April 10, 2019

Come a day, reason peeks around the corner,
Wisdom spots the whole idea,
nothing hidden around
the edge,
she winks back.

The story is there
was this kid,

he has these uni-
que memories
odd
memes,
or easers of toils,
heartfelt
reward for sweated blood

proverbial guiding
memories
resting easy in the shadows

he sends songs soaring
some when
Dams break, knowns burst
thru bubbles in jeopardy
new f-izzy izy knots
loose the lowest layer of liege
let go
loosen
free. all for allegiance,
reciprocal give and take with no control
given to any lacking self
controlership

idle words redeemed by chance
take up the dance,
least friction
desidare
aitia
gentle
ease of flow, over under, around
, through, if it comes to that,

any which way ye find,
wind way,
Pollen Way,
River way, rolling
rocky mountain way

it was noised abroad, in the hill country.
We all knew.

Reason come with me,
we have heard we must war

some more,
we are feeling
fused with metal minded

souls set to unleash some
monster idea thing-ysdril-
whoops cyd-drethal
con-tributary
mythic
influence,
twist ing side
ways to es
scape the scoffer
from the
Welsh brig… abrupt

scene shift
like a real life movie

encrypted Welsh wonder words

the professors called thunderwords and
allowed only those umlauted
u prounouncers to speak

with proper compre
hensions,
you get that? Ubermenschken?

Controllership. that idea.
think what controllership would be,
if it were yours being weighed.

The Welsh had a word for that.
goruchwylwriaeth.

How was such a word lost?

How can we teach our kids
controllership when our nation
has no national tongue able

to roll wisdom into reasonless reality,
goruchwylwriaeth,

it's magic, if magi means much to you.

---
Ordovician rules. If I had a hammer.

Ord'vicians, hammer warriors,

hammering out justice all over this land,
as the bombs were falling,

for God's sake. Sake itself is assumed to have
meant "cause",
cause being reason, aition or aitia.
Reasonable reasonibility to
just ify now, as real.

So, since we agree,
we know right, when we taste it, or

do we take a chance on better, a bit more
than half the times?

Judge the controlership system.
What determines a good controller?

when can I assume you consider me no evil? Wordwise, id est.
assume (v.)
early 15c., "to arrogate, take upon oneself," from Latin assumere, adsumere "to take up, take to oneself, take besides, obtain in addition," from ad "to, toward, up to" (see ad-) + sumere "to take," from sub "under" (see sub-) + emere "to take," from PIE root em- "to take, distribute."
Meaning "to suppose, to take for granted without proof as the basis of argument" is first recorded 1590s; that of "to take or put on fictitiously" (an appearance, etc.) is from c. 1600. Related: Assumed; assuming. Early past participle was assumpt. In rhetorical usage, assume expresses what the assumer postulates, often as a confessed hypothesis; presume expresses what the presumer really believes. Middle English also had assumpten "to receive up into heaven" (especially of the ****** Mary), from the Latin past participle.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=assume>

(that which causes, which is not prophaseis)

The final pages of 2020.
The year, ALL CAPS, THE YEAR

we appeared
asreal as the famed angel of the same name,
black-lit in a glow

all shimmery, like on TV, retro greys, cold
slightly blue,
we may remember seeing this, through our own
child-eyes, but watch

your own pair of eyes, the window through which
your own soul sees,
now
through a glass, darkly, through our own re
flection making faces of all our wannave
na-I've dared
be
worse. For a joke nobody found very funny.

Those whose laugh is like hell let loose on the
wierdo;

they laugh, but first.

Peace laughs last,

forever, as a smile you wear, on your best days.

---
Would you believe, I've lived my most recent year,
the measured bit of time,
years of our life, on earth with you,
visiting the source,

living words, accepted as fluid in any compre-sensible stretch

to touch the download. Off… on, almost
ever, times and time and half-a time- hold our breath

shhh sixty cycle tuning, even the little space heater
harmonizes

we, we sing, we

susssssss pect sus piscious suspicious - see sci causa sui

almost persuaded…

lieve us take a stab at being asreal as we were

imagining, the long and the short and the tall

medium of transfiguration,
a great notion,

taken to heart, after I, Kenurchka Klumpen, fell in parts.

Pieces strewn though out the being isting eninsting,
possessing I-rights with all-in
life-bound
springs
gushing
free-truth seekers fed on gifts informing angels
comprised of those silver winged
Castaneda crows feats

as we squint into the old mama pine, seeing

points of sunstuff cone-ing from
tree to me to thee

Yes, all the promises yet to be defined asreal,

you get the message and admit
it is more than one can imagine thinking or asking,

Life on earth, after all that has ever happened,

we are the ones, we who read,
we step forward in to our best next yet, watch…

.i'm not even sure whether i'm right or left on any particular spectrum of politico, given the current events, but... how did politics become as engaging, as a rugby match?! now that's ******* bewildering... but i have a motto: keep the left hyper-sensitive in terms of hyperventilating, in subvert terms of: keep them talking, keep them excited, these people need the fuel that drives their a.d.h.d. mantra... the right, on the other hand? keep them tame, keep them sedated, keep them lock stock & barrel, making fetishes from being trigger-happy... real deer or imaginary deer... keep them focused, level-headed... but sure as ****: keep the left entertained, hyper-excited, give them the necessary momentum; given, after a while... the momentum exhausts, and subsequently consumes the vector, that instigates it.

