I've used them on my windows
To see the clear outside,
If I read the Op-eds,
I shudder, shuttered and hide.

I've spread them 'neath my plates and cups,
My shelves all neat and tidy;
But the headlines made it clear to me
My glass is more half empty.

They had a place in the litter box
For **** to scratch and squat;
I laid them round my garden plants,
They made fine insect traps.
Rolled and twirled they'd start a fire,
I could fold them into hats.
They cleaned the grease from BBQs,
And they're safe to pick up glass.
Crumple them for packaging,
They work as school book covers;
Add water and some flour,
To shape papier mache lovers.
Fold seeds in them to germinate,
Then use them for compost;
There's many ways to employ
Your Times and local Post.

But I won't subscribe to Dailies
For the felling of our trees;
And yet I miss my papers,
And the ways they worked for me.
But when enthroned,
You'll hear me grouse,
There's no **** paper in this ****-house.

My cell works well to scroll and swipe,
But it's only good for a virtual wipe.

July 4th is a Holiday filled with celebration,
Complete with BBQs and Fireworks
And exclamations of "Happy Independence day"
But people seem to fail to add the asterisk at the end
The hidden meaning, the fine print, the text between the lines if you will.
Because July 4th is not everyones's independence day.
July 4th only signifies the independence of a particular group of people
A group of people who fought for their freedom, but didn't allow it in their own back yards.
When these people were out celebrating their independence, my ancestors, my family, where in fields, working, in houses trying to stay alive
My women trying to stay away from their masters ****** them-
Whoops, sorry, I meant "Celebrating."
So what reason do I have to call July 4th my independence day?
If anything, my independence day is December 16th, the ratification of the 13th amendment
Or Juneteenth
Or January 1st, the day that the emancipation proclamation was ratified.
So while everyone else is celebrating the New Year, I think about what else that day has brought
Brought about the freedom of a people, my people.
Made them citizens, made them real, made them free.
Well, kinda free.
We've come so far.
And of course, I am not trying to blame white people today for what happened in the past, they should not be held accountable for the actions of the people from whom they've descended
But instead I want my black brothers and sisters to think, to remember, where we are coming from.
So yes, I hope everyone has a happy independence day*
Just keep in mind that it's not mine.

Wander of a Summer's night whilst swimming in the energy of neighborhood folk playing at the park in a bathe of warm dusk air,

Nightfall blankets the chatter and laughter of friends a like with whistles fluttering off thy breath to the tune of their pitter patter against the mat of green grass all perfectly groomed...

For soccer matches and picnics, plus the occasional BBQs or to this present moment an evening dog walk, tails wagging.

