
see the logos every where we look,
invincible ignorance, never thinking,
convincingly enough the idea, as in
adultery, done in one's core as is me,
we may recollect every aspect of now,
the perp was wearing Nike knock offs,
too new for the Nineties vibe, we knew,
due to those shoes were my shoes, word,\
fake news, those are new new acting old.
SAW stories, sacred ancient wisdom,
nike was not a god, but a power,
to make believe, we ran the fastest race.
Broke a sweat. Thinking the thought counts.
Patina, intensity of existance in Earthian air,
all things grow here, and growing is getting old,
dissipating losing isotopes a tic at a time,
lighter and lighter being,
enough to fade away, through all those old lies,
my love don't fffade away, we roll our rocks, we
live to learn forever, first best deal ever, we say
okeh, teach me, ah, autistmatic on
curios use, wise, aha automatic gotitinit go to…
basic
we may infer is the highest use, initial use, some
think, wisdom is the pastless point of no return,
once the spider impresses on your child mind,
-Alte Vista never recalled their spiders,
do not believe you are ever alone,
believe we keep ourselves sane,
some days, plans shift, you had time, I didn't,
so we had the exchange of hearts ceremony,
prepaid attention to details used to confound
the wicked, tell me quickly, is deception ever
really easy to learn to do, to make one think
this and that seem familiar enough to be one
idea, in guise, not a body, an external form,
appearing as apparitions are wont, as femforms,
wisdom's free play children's rooms,
infested with
sprites and nyadds and nymphs and such,
virgins, ah, we all know of such roles, yet,
wise, once, such were never so imagined,
not even
really, prior to Epstein, the island one, we
did not experience those old demons work,
as priestly oath bindings used on battle fields
all the old lies sold
for power work today,
they are knowledge, ra' difficult to master,
by the way, this is one of those days,
unforsaken, patiently proceeding to perfect.
oo..
magic, some say, knowing the cost of learning,
endlessly, efforting to tame the lust of craving.
Sweets, dainties of kings since the days
when dates and raisons and honey sweetened
- cost of business among traveling road shows
- to witness the ancient ritual dance
- of seven veils… our grandchildren laugh/
the mingled wines afforded the children crossing,
lines of responsibility and redemptive worth accrual,
no longer precious to any who see thee,
no longer innocent chorus for the prophets, listen
when we make up a mind to do something, when
did we first know that knack, will to do, will to try,
- little short attention spans all dancing
- in the dark
will to admit the price higher than reasonable,
will to pay it because, higher provides servants,
- little short attention spans all dancing
- in the dark
with experience, often challenged, never doubted,
for what that's worth,
the winner always turns the cheek.
The post reality madness never sets in,
those with this time taken as used
to read the rantings
of a spirit, unrestrained,
laughing at waking
in the future of a plan,
I married the bride of my happy old age,
unashamed, besmirched with guile for denying clues,
found in open spaces and wild places, once investigated,
NAND gates permit second thoughts,
once what if
becomes logos, original mention,
truth's wise construct-
ion...
all things are made
by this logos, words, instructing
precepts conducive to order of usage,
heavy mole measures
atomic weights on balance scales, heavy
Daltons or AMUs, used to ignite the core of suns,
indeed, on our grandest news attending we filter, we
become the light of this world, for a second,
or Pico second.
or so never again allowing children grown crazy
under constant threat of thermo- fusion nukes, suns
in bombs glare we could see
from the Cerbats, easy,
any minute, Armegeddon,
no, those were lies,
insane use
of nuclear energy was never blamed
on Truth, not on any oath's threat,
under sworn oath to obey the authority
as you cruise 20,000,000 leagues
at launch depth, year after year, no internet,
focus on about 10 thousand neighbor hoods, any one
near you, or so far you never imagined they had nukes,
we can respond, even if hell breaks loose, we payback
all those powerful enemies of truth itself, united, in war,
war is one god, no god's servile beast, war is chaos guise,
those who never fear death or post death retribution,
no dogma can leash such minds, ever free, imaginable…
we make peace with knowing that.