**** me... a whiskey in the afternoon,
as the saying goes:
no gentleman drinks in the morning,
perhaps drinking in the afternoon
is some variant of a faux pas -
       but the sun goes really well with
miss amber...
          ah miss amber...
       my memory's fixation,
and a medicine for headaches and bad
memories...
    my amnesia prescription...
              funny... i'd love to write an epic
about memoria & amnesia...
like i might write an epic about
thanatos and hypnos...
   but alas... not to be... not to be...
although...
in the list of names...
      a Kantian ref.: shadow, something cold...
in the critique of pure wisdom
schematic (volume 1)...
so? the list:
    Nyx, Erebos, Geras, Eris,
            Nemesis, Apate,
      Charon... and the son of Charon...
****... sorry... the daughter of Charon...
Σκιά...
   ooh, played with fire, the Greeks did...
such a beautiful alphabet,
but they, really, really had to overplay
toying with the diacritical markers...
in translation that alpha, does indeed have
an acute symbol hovering above it...
but...
               But...
no... that's now how you account the word...
does a semi-wit of non-Roman descent have
to tell these people:
that's nice, nice... you're over-doing it...
look at ****-naked Britain!
i see room for potential,
a metaphor of Eden!

     Skíā             (because you're hiding
a sigh, along with a H, com, com,
   compre, pre pre, hen hen hen...
   comprende?)

       because why wouldn't i?
          first person in the family to go
to university, and what a bad idea that was,
thankfully the Labor party was in power
and the tuition fees were, an astounding
£1350 a year...
                  spotted a major tsunami of
English toffs,
  plus some English crumpets...
killed none...
          got a ****** degree in chemistry,
then inverted the periodic table on its head
and started spotting "sub-atomic" particles
in diacritical markings,
totally missing in the English language.

but beside all of this...
no... i'm not letting this observation pass...
screamers (2016),
and it's *****-mother
                    of lose plagiarism...
  the blair witch project...
  
                 i love, i love horror for
the theater, the dance macabre,
the exaggerations, the romance music...
the cenobites (covert word for monks)...
something pressing about
a disgruntled love, or memory,
or something to add a quintessential
theater....
                      even as impure as evil
becomes in the film hostel...
or how easily people talk about
the Holocaust... when not being involved...

i can stomach that ****...
but when there is no banality of evil?
rather, a canvas of the banality of life?
and there is a sharp, syringe precision
hovering of a dot insertion of
the cheapest form of evil?
            that **** gets me...
     i turn the volume down....
the images don't scare me,
          but couple that with music?
who the hell orientated themselves
with the suggestion that males were
primarily optical creatures?!
which evidently explains Mozart et al.

that sort of cheap horror?
   no theater, no art, the nitty-gritty?
the everyday diatribe?
                     i started to forget which
was the horror and which wasn't...
the dross of the happy-campers
with very subtle interludes of:
**** my pants shrieking like
playing the violin with the blunt
side of a knife for a bow...

                         ...
             did i wake up remembering
a dream? i swear i didn't think this up...
i'm pretty sure i was explaining
to someone the effects of the drug
Naproxen as an alternative to
sleeping pills...
                                  let's face it...
almost all pharmaceutical innovations
collide with
                              an artifact of derived
from Hypnos - sleep...
   Hypnos is the equivalent of Prometheus
when it comes to pharmaceuticals;

but Skíā, the daughter of Charon?
what could be darker
than the depth of night,
if not, a man casting his shadow upon
it?

i'm never short of telling a bad joke... i have twitchy eye, my eye-lashes are tickling my sclera... is must be a care to compre tap-dancing from 1950s american musicals, with irish river-dancing ; make sure you danced a scottish caleigh to make this joke, with the man in a kilt, and a woman in a niqab... got to hear a scottish accent donning a sikh turban... quantum physics, ****'s quantum physics.

god is dead,
yep,
and i'm
dancing on
his grave;
     naked;
song of choice?
duran duran's
   *the reflex...
gay as ****;
but what
the groove dictates,
the groove gets.

*you care for divinity? tell a good joke,
   esp. a joke that disregards being
                                                   sober.

Every piece of art
Is worth a thousand words
For each and every stroke
Has meaning and took thought
Made with love and care
Priceless beyond compre
You can not place a value
Of thoughts made into art
The feelings that go in
They can not be bought
Words can not express
The thoughts behind the art

Even on your worst day
You deserve far more
Than all of the love
This world could ever hold

No matter what happens
You deserve my love
Even if it's a sliver
Of what should deserve

But at this moment
You know not one ounce
Of the love beyond compre
That you should know so well

So if I could show you
The smallest bit of it
It would make me happy
I would feel compete

Me compre una
Cafetera de estufa,
Prendo y caliento,
Y me siento a
Esperar la chilllaera,
El olor corrumpe
Las cortinas y las
Toallas, abre neveras,
Y limpia migajas de
Pan en la mesa,
Pesado en las arrugas
Nuevas que crean
Valles en mi frente,
Mientras el color de tus ojos
Da vueltas en mi mente,
Invirtiendo en las noches
Donde te tuve en mis brazos,
Atadados entre sabanas,
Y tu , Arbol de ceiba que anclo
Sus raices en mis venas,
Las dejare correr y drenar
Hasta la ultima gota de sangre,
El vapor sube, yo subo con el,
Y me siento en la humedad
De las nubes, peleando con la
Culpa y rayos de sol.