AUSTRALIA DAY, BY THE BBQ



CHEER CHEER FOR THE CROWD YS SEE

THE PEOPLE WHO COME TO YOUR BBQ

YOU SEE YOU COOK SAUSAGES A VERY NICE COLD COKE

AND EACH MAN HAS BEER

YEAH YOU SEE EVERYONE YOU SEE WILL PARTY YESEREE

YEAH IT’S ANOTHER AUSTRALIA DAY BY THE BBQ

I BRING OUT 6 ESKIES WITH 400 BEERS

THIS WILL MAKE THE MEN HAPPY

OH BLODDY ****** DEAR

YOU SEE, THERE IS A FEW WELL DONE STEAKS AND A FEW EGG AND BACON ROLLS

OH YEAH, ****** COOL

YOU SEE WE SIT BY THE LAKE IN OUR BLUE AUSSIE GEAR

AND WATCH THE LOVELY FIREWORKS, YEAH, LET’S GRAB US ANOTHER BEER

DON’T FORGET, THERE IS OUR THEORY, DUDE, LAMB LAMB LAMB OH DEAR

YEAH LAMB WILL PUT IN THE A IN AUSTRALIA DAY, YEAH IT WILL OH YEAH

THEN A MAN CAME UP TO ME, AND TOLD ME WATCHA DOING

ARE YOU ENJOYING AUSTRALIA DAY, LIKE IT’S A DAY WORTH CELEBRATING

I HAVE BEEN TO CITIES, THAT HAVE A LOT OF PENANG

FROM FLORIDA, CHICAGO AND THE GREAT BUDAPEST

AND NO MATTER HOW FAR OR HOW WIDE YA ROME

YOU CAN ALWAYS CALL AUSTRALIA

A PERFECT PLACE TO HAVE BBQs, ON JANUARY 26TH

AND WE CHEER COME ON AUSSIR COME ON, YEAH, COME ON AUSSIE COME ON

YA KNOW EACH BOWLER IS COMING DOWN LIKE A MACHINE

THE OPPOSTION IS PLAYING NUMSKULL GAMES IN THE GREEN

WE ARE SCORING RUNS, THROW OUT YA CHEWING GUM

AQND THIS IS THE GREATEST AUSTRALIA DAY, THAT WE’VE EVER SEEN

GO AND HAVE LAMB ON AUSTRALIA DAY

AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE, OI OI OI

HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY DUDES

Some people say they don't like social networking
on mobile phones,
"it distances us from human connection"
they bleat and moan,
"takes us away from natural converging,
curtails face to face ties from emerging,
subdues us in a swamp of technology,
this engagement with messaging is surely a folly."
And as they depart they say,
“give me a person over a mobile msg anyday.”
Now don't get me wrong eye to eye communing is amazing
and it's not the last reserve of a luddite to prefer tactile phrasing
or to think sweet nothings into a there ear is best
but that doesn't mean there is nothing in mobile caress.
Because you can meet someone at a festival, and feel a sweet spark
that thunders through the roaming larks
and then when you part after a few days
think, "oh, that was awesome, I enjoyed their ways,
they made me laugh and gave me jumping smiles,
****, it's a pity between us there are miles and miles."
But when you arrive home and charged up a message pings
"you back now?" I see it and start to feel sing.
So we take our phones and chat all the next day,
getting to know each other in a happy appy way,
giggling at your words, beaming at the next
growing through lightning at each little text,
learning more in these screen chats;
you go to lots of BBQs and love dogs and cats,
you dye your hair and are calamity stricken
your top fajitas are finger lickin,
you know Mandarin and are ace at Catchphrase
and you have an inclination for New York days,  
you can analytically discuss scenes from C Street,
you can charm the customers at a store meet and greet,
you can decipher the nuance in The Bistro goss,
you can put up with **** from ****** at Argos.
You have a mate who picks up Mark Ronson's pooch,
you've saved a big crustacean when been on a mooch,
you can relate a song to Odysseus using sheep to save his men
and watch Mr G the musical over and over again,
you stay up/get up to watch the Super Bowl,
you type faster than a thought on a roll,
you've danced with Pete Barlow's ship mate from Corrie,
you can drive a car and a van, I recks you could handle a lorry!
You have loads of friends and often verge on more dislocation,
I want to be near you, whatever the location.
I want to pull you out of a hat
and see you stand on my welcome mat,
see, mobiles are good because it's good to feel that.
But if some quantum physicists are to be believed, after perusing their hefty tomes,
somewhere in infinite there is a place with no mobile phones,
and a boom of synchronicity has to be carried on by pen on paper
and there are days and days tween a tumbling heebie jeebie butterfly caper,
and then it's sent with a hope that it won't be lost in the post,
and be not read, like a bottled message uncorked by the coast.
Maybe a letter and no phones is better for starting a fizz
but right now mobiles make this what it is;
if not for them would I feel this close to you?
Or be writing this to you?
Right now I like feeling close to you,
and I like writing this to you,
to you Lou.

