History with me involved goes back to ever when.
At that precise instant,
I was potential me, should I live so long.
Life with instant printing presses available
to any with a will to write a thought thing, sentence.
- poetic fizziness
At the heart of the enlightenment is a deep interest
in evil, used knowledge, living words filled with storied
poison gourds and freed goats and slain goats,
which carries the disconnecting force, hey, hamar-atia
ai ai, ai ai
we are so lost in the bubble of all we can ever learn,
we never learn to wait
so
so long, fifty year plans, Jubillee, some social cohesion,
trackable, due to right use dust con vincing science
to act out.
- bang, bang Lulu, bang away all day
Go bold as Rue, Saul, dance with the students,
down where the prophets
do that sort of thing, in the days of young David.
Who celebrates nakedness better than the angel
who posed in the marble for Michelangelo.
Art pun. Archangel, warrior spirit, never encarne' eh.
As the messenger is, so is the message,
in the spirit,
pre word, or, perhaps, mere word, the meaning
phonemes hold in certain family branches
along ancient clade marks on the walls.
Who and what are we?
Who thinks we think one thought, at moments,
when each line appears as written,
listening in context, who began the phase shift, gen-
erational era, last gasp,
a poet, used the suspire, process, last gasp.
And, then, not really,
we were imagining hell, then we woke here, and
took life.
Serious reasoning, I chose the winning side, I made up
my own ****** mind and went through living hell
to prove, one way or the other,
was I tricked, or did we seal the deal, with a kiss, each time.
How long does the new olive take to give full measure?
Fifty years, in Sicily, I heard, on TV.
Cross m'heart and hope t' die. That was a child's common oath,
where I was raised,
I was not reared, I was raised, as one brought up in a chosen way.
Should and shall, not being mine. The clades whose branches
and roots tangled in the land of the free, and home of the brave
gave cultural appropriation rights, down to the first idea used
to do stealing or killing or destroying…
in the real we share universe of air and word based descriptions,
here,
my most realized future so far. North Korea has Nukes.
Oh, no. We are, really, all
gonna
die… and if there were no fear of death, there never had been slaves.
Hero's only role, be like Jesus, or any of the redeemed heroes of old.
Wiseman's only role, say no. I'll just die. Go, Socrates…
Guiding still small voices only role, say yes, this is the way.
The old way, where good is. See, blindly, feeling light.
Guessing it's okeh to say.
Life can be enjoyed, or not. Like magic beguiling ideas, spirit being one such word in common spacetime. We all can
imagine not hating, actual deep heart level rage revenge serial ****,
and rekill,
machine gun ****. in the spirit of the bayonet, invited into each boy,
pledged in aliegiance and under oath sealed with one step,
on command. You left.
Left foot, swings out, in unison right on
down the line,
we have marched into pre-historia, and… nothing. This is it.
We have reached a level of word-sense distribution that can
use prehensile engineering to grasp mechanical concepts,
at quarkishly unbelievably…
ping… my generation, represented by Michael Douglas,
down where time
is totally kerwhacky, and that's the science, in a nut shell.
--------- As Vanderbilt is said to have said…
No, the wiseman insists, the greedy miss the point, the gate,
honed most,
sharpest *****, scarcely felt… when truth is called lie,
and knowing itself is said to have been verboten.
Who asked what is the first lie? First in terms of what?
Failed tries? Tries to do what? Get it. Right. Guess, we live
and learn or become the Left Behind,
having missed the memo about the acceptable fasts function.
Same Yesterday Today Forever. Constant flux, bubbling
as a universal metaphor.
Thinking audible-- imagining a radio show... in text.