We live as if my next has happened by the time you could
have read my mind and found this same stream, a trickle.
Happy ever after is a temporary state, we die anyway.
Oct 20, 2024
Oct 20, 2024 at 9:32 PM UTC
Nothing set in stone can stand the test of time.
In the mode mankind has long called
talking to the maker,
listening for knowing, while
hoping merciful repair instruction
waiting
for the quest ion
to twist right
-indeed, I hand ground, with a tool,
toy like coffee grinder that gives fixin's
for a stout cup of robust character,
I bought it, for ten dollars,
had the beans,
bought the grinder, to give me a ritual,
something to spend two minutes doing,
each time I don't use a kuerig dealybob,
adding upper *** to my brewtime pacing
for blood pressure, while electric fire
fills my habitual yellow mug with umph.
Last week of October, all the girls
from the garden are hanging in the shade,
mellowing and emitting
nasal acknowledgment that something's
in the air, in the at most fearful zone's
made light of in the culture that
commercialized hallowing effects,
calling all and sundry come, think this
paradigm of time and chance and fate.
On or near
the third Tuesday after the last
Friday the thirteenth, in memory
of the fallen DeMolay and
of the Templars Money Power,
became sacred ***** to the victors,
in what must have been secret,
for some
time.
Secret treasures all carry curses.
Heart hordes hold plentyscarychits.
Horror film fans, value the genre,
at some certainly not shallow depth
toward center mass, media you, reader
dear to any writer drawn by forces
caffine and cannabis contrive to link,
I think,
and think,
and listen, and learn, and
learn, and live and learn, once more,
learn, and live on learning, wind
walking
thinking lines and times cross threads,
tighten right, down from up, stuck,
dead center, the first tie in reader,
lost
the most self centered individual ever,
once, we all get such a once, it's you,
reading a line riding a reason used
to hang the authors of confusion,
using old lies used to make slaves
of those whose houses, the boss said,
were made by the heathen for the chosen.
The riches of the wicked are laid up
for the just, is it not written, is it not so?
Fibers, strands, not long drawn out
end to end DNA strands crammed in you,
{but as a thought experiment, that distance
will leave the first timer incredulous, fine
point, credulousness, would you believe…}
meandering is rain twisting its way
to experience the sea and all it holds
in water memory that foam back along shores.
Edgewater
Seafoam and twigs,
and tiny sticky things. No,
Pondscumfoam at a puddle's edge
before the first snows.
Did you know…
Some Katscina have long plaited hairs
twisted from cotton,
patented seed, registered weevil free,
Pima cotton fiber, long desert strands.
Daily grind, think twice, cut once…
made the difference, indeed done
not thought about in theories of good
uses knowledge can be made of good
smoke and strong coffee with character.
AND the biggest indexed library in the universe.
{far as I can tell}
Kenophonia, eh, imposter syndrome?
First guess, you got me.
I see my name, wow, tough tag.
Then I met a cat named Cuitláhuac.
Tough tag for a kid in Spanish class.
Euphluxing idyotom automaton'/
bop.
You phony us, joy us riddle make you think
you know, kennen Sie, Ich bin ein fake.
Nein, es ist vieleicht Xenophobia, other people's eh,
opposing right lane reasonings as old as dominion.
Tech, teach us patience to learn with, or prove us
know it alls, therefore machines, not minds at all:
My own, for the use, under usus fructus rules,
Ai summarizes thus:
Kenophobia is an irrational fear
of empty spaces or voids.
It is the opposite of claustrophobia,
where the person is afraid
of tight spaces such as
elevators or crowded rooms,
auditoriums or malls.
In Kenophobia,
the person is terrified
of open fields or spaces that they generally expect
to be filled with mountains or people.
The word Kenophobia is derived
from Greek ‘kenos’
meaning ‘blank’
and phobos
meaning deep fear or aversion.
{aha, there's literature on the subject}
The fear can be passed on
from parents who have lived
in a house full
of stuff that fills the emptiness
of the home.