THE ALLAN FAMILY STORY




YOU SEE MY FAMILY WERE A GOOD CAMPING FAMILY

AND WE HAD THIS BIG ORANJE TENT, WHERE THE

FAMILY BROUGHT TO CAMPING GROUNDS, TO

ENJOY WEEKEND CAMPING, I REMEMBER CAMPING

EVERY WHERE AROUND NSW AND THE ACT

AND AS A WAY OF EXCAPING THE NORMAL LIVES

ME AND MY BROTHER PUT THE TENT UP IN THE BACKYARD

AND HAD OUR OWN CAMPING GROUND, AND I HAVE

SO MANY GREAT MOMENTS, LIKE NEW YEARS EVE PARTIES WITH LYLE

AND YEAH, I WAS LIKE A NORMAL TEENAGER, WITH SLEEPOVERS IN THE TENT

AND HAVING AN ESKY OF DRINK AND SAUSAGES AND OTHER THINGS LIKE

CHIPS AND I GOT SOME GREAT PHOTOS ME AND LYLE ARE HAVING A GREAT

PARTY FOR NEW YEARS EVE, WE CELEBRATED WITH POISON AND DEF LEOPARD

AND LYLE BOUGHT AIR SUPPLY, OH MY GODFATHER, I HATE THAT BAND

I REMEMBER WHEN ME AND MY BROTHER WENT IN THE TENT, WE WATCHED TV

AND WE TALKED FOR HOURS LIKE ME AND LYLE, WE HAD A HEAP OF ****** FUN

YA SEE I REMEMBER LYLE SAID HE WASN’T SCARED OF THE OLD BOOGIE WOMAN

AND I AM NOT SCARED OF THE OLD BOOGIE WOMAN EITHER

AND MY BROTHER LOVED TO JOKE AROUND WITH US

YA SEE, LYLE WAS ENJOYING PUTTING THE TENT UP

AND WE BOTH HAD OUR STEREOS, AND WE PLAYED GREAT TOP 49 HITS OF THAT ERA

YOU SEE, MY DAD WAS A GREAT CAMPER AND BUSHWALKER, AND BUDDHA’S SPIRIT

MADE ME INHERIT DAD’S ADVENTURE BLOOD, BECAUSE, OF MY LAST 2 HUMAN LIVES

BEING GREAME THORNE, AND PATRICK DUNBAR, BOTH KILLED AT 8

AND BUDDHA MADE ME AN ALLAN, TO KEEP ME SAFE

BUT I WAS A KEEN BACKYARD CAMPER, COOKING ON GAS BBQS

AND EATING CHIPS, AND HEAPS OF CHOCOLATES, AND ME AND LYLE BOTH WATCHED THE CRICKET

ON THE TELEVISION IN THE TENT AND NEW YEARS EVE, WE WATCHED THE GREAT

BICENTENNIAL NEW YEARS EVE CONCERT IN 1987, ME AND LYLE HAD FUN DOING THIS AS

WELL AS WATCH GREAT MOVIES ON THE VHS RECORDER,

BUT THAT ALL ENDED, WE RAGED A BIG PARTY IN THE TENT, WITH MUSIC AND GREAT FOOD

I CAN’T REALLY HAVE ***, I AM NOT THE *** TYPE, I TALK ABOUT ***** DONORS

BUT ONE THING I WAS GOOD AT, WAS TALKING, WITH LYLE, PATRICK MY BROTHER, SCOTT,

AND MANY MORE, AND THE BIG ORANGE TENT WAS FINALLY BOUGHT BY A FAMILY

I THOUGHT I SAW IT AT THE ABORIGINAL TENT EMBASSY, IT COULD’VE BEEN

IT LOOKED LIKE IT, AND IT’S GOOD THAT, IF IT IS, THAT POOR PEOPLE WITHOUT A HOME

ARE ENJOYING THIS TENT AS A HOME

GREAT ALLAN FAMILY CAMPING OVER

the ladies oh the ladies louder now

celebrate christmas with a almighty roul

you see christmas is the time of the year where we party right

like drinking alcohol and get ******, yeah that is quite great

you see kids see Santa and ask them what would they like

and the ladies buy the men a cordless drill

as well as the men giving a ladies a big diamond ring

yeah we will party with the song

we wish you a jetty christams we wish you a merry christmas

and a happy new year

christmas is the time of year to Party party party

and you get some eggnog and say come on ya ****** smarty

oh dudes we will lift up our glassed and sing

to the christ child the nirvanaly king

you see christmas is the happiest time

for a happy dude like me, to enjoy life too

silent night holy night all is calm all is bright

round yon ****** mother and child

once in royal davids city the party is on for young and old

as santa goes a travelling through the computer

giving presents to everyone there

and then on the first day of christmas my truelove gave to me

a dollar so i buy a homeless man his tea

if that isn’t enough, how about just leave it in his hat

so he could add it up  and buy many more dinners from all the money he raised

away in a manger no crib for a bed

the little lord buddha laid down his sweet head

he would wake up and say, i control the 3 kings of orient are

i bare gifts as i travel afar

i am dreaming of a white christmas, well stop cause in Australia it’s too **** hot

