there shall be moments when happiness
is not your state,
however in ever that happens,
it is, virtually, bound to happen,
but
in a literal existence of mere words, happiness
occurs ever after. You may be a
babbler wisher-for-happenstance to pirrouette on a pen
and whisper deep insights locked in hap
pens powered by magi-tech i-magined manufactured in mortal minds,
as it hapt.
---
the grip slips, words cease clinging to meanings and mean
- as in evil, mean people, mean words, mean spirited
things
arize to ****** the tiny hap...
which happens not to wish
to vanish
like a thought from a dream, but but
but re
mains, takes priority, exalts itself above the heard news,
you/me/we are irrelevant to, non-integrail to maintaining the flow of
peace that happiness always leaves in it's wake,
ah, always, we re
call the dry place, where we made no wake, no waves
to propagate
ripples, in time, near the nearest shore,
then, in time, near the farthest shore; nay,
in those dry places,
no such woken waves foam, dust rises as one step,
is taken by faith, no reason, save war is wrong so find some peace,
take a step, you might have to live like a refugee,
that's the story of confusion being unsnarled to reuse the meaning
in messengers going up and down,
and to and fro -- all balanced in the mix, a step taken to see from far away,
what if, another,
then one more, re becomes the rythm mmm re mmm re
call the idea, hap. Many haps must be that plenty state, happy,
plenely, right, plenty clear see happy is sufficiency of hap.
That is so simple, a child could be saved, if
it be possible, to live at peace, among all men. If ye say?
If? What, when ever what ever crisis of existance takes peace from the
dust,
breathe, we left pure whist in the wind as we passed Kansas, in the spring
back when there was no morning dew,
any more...
and the farm blew into the Bermuda Triangle, by all accounts extant.
Considerated galactic storms were aitia-tic tic tict off, like war in
the heavens,
{ sloow read, while breathing aware, software in the air, just there}
the whole, integral system of life on an orbit around Sirius,
undeniable by flat earth witnesses all over the globe,
they admit. Sol is ellipticating pro
cessionally toward Sirius, the freakin' dog star. So,
we could make up a reason for war, with this much knowledge.
... but we can't tell the worker ants, those used to believe the six o'clock news.
For their own good,
suffice it to say, war makes money. Loving money, what makes that?
Lack of haps.
So simple, a five year old child can comprehend,
nothing beats money in the bank,
for giving a whole family that feeling of safety and security,
so much so
amen
that now the usage fee to the usery class, the tax-collectors and money-lenders, lets them lend to themselves at no interest.
No, child, not tree climbing tax collector
Zachias,
but he was a fanatic,
so don't take him for a role model... there were Mithraic bankers under the sign
of the Red Shield, in the Ghetto, about which Elvis sang,
Amazing-ly, from Graceland, in 1968, as an old idle word winks in passing,
I'm okeh, howeryew?
who converted then reverted, then, with riches in faith past Midas, one man, changed
ever after that,
says the story, Walt Disney
erected an image of a national pride,
The happiest place on earth, there where oranges grew, in Anaheim.
Golden apples, is what oranges were called, where oranges never grew, long ago,
in the realm of Asgard, where ever held cold hope, for mortals and gods,
Did you know?
Selah. I read the news today, oh boy...
now, the peace I made is splashing as my cup runs over with love, as sung
by the guy who played the Tonto role to the official American hero history
Dan'l Boone or Davy Crockett,
Fess Parker - the official Disney-ify version,
American frontiersman model for boys, {a message from the sponsor}
with telescopic sight... see threads of star stuff swooshed before fore words in books
we read, we learn, we live and all we leave behind is the meaning intended unattended,
-so say the happy Sisyphus culties,
once a word loses meaning, each time you utter nonsense saying it, just take note,
give account.
What does that happen to do? How do you do? What's up?
Well, as it hapt,
I was odd. When asked, I answered true to how did I do, well,
i said, my side is winning. How are you? How do you exist at all, if
you choose to oppose me in this, your side lost when the referee
declared at all the crossings where choices are made for patterns
in happenstances,
bliebe doch-- said Faustus now
now, ever never allows meaningless beyond
{slow- breathe}
good and evil, belief and dignity, dasein design,
oh-- a gleam, see, in the smile, tooth paste ads say that's *** appeal.
That's how boomer kids got *** ed... freeze, mind of a child, or you can't see
heaven is Disneyland. -- hush grandpa, don't spoil the fun...
Closed? There's no closing in Happiest Places on Earth, said Forrest Gump...
no
frozen statues query sphinxy riddles - with only old boomer stories left to hold
an eye for the needle all camels pass through,
if you get the tip of this thread,
wet,
and aim, steady, straight, miss, try again, we got all the monosylables in time
to find and redeem worthy of rereading for the possible metaphor left sealed.
And then you get a Corona, on the beach, it's a lifestyle.
A light heart, a light spirit, dark rumors of a toilet paper hoarder being burned on twitter.
Peace as a practical accident, happens as often as you notice, I've noticed. Life is a poem. My kids got me the Disney Channel. What a trip.
