Axt would I, I sed yah soyam

Signing a song played in the white noise that surrounds me

nights like these past 7043,

Who chounted en chant em, enchantemgood

So no we are at what is a befinning place.
beginning (90's too ****, U2 too Northern Euro,
Green Day, Coolio,
Noise to a message dying to be heard
welcome to another
imaginary garden in an ever expanding mind

field of unthinkable things,
back then

we have whiteout but it doesn't work here

My culture had near simultaneous eruptions of supermarkets

and Fords.

This guy, his culture had near simultaneus disruptions of progress and
interruptions of information
some os were lost in the middle synchrony
instance if I cationic plus or minus
simaltan

Oh, I get it. You, dear reader, have been
out of it.
We went public with the entire plan for public
key distribution,
through six palanced stacks of energy stores

Chakra, chi, science make ya think eh. Polarize, see

everything groovy --no
[contemprayery idle intense ify AI keep us current]

lie, good, no lie is always safe. Don't wanna stumble any souls.

I was mentioned, my being a speaker in a story, I was said
to have said something, upon a time,
on the cover of the Rolling Stone,

I witnessed a lie being told and said my ears weren't garbage cans,
like a brainwashed cult

no, **** I was a cultivated follower of a confessed
follower cultivator.

I bloom when I imagine being treated as a mushroom,
I never paid much attention,
I never felt
insane
but
I can imagine
wee whatifs crept in… aha

The Olde Deluder, Satan, Act

that, a tiny gleam, a single ATP gone ADP

but there was light. A story I lived is now being told
without me,
oy vey Jah knowaddamean.

There was a wiseman, who,
by his wis-dom saved a city, and no one knew
that same wiseman's name,

proverbs are intentional games, the rules,
hiding a thing, done by God, glory ifies him
seeking out a matter, done by a being translated king,
transmutes that seeking into honor

Honor is hard to compare to the war flavored twists,
knots and tangles where woof and warp held

long long long before war was imagined, honor was.

A medal of honor for valor, what does it mean?

Leonard Wood got one. For his part in solving
the Apache problem.
He also,

Flash I had my wires crossed, in a way, it may
enlighten.
You see, I had thought that I had read Leonard Wood,
be cause I had imagined he was in New Jersey, but that
was Lord Amherst, Jeff

He tweerted ( wrote in a letter on paper we've a fact simile):
"to try Every other method that can serve to Extirpate this Execrable Race."

From <https://www.umass.edu/legal/derrico/amherst/lord_jeff.html>

Could be the source of the whole shores of triple ease retirement lure/trap/moneymoneymoney makeit fakit

I asked once, who's to blame and whose to blame,
samesame came an answer, I sware, quick as

next, twixt being and being possible,

realize

we do change things, in time, which,

if we can agree, is limited for us,
to now, no thens behind

mere, mere, mere ifs and whens ahead

be

--so there's been music all along
life's the song

skip a decade, like skippin' a grade

grad Harvard at a prepubescent 12

If I had a Hammer time, one message

one valiant try to be will smith,

Live and Learn, old man, say the dude on the radio
in he's hammaheadphones, cain't touch

Bomb. Jesus lent me Jael's hammer,
radioman nailed it.

If I had a hammer was the prayer,

MC, he was the Godsmacked nail in the coffin

Dark inside gothish messages hurgle and gurgle
guts twisted in freak pride love hate list lust

dichotomies of choice in ever learning
good citizenship worth honor and glory

of the sort men dare to die for, facing darkness,
the NULL set ***** and ***** and *****

This ain't gravity tuggin me,
this is that monster who lives forever in top forty radio

When/then Radioman emerges, Like the Mighty Quinn from

deep beneath Gibson's darkest ever imagined ICE wall…

What's on? (ellipses, do those mean POV shift or selah?)

I forget, s still all alchemistry t'me, if allyagots ahammass,

realize, if it matters, t'me, bubble bustin' need no nail.

I gotti'd a hamma, gonna hamma in the moan

O.G., mighty man of valor, where'dyew arise from?