for it’s the summer weather, the bbqs are lit together

as we are a walking around singing a song living in a summer wonderland

on the beach we can build a sandcastle and bury poor old patrick in the sand

and then he will jump and SHUT UP, why don’t you give your family a ****** woman a ****** hand

then we jump in the saddle nice and quick all in there with good saint nick

Feliz Navidad i want to wish a merry Christmas

i wish you a merry christmas form the bottom of my heart, i lost when my friends treat me like a criminal

six white boomers six white boomers racing good old Patrick through the blazing sun

then Patrick sent to santa what about the toys

aren’t you giving these to all the boys and girls

or are you saying that boys are better than girls like a cool kid that you are

a pair of hoppalong boots and pistol that shoots,is a gift for Patrick and Wayne

dolls that will talk and go for a walk a grift from Joanne and Paula

now dudes as i am prepared to party on dude till the break of dawn

Down by the Murray River,
where life swims all around;
above and beneath the surface,
in this heat, everything flows.
Beers, BBQs, budgie smugglers and babes in bikinis,
memories bobbing above ground
capturing freedom, post-pandemic and pre-celebrations.

Down by the Murray River,
watching things flow safely and soundly,
birthing new possibilities:
boyfriends, babies, businesses and brews?!
Endless possibilities abound,
prophecies realised; salvation.

Down by the Murray River,
with nature, our souls sing loudly,
simplicity is possible,
trusting and enjoying,
everything is allowed.

Some people would say that I am a fantasist, an idealist or a romanticist. They would be right.
But its not innocent; I've seen love in all its powers; its glory, its sacrifice, its understanding, its passion, its beauty, its happily ever afters, its successes, and also in its suffering, its misery, its hardship, its jealousy, its insecurity, its possession, its cruelty and most of all its longing. Love is illogical. The amount of love you have for yourself, will attract that same love from someone else. Its hard work or its easy. Its equilibrium or its imbalance.

Everyone in your life in whatever form of relationship holds this love for you, and you for them. You become a mirror image for whatever you desire in life from others. What you lack, you hope they will fill the void, making you whole. Or sometimes where you lack, they take a look around, sniff the air and make themselves cosy in the cavern of your longing. Sometimes just sometimes, you find the jigsaw puzzle piece to fit the void.

This is what I believe about love.

