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#stephen
Spukhafte Fernwirkung// -ping On the morning of March 16, 1968, American soldiers from "C" Company came into the village of My Lai… -Conti's testimony, he stayed Second tour he got arrested, he was an armorer for First Cav, I know a guy who knew him when he got arrested, on duty. About 1970, before Cambodia. Back at the itch to think about 1968 from 16 MAR 68, spooky was a DC3 with six miniguns, spending nickles by the ton. spukhafte Fernwirkung// -ping The next day, these toes on the end of me, touched the tarmac at Bien Hoa, beginning this memory of instants, impressionistic at best, something like YouTube shorts taken from chronological context to fit the news between ads for aging related aches and pains past and present. mehr spukhafte Fernwirkung// -ping In my 20 year old self, in quest of lines showing duty done, on my political career Résumé of fitness to lead, to me being mentored by Newt, in American History, as he saw it, true, Newt forsaw the EMP threat, and scored an audience of told yous, proud to have learned bullet making after school… at the NRA clubhouse. und mehr// -ping ping ping Triumphs and Indians, ' never saw a flathead Harley until the summer of 1969, I saw the wreck, a Harley wrung young Jimmie Hudgins neck, and he lived, but he never went with us who did, and came back as different as night and day, other people, through and through, truly on another trail, beyond the reason used in war. fur spukhafte Fernwirkung we took to spirit warring, with quarks on our side, holding this thought Pop, we inhabit bubbles as big as we imagine. I long believed we live in bubbles of all we know. I was wrong. Become unmazed, unentangled, literally free to define what you leave be true, testy, feisty, wanna fight? Or phuckaround with physics and spells, Hallowed has meaning, yet, amen? Even odds, live to the end… Revelation See, I had been infected, seeing as I held memories and lines, I took for testimony Stephen Crane put to ink, made me link that now, not then, to a canvas, Ms. Butler's Roll Call, any one approaching the age where children are taken for war, National Religio Significado duty accepted as each pledged aliegiance, under God, or else the communist spectre brought unspeakable horrors of HIROSHIMA! Downwinder's loved to watch the flashes - line on crypto classification; - subject locus south of river On my DD 214, I was eligible to live on Partaking of Largesse I earned by being still alive and secretly, something of National Pride Proving Passage right, my nation, now, pays me to breathe, and learn until I die or ever happens, Popt to your situation, reading not involved, after all way beyond ever after that revelation, this is it, we did not die, nowhat, Put on this mind, think these words, you are you at last phaze myelination, or your signals are phading, but we got clear text 5 by 5, read on seem a survivor of a specified exposure to war, a year, was deemed enough, and enough to share on circumstantial instances when you think okeh, what good could I do if I accepted the truth of the tree of knowledge teaching only permanently through experience passed through and seen from this side… so then I freely say, I know, what this is… my life's cache of idle words, accounted for, and activated wise decision weighs against luck, choosing liberal arts and sciences to become a force made right by the blood of Jesus to fight any enemy so declared, by God's local employees and the men He arranged to be shaped into wielders o f carnal weapons, so awesome cost for the risk not taken 2024 chances, short odds of the answering invention's wise domain above all answering witty inventions used - to blow our little holy relics to dust to make boys believe there is glory found in fighting for Nobel aspirations, for asking noble questions, much glory -+- does peace made with words earn, to deal with all ra' adversity to intricately, functionally beautiful towb be left to become the message. God's chosen Nation's policy of people use. {https://www.rct.uk/collection/405915/the-roll-call}
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Oct 26, 2024
Oct 26, 2024 at 6:44 PM UTC
Souvenier Memories
Spukhafte Fernwirkung// -ping On the morning of March 16, 1968, American soldiers from "C" Company came into the village of My Lai… -Conti's testimony, he stayed Second tour he got arrested, he was an armorer for First Cav, I know a guy who knew him when he got arrested, on duty. About 1970, before Cambodia. Back at the itch to think about 1968 from 16 MAR 68, spooky was a DC3 with six miniguns, spending nickles by the ton. spukhafte Fernwirkung// -ping The next day, these toes on the end of me, touched the tarmac at Bien Hoa, beginning this memory of instants, impressionistic at best, something like YouTube shorts taken from chronological context to fit the news between ads for aging related aches and pains past and present. mehr spukhafte Fernwirkung// -ping In my 20 year old self, in quest of lines showing duty done, on my political career Résumé of fitness to lead, to me being mentored by Newt, in American History, as he saw it, true, Newt forsaw the EMP threat, and scored an audience of told yous, proud to have learned bullet making after school… at the NRA clubhouse. und mehr// -ping ping ping Triumphs and Indians, ' never saw a flathead Harley until the summer of 1969, I saw the wreck, a Harley wrung young Jimmie Hudgins neck, and he lived, but he never went with us who did, and came back as different as night and day, other people, through and through, truly on another trail, beyond the reason used in war. fur spukhafte Fernwirkung we took to spirit warring, with quarks on our side, holding this thought Pop, we inhabit bubbles as big as we imagine. I long believed we live in bubbles of all we know. I was wrong. Become unmazed, unentangled, literally free to define what you leave be true, testy, feisty, wanna fight? Or phuckaround with physics and spells, Hallowed has meaning, yet, amen? Even odds, live to the end… Revelation See, I had been infected, seeing