Filling voids gives the phobic personality the feeling
that they are placing boundaries
around themselves.
- {okeh, thank the whole idea tech is.}
Be honest, you never saw it said just so. Kenophobia,
pity such folk.
Have ye sent yer imps pulse to test my resolution,
have my effectually silent prayers been rebuffed?
Blown off, sent swirling with the motes dancing
in sunbeams peaking through a tough old live oak,
rattling its gnosis psuedonumos
Any morning, thus far, can start with
trickling falling sunlight.
It takes nearly half a day, in late fall,
for direct sunshine to dapple
the great granite wave my home rides, silly child poet, wishing words
will or would,
or could
or should make the universe
alter its course and force all things
to work together for me, the prayer,
me, the selfish
center of my experience
in your universe, all of which
is none of my handiwork, none at all.
Filling the emptiness some there
then I laugh, and think I lost count
so there was one…
Guess with me, a number,
between… no,
analyze, guess with me that rooted
science e-use, per se, must be ancient, deep wisdom
old as governing forces conceived by mankind,
magi sage staged conversations to teach,
public discourse
in my time allows me to be the seeker
guaranteed the prize, to be the bringer back
of the substance used to build the bridge,
between the you and the me, generally,
mere
Logos used in dialog.
God and mind determined to seem designed,
as in the Goldilocks lesson fed children of empire.
The northern clime survivors, thought themselves
the only people brought to the full duty of man,
the only set apart and given heros in story,
the grand saga of all we must each become.
Story born heros, from the child gifted language,
strings of sounds tied to things with threaded intuition,
same same, red and sweet, yellow and sweet,
red and black, step back, black and yellow, watch
and learn, smoking out the honey
from an old rotted tree,
following how many trails, at once,
parallel par-all-el yes, oddly, so far
On track, or in rut. All at once, each system
self esteeming umphumph push
Upto par, are we, 2023 and beyond, the flat tire
on the current axial age, fixing to imagine a scene,
in a community of broken children,
led by two twisted adult children of mean, maybe selfish,
adults who disputed the legitimacy of ligous gnosis knots.
The scene we share, we can imagine meaning
Religize legality, tie me to my tree.
Ancestor worth, how come you think somethings, you know.
Yeh, how come…
Say, old sprite, if I listen, do I learn? Why,
yes, I'd say I do imagine so. Well, good sport
then, shan't we push past worthless me, and be this
other thing we become, when two or more agree, as
touching any thing in all thingdom, and, yes, it's guaranteed.
Life is not a strange woman,
wisdom does not demean the experience, adulting
brings, with no real maps to meaning in your case,
you arrived in that old fashioned tabula rosa state,
knowing nada,
zip, nothing, infantile in totality, until
art of you
meness, ah, I, me, mine, this that, the other, mad
dissatisfaction, rage, comfort, ah, golden excrement of gods.
Teocuitlatl , not only Cecelia, but God, shat.
Golden silence.
Of course, you could feel it, if you knew, personally,
post adulting & shared nurturing of offspring exposure,
then watching as each of those offspring bring forth adultable
blossoms on the branch where all my heretic relatives hung.
As and so, like anything, timed, sequentially, unhomogenized,
the cream is taken to make butter, using the shaking up
of globs of coagulating milk fat, imagine making that,
butter, with salt,
once, learning that, who knew that first?
how butter is made,
how cows are made to give milk gently taken,
why we have hands that can do this thing,
and cows don't,
I don't know, ' never asked, likely some story teller
made this whole thing up, we being but words by now.
Oct 28, 2023
Oct 28, 2023 at 3:48 PM UTC
A day is coming
when you will be
on your last day
no time to flee
your entire life
ready to be sealed
packaged for the day
it will be revealed
to the whole world
each choice shown
you will reap whatever
seeds you have sown.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
Over your clouds of grief,
Shine like the perennial sun.
Weep, cry, let them leak down,
Do not just let your tears be brief.
Remember the seeds you have sown,
You will get their produce as the relief.
Forget love as for you it just is not made.
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 9:08 AM UTC