Love is sacrificing yourself for another, but not all of you until you are deplete of reason, choice or circumstance.
Love is making the effort. Actions speak louder than words.
Love is giving til you want to punch yourself in the face, because it seems too much, and then getting over it because you learnt from it afterwards.
Love is breaking past that barrier, taking down those walls, even if its brick by tiresome brick.
Love is travelling 4 hours to see someone to make them smile, to let them know that you care.
Love is attuning your inner spirit. Taking pride in yourself. Taking care of yourself.
Love is loving yourself.
Love is cartwheels, fairytales, hand-me-down stories and a rollercoaster ride.
Love is 22 cut out love hearts, each with a 'I love you because....' hanging from your living room ceiling.
Love is listening. Really listening to one another, and talking like adults.
Love is loving someone, way after they have gone and made their own lives away from you, just because.
Love is letting someone go, for the last time, giving up and slamming the deadbolt on that door, so they can, never, come, back.
Love is letting go of control, negotiation and acceptance.
Love is forgiveness. Internal, and external. Even if they are not there, even if they continue to try to destroy you. Understand, everyone has their own demons to deal with, and theirs aren't yours, you're purely a emotional punching bag. You accept that or you don't, your choice.
Love is understanding that you are not part of their life, unless they make you part of it, then you have a say, but you still might not get anywhere.
Love is saying sorry and meaning the **** out of it.
Love is giving a second chance.
Love is sitting up with someone in the midnight hours, holding them while they cry themselves out of their pain and living nightmares.
Love is believing in what you want, and respecting someone for what they want, despite your misgivings about it.
Love is being honest, in every which way.
Love is a cup of tea in the morning.
Love is your hand cupped on my cheek, so I know you're there.
Love is play fights, pillow wrestling, hide & seek and treasure hunts.
Love is laughing til you cry and your belly hurts.
Love is knowing when I have had enough, really don't want you here, nowhere ******* near me, and holding me anyway, because you know I really do, but can't help myself.
Love is creating trust. Breaking down boundaries and letting someone in.
Love is chinese whispers, bbqs, outdoor fairy lights and midnight fire pits.
Love is a mutual appreciation of the same music.
Love is mutual appreciation of each other. Mutual understanding.
Love is fighting for those you love, against the world if need be.
Love is giving, sometimes until you are spent and weary.
Love IS kind.
Love is acceptance.
Love is being a best friend, a role model, a partner in crime, and a creator of mutual dreams.
Love is wiping away the snot, the blood and the tears. Placing magic kisses on scrapes, scratches and bruises.
Love is believing.
Love is holding someone til they're ok with letting you go.
Love is packing up the car early in the morning with a tent and walking boots and driving off in the sunrise.
Love is teaching someone how to ride a bike, understand a question, try a rope swing or do roly polys down the hills
Love is letting them get it wrong, so they know how to get it right.
Love is giving your life to something you believe in.
Love is not giving a flying **** and jumping off the cliff. Recklessness abandonment.
Love is an adventure of mass proportions.
Love is unconditional - if you place conditions on love, you are limiting yourself in every avenue of your life. Place conditions on other things - respect, commitment and trust.
Love is passion; passion til it overflows into all avenues of your life, til it reaches your happy place, and puts a smile on your ****** goofy face.


Love with all your heart.
For no reason.
Forget the rest.

Thousands of grains of rice boiled and resting
on the lining of unconsumed human veal. No one can **** the dweeb
who suckered that one kid at the party out of drugs
with the help of the cutest girl there. He knew how to hurt
the best in the world with one word.

Sweet tea and *** goes much deeper than the ribs
and out the back door much faster than a deadbeat dad. The stomach
rumbles the world far worse than a string of serial rapists on trial.
World hunger is a yo-yo doing pendulum swings over summer BBQs
drinking and popping *** and candy from the local radio station.

“I'm sorry I felled you. I should have done better by you. I love you.”

Vague women with just five minute existences of commitments, those Senators of Love
vying for second and third terms
before they sink into those holes in South America you hear about
in the news.

Men know nothing but control. Women know nothing but control.
Numbers know nothing.
Collapsed tunnels in the mind of Prometheus
before calendars and Twitter and liquor
just the dark and blunt
objects

white posts with red eyes
flash by with driven monotony
the trees a green-grey blur
in the early morning mist.

the beat of the wipers
poens the door to
memories...
as we climb into the moutains....

spiralling sprinklers,
and hiding before tea....
a bedroom of purple,
bbqs for dinner....
lavender patches,
the home of master jack,
the old black cat....

silver hair like a curtain
to her waist...
a silver brush, always,
one hundred strokes.

the smell of tonic and gin,
russian toffees melting
on my tongue...
jam jars awaiting filling...
and
a caress,
with bony fingers,
on a young  girls cheek.
a smile gentle and knowing.
a wave by the honeysuckle
gate...

Where do society's extremists abide?
Rallies and Racists go side by side.
BBQs offer up well-done bigots;
On Jordan's lap dance the zealots.
Dogmatists rant in wild front rows,
True believers don't put on such shows?
Sexists cower in coastal Compounds,
Sects marry often in Salt Lake towns.
Troglodytes tan beneath southern suns.
Sepratists hold their final stand
On this side of The Rio Grande;
Fanatics occupy far Left and Right,
Partisans Op Eds are meant to enlight.
Mysoginists grab till they have blisters,
Huns and louts date brothers and sisters.
Philistines take our private spaces,
And whistle-blowers can't show their faces.

Of all the ists I know and abhor,
The musicist is a bigoted boor;
A connoisseur I abjure,
Who chooses tunes he insists
Are superior than my interests,
And disses tunes I like best.