as I held memories and lines, I took for testimony Stephen Crane put to ink, made me link that now, not then, to a canvas, Ms. Butler's Roll Call, any one approaching the age where children are taken for war, National Religio Significado duty accepted as each pledged aliegiance, under God, or else the communist spectre brought unspeakable horrors of HIROSHIMA! Downwinder's loved to watch the flashes - line on crypto classification; - subject locus south of river On my DD 214, I was eligible to live on Partaking of Largesse I earned by being still alive and secretly, something of National Pride Proving Passage right, my nation, now, pays me to breathe, and learn until I die or ever happens, Popt to your situation, reading not involved, after all way beyond ever after that revelation, this is it, we did not die, nowhat, Put on this mind, think these words, you are you at last phaze myelination, or your signals are phading, but we got clear text 5 by 5, read on seem a survivor of a specified exposure to war, a year, was deemed enough, and enough to share on circumstantial instances when you think okeh, what good could I do if I accepted the truth of the tree of knowledge teaching only permanently through experience passed through and seen from this side… so then I freely say, I know, what this is… my life's cache of idle words, accounted for, and activated wise decision weighs against luck, choosing liberal arts and sciences to become a force made right by the blood of Jesus to fight any enemy so declared, by God's local employees and the men He arranged to be shaped into wielders o f carnal weapons, so awesome cost for the risk not taken 2024 chances, short odds of the answering invention's wise domain above all answering witty inventions used - to blow our little holy relics to dust to make boys believe there is glory found in fighting for Nobel aspirations, for asking noble questions, much glory -+- does peace made with words earn, to deal with all ra' adversity to intricately, functionally beautiful towb be left to become the message. God's chosen Nation's policy of people use. {https://www.rct.uk/collection/405915/the-roll-call}
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142
I took a crow's attention from Mt. Fuji--- and now feel stupid * Rain pachinkos down through neon characters: GOOD NOODLES HERE * When I die I hope all my dreams were recorded onto DVD * Dear Moon, hold still! The owl has just started its song * When you return--- come thru the garden, I've grown something sweet for you * I watch ostrich play tic-tac-toe in the sand * In frosting silence, sharp things become smooth if kept in the sky long enough * Lying on the earth, transparent katydids crouch on my face---thru them, I watch the Milky Way * The deaf church cricket who is afraid of heights * As I am someone else's opinion, I try to understand myself as a stranger. I am familiar because of the strangeness. *
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Aug 15, 2020
Aug 15, 2020 at 4:30 PM UTC
Excerpt no. 2 from Senryu & Apercu
An  artificial  planet was  being  ready in  space. Already  a  sun was  in  space which    was producing  energy   by  Einstein theory. But   it  is  to  see the  implementation  of theory  of  Black  Hole  of Stephen   Hawkins.
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Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 10:21 AM UTC
Artificial Planet
STEPHEN HAWKING PASSED AWAY A GOLIATH OF MANKIND WHAT A BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING WITH AN ADVENTUROUS INQUISITIVE MIND WITH HIS PASSION FOR SCIENCE AND HIS LOVE FOR OUT OF SPACE HIS CONCERN FOR MAN AND THE EXISTENCE OF THE HUMAN RACE WITH A HEART OF GOLD AND A LOVE OF ALL THAT WAS KIND WITHOUT HIS PRESENCE AMONG US OUR FUTURE IS HARD TO FIND HE THOUGHT OF WHAT COULD BE AND SAW THE STRENGTH IN US ALL HE HOPED THAT MAN WOULD CARRY ON BEFORE WE ALL WOULD FALL STEPHEN HAWKING WILL ALWAYS BE CLOSE AND NOT TO FAR FOR HIS SOUL WILL LIVE FOR EVER MORE IN EVERY SHINING STAR
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
STEPHEN HAWKING
A mind so brilliant Genius that's consilient Everyone thought he'd die but he was resilient But he crafted a legacy that's so transilient It's almost impossible to match These hateful comments that he achieved nothing and will go to hell Don't worry, stay in your thatch Nobody will remember you there Nobody will hear your blares You crafted your own mare In the name of struggle Take a deeper look into the mirror after your mouthwash guggle And tell me what you have accomplished People won't have time for you're always angry or complaining In his words he couldn't omit But he found a way to transmit Across all ears and minds Perishing on Einstein's birthday Such a Genius is hard to find We'll never be able to replace him Our race didn't deserve a Man like him The day felt much more grim Without his brilliance flying out of the whim
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Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC
Mind So Brilliant
A modern day Renaissance Man Is a scientist who can feel without a theory Who can theorise without feeling Seperate, his emotions and logic lie But together when needed again Crafting himself a world that is both beautiful And efficient So Einstein's violin let light be made constant So Hawking's humour let black holes be radiant So Leonardo's paintings let machines be made So let my words My notes My voice Lead to the latter Onto the new
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Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 2:31 AM UTC
The gift of a scientist