We, the integrated us, non autonomous, inarrogant
We were dancin' to that I'm a Loser, Baby

so why don't cha killme, knowwad i'msayin

This old man been wandern in the desert far far far
side the madding crowd
making minced
meet
broken spirit. we goin together to a re-pair place

at the center of you'n'all you know, yo bubble but

--- everlearning everclear outlawed, good lawed
--- moon shine spiritment lauded out loud
--- the world all ways works when a garden is

beyond the pale,
Irish
rye whiskey, wheat bread liqui
if I were an
old gay ninties guy drinking ***** laudnum
singin'

on the corner with the hourus girl's c

Making the Con Next Ion, watchathank,
is it The Nineties A to Z , ending wit, it’s a hard
knawks life, or

a Bohr-TED talk or
a video of Schrödinger's  
verdamte dead cat?

Or am I surrounded by so great acloud of witnesses that some times I spend

simply hummin' along, life's beat me to the ground,

which gladly,
I'm so glad, I'm glad, I'm glad which

loses its meaning if you never experienced such a fall
ending in absorption of it all.
Ginger Baker, slam that cymbal, CRASH1

Life, in every key, there's a clue. Some where,
there's a lock on a true thing we need

to, eventually, know all things.

Keywords lost givitawaygivitawaygit it back tenfo'

Black spirit-filled tongue talkin' grandpa friend of
Johnny Walker, Red not Black,

He challenged me ye see. I recall what was on TV.
Nixon sayin' he,
honest he,
anti-****** he,
bombin invadin he was Notacrook, the super hero
he imagined

Bio is building energy, all the time does is
test the effort.

Is life lived this way worth the effort?
if/then/else

Who chose, integrated me, all the masks and voices I have accepted as ideas that can have apiece of me.

BTW, kids, even if an angel of light asks you to take a little piece of my heart, don't

yer killin me and I know where the next story started,

you are lost without me, fretnot, I'm the way

I heard that, that's no claim I mist'tok as my response.

Deeper, are we absobbing any thing, deeper tincture
of time, t'me see

POV
SameYesTodayForever (SYTF) protocols have been in place, as far as we know,

since words made sense naturally, eons ago, at least.

If you want my future then forget my past
musing medium messages sayin

what the hell? A game, you sayin' life's a game?

Ja, was oder vice nicks versus universal soldier godlet

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

I woulda danced with wolves to have changed
one mind that followed me

beyond that point,
no return, is such a mortal POV, you see
as far as you cansee

Deep. the gem. all the meaning ever was was
in that gem.

Dare me for no reason? Is that reasonable,
ration my tears to test my mettle

I went mad in 1995, have I made that plain?
Things crumbled around me for ten years,

I was helped by hoping I knew a truth about those
manifested imaginary gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning og every mystery unknown to man

eh, say again
gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning OhGEE every mystery unknown to man

lies lies lies they all were lies lies lies lies

I told you so, and it is still sweet to say
you know

You heard it all before, greatest test story ever told.
That was no test.
this is.

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

Epic stories deserve more than mere words,
but, you know, click,

words are what we make things from.

Tell me your stories,
she woulda seemed to whisper, woulda drained me drownd me
in just if I'd love linked

to the money machine of your dreams

had I not rode the grey dog outa Nashville,
back in '82,

I'da missed seein' flyover country that feels like mine,
when I take this POV.

Here in my heart I am Helen;
  I'm Aspasia and Hero, at least.
I'm Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Stael;
  I'm Salome, moon of the East.

Here in my soul I am Sappho;
  Lady Hamilton am I, as well.
In me Recamier vies with Kitty O'Shea,
  With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell.

I'm of the glamorous ladies
  At whose beckoning history shook.
But you are a man, and see only my pan,
  So I stay at home with a book.

Some say He is soft,
Others say He is evil.
Some say He is not visible,
Others say He has forsaken us.
Some say He no longer cares,
And some even dare to say that He doesn’t exist.
Many people say things about my God;
The creator of everything and anything since the beginning of time,
The Almighty who was, and is, and is to come.
The truth is though,
That not many people know my God.
I do not even understand fully who He is,
And I can only hope that the words written below do not insult him,
But rather, are pleasing to His ear,
Because this is my understanding of my God;
The maker of the heavens and the earth…