So now I'll lay my needle down,
I've turned the table that goes round,
And plead musicists won't hesitate
To enjoy the tunes... don't discriminate.

A virus appeared one day
Summer was no longer ours for fun
Walks became a thing for one

Locked inside, no room to breathe
Movies all day and drinking all night
Half the money coming in

Bike rides and swimming wild
BBQs and summer wine
We opened up again

Flights cancelled, passports banned
The United Kingdom in another lockdown
Jobs have stopped or are on strong pause

The mood is dropping, life isn't as fun
Queuing for food one by one
I sit in the window and wonder

What could life have been
What adventures have we missed
As I watch the sunrise

It made me think
It made me dream
It made me sit still and finally learn how to breathe

I am grateful you existed
For a short time in my life.
Teaching me guys can be selfless
Showing me boys can be kind.

I am thankful for the new experiences
That I got to share with you.
You taught me many a lesson
And made many a dream come true.
Like pottery and Paris
Pic n mix and Polaroids.
Also birthdays and BBQs
Brunch and bike rides.

I am appreciative of your patience
Even when I was too hard to love.
I will remember you as a beautiful coincidence
That now I can let go of.

summer was sunnier in the 60s
and the 60s were made for kids
my folks had backyard BBQs
with the tijuana brass in constant spin
i don’t know if it was my mom or dad
who put it on, but they both dug it
them and their friends and neighbors
me and my sister too
best part of my short time with them
i grew up, had a family, threw BBQs
merriment with wacky musicians jamming
between burgers, feeding
the most cartoon characters in town
i’m glad my kids have magical family times
to turn back to, as i do
every time i hear those spanish trumpets

tender childhood piraguas
pinchos
borinquen place
bbqs on the sidewalk
ice from the dollar store
gleaming on our necks till the
skin glows green
knee scrapes
Vicks to solve all
problems thoobies and
missing bobby pins under
rugs a neighborhood i’ve never-
yet always known, a glimpse of it and
it takes me back the cousin
always spiking my
Malta the **** that never
leaves the kitchen the smaller
cousins that lived in the park around
the block
the older cousin
that was always on
the phone with a different
boy, and kept a blanket over
the body mirror and refused to
explain why, we’d get a
shipment from our
family de la isla
mangoes
aguacates and
quenepas fly out
the box while everyone
calls dibs and i’m home.

All my mind in time spent
Thinking in multi-tasking mode, modernized
ontuition, in multicomplexity, chata chabad,

original intention, revealed long ago,
to a trance chance glance of a ox, I knew,
it was no bull.
But had been, as a calf.

*******.
Some old fool I knew,
hollers from the back of my mind…

Historically, part of me assists informing
all the first time crossers of this meandering

mind stream swirling phi in life with pi and x
concepts set to contend, earnestly
for the best gifts, coveted, in trust,

true rest, excusing superstitious sacraments,

all the lies are swallowed in truth, time tells.

A message. An Inspirited shape in forming,
a we, to recollect once knowing an instant true.

An artist, a person gifted with a time spanning
imagination.

An eye, we use, in times of loosed beliefs,
ontuition, intuited as mysterious mystical
as a we. We
have being shared in timesmindspace's
expanded sense of each reader's pace
adapting
breath and bubble, below
common consciousness
sensing sensibilities
adapted to due to normalized
faith in the phraze that declares,
MONEY ANSWERS ALL THINGGGGS

in the infallible preacher's whinings

que sera, sera

the story from the spirit window seen
through to the future when you see
we imagined knowing is repetition,

we imagined many impossible things,
we made them work, mickey mouse,
but, we made things work, to make
old age easier for the beguiled mis-
sionaries, empty vessles, gathered

widow's mighty faith, borrow,
borrow means, to know, how lamps
kept burning, call with smoke,
commas breathe and act as brakes/ lo'
come trim the new knowns from olden
days, now that the curious may fact check

but, as with plain text literacy, the gifted,
the mind that can read and does not,
knows no more than the mind
in movie mode, turbo
memory augments
tuned to reason,
depth charges,
accusing saints,

calling all revelators to prophesy
face to face with Micaiah, and walk on
inspired by his God's permissive will done
bymarching as to war dening the imperative,
loving those who treat you like refuse, biochar

desert stream bringing lithium from old dust,
what was once some kind of star rare as hells.
-------------
non sense. sense.
sems sun sumsymsense when  we accept

let us veliebe, old orders of reformed
societies, gelaubt
after the purge of all who
could not tolerate the truth,