You were born in the mist Of a worldwide ****** war, Shielded in the town of Oxford No one would have known, Who came to light On a random winter’s day, And would have studied darkness To humanity’s bewilderment And science dismay. Who could have envisaged A modest run-of-the-mill boy, Having troubles reading would pass From studying clocks and radios To figure how they work, To later toy with physics Identify the laws, Of a universe beginning With a silent bang. A singularity unfolding Ever-expanding space, Projecting multiverse odds Stretching theories of strings, To unfathomable infinity Countless possibilities. I fell upon you by hazard Listening to your alas robotic voice, Notions of evanescence and chaos Information lost forevermore, In deep mystifying black holes Only to reach the end, Of an article explaining The genius you were recognised Even when you were wrong. Sustaining a verity You humbly would recant, Thirty years later tell the world Indeed energy survives and is returned, To cosmos under a radiation They now call by your name, For there are no “eternal prisons” Not in space nor in your wheelchair. Your alacrity showed humanity so By flying in a zero gravity zone, Defying the physics constraining your body An endless fervent hope, I dare Share with you. For one day To travel space and understand A theory encompassing all, Started studying cosmology All because of you.
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
Missing Hawking
It was heard in every place The tragic loss of a man of thought, A researcher of time and space, A down to earth astronaut. But he wasn’t “down to earth”, Instead he was quite the opposite Incredible ideas and theories A creativity that would never quit He’d stand on the shoulders of giants He stands even though he sits. He’s Superman in a floating space station And though he lost at quantum chess, His ideas are heard in every nation Of a great man, you would expect no less. So how do we cope you may ask? How does one recover in a world so weary, Well surprisingly enough he gave us the answer. It’s his Hawking Radiation Theory. Hawking radiation weakens a black hole But this is more than just celestial entities. It can describe coping as a whole. Or instead coping as a hole, you see. Like his theory, grief diminishes over time. We learn to move on and remember. We write the legacy he built in his prime. And we make a flame from the dying ember. A flame! A beacon! To light the future and radiate through all of creation. Radiate through all of time! Now that’s Hawking Radiation.
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
Hawking Radiation
The best figment of the imagination Is the one where the dreams are actually real The pessimists line up Like it's Black Tuesday To tell you otherwise Because they've been followed by Pennywise All their lives And they can't seem to lose him for good
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Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 8:44 PM UTC
Figment
"Steve" is a diamond geezer "Stevie" can do no wrong "Stephen" is in real trouble But they all just want to get along So whatever you think of him Whenever he comes into sight He'll give you a hug and he'll buy you a drink And you'll be in for a heck of a night
0
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 5:06 AM UTC
What's in a name?
The nights have become the most difficult (Never sleep again, never rest again) To manage. Deeper, dreadfully I soar into what I do not believe, Into a pain much too real And much more haunting Than I have ever experienced. The ghosts are back, Stephen, They have returned to become the captain Of my being, To lust and breed and **** again. I feign interest And parry their blows back Though my defenses are falling And the blanket on my bed Is never, (Never sleep, never lay) Ever quite long enough to cover me. My worries today Are an overheating boiler, *(COME QUICK I NEED HELP I'M DYING HERE)* Pumping steam and pressure Out of my jagged edges. It is getting harder and harder to breathe. Do you believe in God, Stephen? I know Kubrick called you and asked the same Many years before my birth, But today I need your answer more than ever, In that my every move seems to propel me Into many-a-numbered Ceiling and wall traps And I am being crushed, (Never sleep, never rest) Soiled and trampled at the hand of fate. I once thought myself too intelligent to believe, But now I need a higher faith If only to know that darkness is never truly darkness And the candles I have left burning in my body Will never be blown out. Did you really see that boy, That childhood friend of yours Struck down by a train In your ever so tender youth? Was his blood and brain matter What came to you in your darkest hour As you wrote about presidential suites And Danny Torrance seeing reverse ****** Played out in front of him for eternity? Is ****** played out for eternity in your mind, Too? (Do you Shine, Stephen?) They taught us about you in school, Stephen. They made you out to be a God in yourself, A novel machine Intent on overpowering the industry For your own gain and prosperity. But those who read you, (Those who know, those who feel) Know you as a human. You spirit, you singer, You light of my life, (You twisted man, you monster, you seer of sights) You have kept the world alive With sparks and shines Under eyelids For decades. Stephen, I have stuck my hand in the wasp nest again. Bring me your salvation. Bring me (Your understanding, your writer-virtue.) And so I write to you today, A young girl of but 18 With her own Shine set to murderous visions And Terrifying conundrums. My ghosts follow swiftly in my foot trails And your novels warm my lap as I try (So hard, so) Desperately To hear your voice, Bellowing with contempt, Your tone so monotonous and Matter of fact, Even when speaking of such malicious things I have to stop children from buying your movies at my job Because I could get in trouble if they see Jack Torrance kissing a decaying woman Or Carrie being burned alive in her prayer closet. *(I could get in trouble with the law If they see the truth you speak, The tales of loss and preservation you weave.)* Because of you and the horror you have struck me with, I leave the lights on. I am fearful (But so hopeful) Within myself each day. Because of you I have seen men and women Find peace Within their own private Overlook Hotels Housed deep and high In the mountains of their own consciousness. Because of you I have found *(Breathe in, breathe out, Nothing to see here)* Solace In my self-contained Madness.