My God is omniscient,
Omnipotent,
Omnipresent,
And omniparent.
My God should not be underestimated,
And cannot be overestimated,
Because for any man to comprehend the power of my God,
Is impossible.
My God humbles the prideful,
And my God deserves all praise.
My God is the same God that created;
The great white shark that reigns in the water,
The grizzly bear whose one swipe can **** a man,
The tiger that haunts the jungles,
And the lion whose roar sends fear through mans bones…
And then said, “It is good.”
My God owns the thunder that shakes your house,
And my God shows the lightning where to strike.
My God can move mountains,
Divide a sea,
And wipe out the earth with a flood.
My God builds up ferocious volcanoes,
And my God carved out the mystifying caverns in the earth.
My God points out the path of raging rivers,
And my God delights in the crashing waves of the Bering Sea,
And finds joy in the force of Niagara Falls.
My God is the light so bright that,
You cannot look at Him without being blinded,
And the darkness trembles in fear at the mention of His name.
My God lodged the stone into Goliaths head.
My God sent Jael’s stake through Sisera’s skull.
My God transformed Moses’ staff into the snake,
Sent the locusts,
And promises fire.

Are you getting the idea yet?
But that’s only half of it,
Because my God has a whole other side.

My God wrote the premier poetry that is in the best selling book of all time,
That oh, by the way,
He wrote.
My God made the snow you sled on,
And the flowers you pick to put in a vase.
My God made the stars you lay out under,
And the planets and galaxies you can only dream about.
My God made the sunrise that is reason enough to wake up two hours early,
And the romantic sunsets you watch with your beloved.
My God painted the skies with the Northern Lights,
And breathed life into the wildflowers for extra decoration on the mountainsides.
My God carved out the Grand Canyon,
And my God sharpened the peak of Mount Everest.
My God put the tropical island paradises in the oceans,
And my God produced the crystal blue waters of Greece.
My God rendered the landscapes of Tuscany,
And my God created the vibrant birds of the jungles.
My God made the athletes you aspire to be like,
And the voices you listen to over the radio.
My God gave Shakespeare his imagination,
And Da Vinci the vision to paint the Mona Lisa.
My God made man and all his features,
And my God made a woman;
Who in all her luster and beauty is the pinnacle of my God’s creations.
My God brings a man and a woman together,
And puts in them a love like no other,
But still that extraordinary love doesn’t compare to His own love for us.
My God gives life to every pristine baby,
And then witnesses every moment of their lives.
My God made the water that quenches our thirst,
And my God fills the void in our heart.

There you have it:
My God is both ferocious and gentle,
Dangerous and loving,
Strong and merciful,
Powerful and overwhelming,
Mysterious and mystical,
Everlasting and present,
A guardian and a giver,
A warrior and a romantic,
A designer and an author.
My God is the lover of the rejected,
The judge of the high court,
The strength for the weak,
The defender of the defenseless,
The shepherd of the flock,
The general of the most opulent armies,
The savior of the broken,
And the redeemer of the lost.
My God will not leave,
But instead will always be by your side.
My God is devoted,
Dedicated,
Unwavering,
And unchanging.
My God is not threatened by your god,
And my God is supreme.
My God created the heavens and the earth,
And my God created you.
This is my God,
The God; Father, Son and Spirit.

Is this not prayer?
is this tool not the tool I hoped for? The pen
filled by the ever-flowing flowery ink
that re-news old knowns
left to ripen under bald and hoary heads
in stoney hearts softened by seventy years worth
of salty tears
and sad songs

"great was the number of them,
wombed ones all, who sang of the victory to be"

Miriam and Hannah, Deborah and Jael, who
retold those tales by the rivers of Babylon?

And who fueled the furnace seven times hotter,
to signal the unbelivable fourth.
being likend unto the son of god, though the
analogy seems
lacking evidence that the likeness can be reproved.
Look again.

This magi-tech converged from all the poetic,
pathetic
ethos of logo marks making proper
ification of a rythm's
un legit singin' in public,
on the corner, wit' Willie and the po'boys
beat me daddy six t' the bar---
Oh
--- those ethnic poundings on my skull,
--- send those feelings, urging, grow grow grow
--- 'til the roofs cain't hold hope in

then

hear come them ol' time thought cops,
wee gray dominees preparing dominoes for

one reason,
dominos are never stood to stand, but to fall

touching one, touching one, touching one

whisper, rest
the waiting is over, this is the time
to start all over.

you could say
she didn't know

I don't know, mebbe

but she knew
something

that wombed man,

I could tell

but she tells it better,

mysterious as hell, she says

I know a mother's love

no un-wombed, v. 1.0 ever can

even imagine

the pain
and the joy

knowin'

that head stompin'promise...