The pilgrim's fled religion,
the missionaries sold religion,
and the money changers set the worth
of knowledge traded for curses lifted,

when old men stop drinkin' stop being
so godamned useless and good

for nothing, free, for free
for nothing but the use
knowing good from bad. from a child,
fed sweet peaches from Canyon de Chelly

-- long ago a hero named Kit Carson
-- led federal troops and local conscripts
or hired hands, squatters on Dene land,
Kit led a rowdy bunch to Canyon de Chelly

to burn a thousand of the sweetest peach trees
ever nourished for centuries on sacred ground.

Kindness of strangers,
old cultural investments, paid ahead,
weight of all the worthy fasts all past,
take no thought for worth in exchange
for the yes, at the judgement bar,
to thy ownself true, are you ready
for your judgement day, bets all in?
worth of an extra six months, at the end

this is declared that bet, let ride… no

money, ecclesiastical hordes, invested
with the wise users of letting information
manifest compounding interest, on a whim,
made this will worship worth reproving,
as a fluid  ide, a thought, breath,
thing in a thought, hooks
an eye a measure, a
0ne part in one floating point
at the recent mean rate of Petaflops
just yoost
enough, particle particulation, you think
this time,
it makes patience sweeter than revenge.

We yoost to call the guy who knew the rules,
now ai know, so we can say we do. too.

This is a good future. We had something like it
propagating between data and metadata price
praise and worship
measure all the effort effectual
as taken for granted to mean  whatever
confusion
persists in believing spells
concentrated into koanic mantras,

spend time or take time
used for nothing more than
slowing knowing too much humm

coming into tune to the ever after
Jesus, or a spokes person, Paul, I think,
sole witness of his own conversion,
according to the authorized story,

let this mind be.
Let this mind be in you.
Letting that which letteth be
taken away,

what can it mean, to
a day dream believer, and
a rodeo queen, at the dawning
of the harvest festival down under.


costs the average adult VBS QUESTERS,

when an instance in doubt, forced yous
to learn we do have multiple CPUs

some of which tuned in to sub conscious
user canals cutting across the esophagus

as we swallow, unsaid protestations,
gulping hesitation, to **** it up and,
clear the are way, to say it is gnosis,

air way, empty abhorred vacuous space
between ose and ic on balancing atomic

ideas developed to help us conceive, ic
internal circuitry to as ist, sein, wir sind,

intentionally conserved kennen und wissen,

in qwerty future scribal service prep,

during the Child Buyer buildup at ARPA net,

Ike's first term,
before under God went in the pledge,
but after Polio was cured, in exchange,

some good, some bad, live and learn,
before the Dulles Brothers,
before solid state quantum foam bubble RAM.

And.
Now.
The original intent. Embodied in a word, as
real as any worded message from beyond you.

Real letters, letting us think,
silly thought that never stink,

sigh, and try to be honest now, smell
the rose or the cheese, ask
which triggers gut reaction,

relaxatation, loosen bowels of mercies,
prayed for under inquisitor's historical,

memories, useful for Memorial Day BBQs

wave the sacred flag representing the lost
intentionally religiously regulated republic,

God, bless America, the dream, the ghost.

True rest, flowing in life's higher will warrings,
appetites and courses cut across experiences,

manifest in out of mind rewindings of things,
math wise, a ruliard is thinkable, as this set,

these words that translate verbatum,
phonetically in webedonspoken spaceless
old cuneiform wet clay repressed
palimpsests lost to EMPs,

in all dystopias.

--------------------

Fretting for another's lack of freedom
to imagine using another's mind, reading

original intention, when the parable,
or analogy allowed in drama spake aloud

to the rabble used to make deme mobs,
we forms of feeling normal, we think alike

until freedom emerges from an over learned
truth, from the bottom of your cache,

depths unplumed introspherical sure selves
set on shelves as crystaline urns, not a few.

see if some
of these be emptied, not a few, emptied
of old lies left allowed told, according
to old oaths taught us in our toddlehood.