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
An Open Letter to Stephen King
The nights have become the most difficult (Never sleep again, never rest again) To manage. Deeper, dreadfully I soar into what I do not believe, Into a pain much too real And much more haunting Than I have ever experienced. The ghosts are back, Stephen, They have returned to become the captain Of my being, To lust and breed and **** again. I feign interest And parry their blows back Though my defenses are falling And the blanket on my bed Is never, (Never sleep, never lay) Ever quite long enough to cover me. My worries today Are an overheating boiler, *(COME QUICK I NEED HELP I'M DYING HERE)* Pumping steam and pressure Out of my jagged edges. It is getting harder and harder to breathe. Do you believe in God, Stephen? I know Kubrick called you and asked the same Many years before my birth, But today I need your answer more than ever, In that my every move seems to propel me Into many-a-numbered Ceiling and wall traps And I am being crushed, (Never sleep, never rest) Soiled and trampled at the hand of fate. I once thought myself too intelligent to believe, But now I need a higher faith If only to know that darkness is never truly darkness And the candles I have left burning in my body Will never be blown out. Did you really see that boy, That childhood friend of yours Struck down by a train In your ever so tender youth? Was his blood and brain matter What came to you in your darkest hour As you wrote about presidential suites And Danny Torrance seeing reverse ****** Played out in front of him for eternity? Is ****** played out for eternity in your mind, Too? (Do you Shine, Stephen?) They taught us about you in school, Stephen. They made you out to be a God in yourself, A novel machine Intent on overpowering the industry For your own gain and prosperity. But those who read you, (Those who know, those who feel) Know you as a human. You spirit, you singer, You light of my life, (You twisted man, you monster, you seer of sights) You have kept the world alive With sparks and shines Under eyelids For decades. Stephen, I have stuck my hand in the wasp nest again. Bring me your salvation. Bring me (Your understanding, your writer-virtue.) And so I write to you today, A young girl of but 18 With her own Shine set to murderous visions And Terrifying conundrums. My ghosts follow swiftly in my foot trails And your novels warm my lap as I try (So hard, so) Desperately To hear your voice, Bellowing with contempt, Your tone so monotonous and Matter of fact, Even when speaking of such malicious things I have to stop children from buying your movies at my job Because I could get in trouble if they see Jack Torrance kissing a decaying woman Or Carrie being burned alive in her prayer closet. *(I could get in trouble with the law If they see the truth you speak, The tales of loss and preservation you weave.)* Because of you and the horror you have struck me with, I leave the lights on. I am fearful (But so hopeful) Within myself each day. Because of you I have seen men and women Find peace Within their own private Overlook Hotels Housed deep and high In the mountains of their own consciousness. Because of you I have found *(Breathe in, breathe out, Nothing to see here)* Solace In my self-contained Madness.
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This is the ladder---your first steps into the height. There are no apples. There are no angels. There is only broken shadow and socket; a rounded house of milk and voltage. Now, as you unscrew the bulb with fingertips, listen for the sand. It is sand from ancestral beaches were all families of glass have been blown. A beach where dinosaurs are continually struck by lightning. Continue swiveling until the blown-out bulb is free from the ceiling. Come down, but do not look down. Use the eye in each shoe to find the lower rungs. Place the old bulb in with the dish of pears. The new carton of bulbs are close by, sleeping. Unwrap a fresh bulb from its onionskin pajamas and ascend the same ladder previous. Using your musical hand, insert the threaded end up into the unthreaded beginning. Turn gently in the direction of sunrise until snug. Pull the chain, for the light of God's echoing equation will now sing. Squint and descend.
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
CHANGING A LIGHTBULB after Julio Cortazar