What binds us to our oaths?
In truth we slightly smile, saying whatever
in truth being lets us be
we remain free, from fretting overflow.

----------- epithought
this professional whim wrestling is useful:
for rumination under mystical mis perceptions,
for greazing gears gone crusty dis used,
-- legal. garden grown herba consemillia
the dormouse said feed your head.
Slick, Grace.

It's been awhile
Yet here I find myself again
on this dusty trail alone
I've tried so many paths
Academic ivory towers
Battlefields with comrades
Who will never leave my heart
Suburbs and picket fences
Pretending the BBQs and picnics I felt normal
yet cast about upon the world
Another airport
Another highway
To see around the next curve and I'm at home
Would you travel with me
Just for awhile?

The Sound of water running through the creek
Cows on the hillside grazing
Warm breeze through the treetops
Wild animals in the woods

I was born country
These things run through my blood
Like a mighty river
That can not be stopped

Fixing fence
Hauling hay
Cutting wood
Fishing in the pond

I was born country
It is forever a part of who I am

Family dinners
Catching Fireflies
Sitting out at night
Watching the starlight

I was born country
The spirit of nature
Is one with my soul
For it truly is
God's creation

Hay rides
BBQs
Fresh fruits and vegetables
From the garden

I was born country
Nothing like a job well done
Being with friends
Getting along

Dogs in the yard
Mom's cooking
Cat's in the barn
Kids playing in the yard

I was born country
It is who I am
The values passed down
Can not be taught
Only can be learned
Off the land

Gathering Walnuts
Camping out at night
Tire swings

I was born country
I always will be

Home
Where the cattle roam
Home
Fixing feance all day long

Living on a farm
Has a speacial charm
That really makes it the life to live
Family dinners
Fishing in the pond
BBQs
And much much more

Home
Hauling hay
Home
Mowing grass
Or chasing a cow
That's gone stray

Watching your kids play
Catch fireflies at night
Laying in the yard
Looking up at the stars

Home
Home grown fruits and vegitables
Straight from the garden
Home
Hayrides and bonfires
In the fall

County fairs
Family outings
All this make the country life
HOME

We are letting trapper win
I know it is a nice day
And who wants to be inside
Their house every minute of the day
You see the police are imprison people inside their houses
To keep them safe from the caronavirus
But people aren’t doing social distancing laws
My friend Daniel sits inside his house every day and goes out occasionally
But is trying to be nice to the police
Because of that the police
Wants us to be a total world full of Daniels
I watched my late father’s next life Betty do a special report about covid 19
When dad died I tried to show dad what being a kid is all about
Because he was always getting upset
With me for being cool
Now dad is having fun with his next life, Betty, so he is learning about being young again
And if we have the coronavirus
We will be in a world full of Daniels
Who was a negative friend of mine
And the police wants us to be like him
Saying I want to die and **** the world
And other **** like that
When Daniel does die he needs to learn the nice part I learnt about the whole world
I hated that Muslim who spat at the police man
Spitting at the police is against the law
I every stretch of the imagination
Daniel would say that is good
Because he is a real negative ****
Please Buddha stop the virus taking
Over the world
Stop trapper now
And Athena bring us a new drug to stop the virus
Bring back sport
Bring back parties
Bring back bbqs anywhere
Bring back fun
Bring back concerts in street
Bring back going to the movies
Don’t make this world a world full of Daniel j Sandersons who is negative
Not truthfull
But people need to follow the rules
To try and avoid that joke which Daniel laughs at a big axe murderer comes up to you in gaol and asks you what are you in for
You say I went to the beach
Or I played a footy match
Or had too many people over
Yes, we will have a world full of negative people if this virus goes
Much further
But we must follow the rules
It will end

To the best of times
To the worst of times
Our friendship has lasted though it all

In joys we celebrated together
In sadness we shed tears together
In our weak times
We carried each other

A toast
A toast my friend
To the long life we have shared

Kids graduations
Each others weddings
Birthdays
Halidays
back yard BBQs
Backyard football games
We’ve been friends through it all

A toast
A toast my friend

To the long life we have shared