Remember that.

Love unfeigned, how can it be
Truly known: by deed or by word?


Take old Sisera for example, my lady,
Who fled with his glittering sword
To the tent of Jael, the beloved wife
Of Kenite, from the face of Barak.
And of her requested he for his life
Water, and she in action was not slack
To offer him milk instead, and did cover
Him again with a blanket. Sleeping in peace,
She crept softly to him with a hammer
And nailed down his temple with ease.
Yet to her did he entrust his safety,
Seeking from the smasher vain security.


Consider Joab, too, how he by his fine
Speech killled Amasa his worthy cousin;
Taking his beard with his right hand
As though he would give him a kiss grand,
Whilst his left hand had a thirsty dagger
Waiting; and he pierced the good feller
Through with his wicked blade. How the tongue
Of men do flatter oft in order to do wrong!

Axt would I, I sed yah soyam

Signing a song played in the white noise that surrounds me

nights like these past 7043,

Who chounted en chant em, enchantemgood

So no we are at what is a befinning place.
beginning (90's too ****, U2 too Northern Euro,
Green Day, Coolio,
Noise to a message dying to be heard
welcome to another
imaginary garden in an ever expanding mind

field of unthinkable things,
back then

we have whiteout but it doesn't work here

My culture had near simultaneous eruptions of supermarkets

and Fords.

This guy, his culture had near simultaneus disruptions of progress and
interruptions of information
some os were lost in the middle synchrony
instance if I cationic plus or minus
simaltan

Oh, I get it. You, dear reader, have been
out of it.
We went public with the entire plan for public
key distribution,
through six palanced stacks of energy stores

Chakra, chi, science make ya think eh. Polarize, see

everything groovy --no
[contemprayery idle intense ify AI keep us current]

lie, good, no lie is always safe. Don't wanna stumble any souls.

I was mentioned, my being a speaker in a story, I was said
to have said something, upon a time,
on the cover of the Rolling Stone,

I witnessed a lie being told and said my ears weren't garbage cans,
like a brainwashed culty.

no, **** I was a cultivated follower of a confessed
follower cultivator.

I bloom when I imagine being treated as a mushroom,
I never paid much attention,
I never felt
insane
but
I can imagine
wee whatifs crept in… aha

The Olde Deluder, Satan, Act

that, a tiny gleam, a single ATP gone ADP

but there was light. A story I lived is now being told
without me,
oy vey Jah knowaddamean.

There was a wiseman, who,
by his wis-dom saved a city, and no one knew
that same wiseman's name,

proverbs are intentional games, the rules,
hiding a thing, done by God, glory ifies him
seeking out a matter, done by a being translated king,
transmutes that seeking into honor

Honor is hard to compare to the war flavored twists,
knots and tangles where woof and warp held

long long long before war was imagined, honor was.

A medal of honor for valor, what does it mean?

Leonard Wood got one. For his part in solving
the Apache problem.
He also,

Flash I had my wires crossed, in a way, it may
enlighten.
You see, I had thought that I had read Leonard Wood,
be cause I had imagined he was in New Jersey, but that
was Lord Amherst, Jeff

He tweerted ( wrote in a letter on paper we've a fact simile):
"to try Every other method that can serve to Extirpate this Execrable Race."

From <https://www.umass.edu/legal/derrico/amherst/lord_jeff.html>

Could be the source of the whole shores of triple ease retirement lure/trap/moneymoneymoney makeit fakit

I asked once, who's to blame and whose to blame,
samesame came an answer, I sware, quick as

next, twixt being and being possible,

realize

we do change things, in time, which,

if we can agree, is limited for us,
to now, no thens behind

mere, mere, mere ifs and whens ahead

be

--so there's been music all along
life's the song

skip a decade, like skippin' a grade

grad Harvard at a prepubescent 12

If I had a Hammer time, one message

one valiant try to be will smith,

Live and Learn, old man, say the dude on the radio
in he's hammaheadphones, cain't touch

Bomb. Jesus lent me Jael's hammer,
radioman nailed it.

If I had a hammer was the prayer,

MC, he was the Godsmacked nail in the coffin

Dark inside gothish messages hurgle and gurgle
guts twisted in freak pride love hate list lust

dichotomies of choice in ever learning
good citizenship worth honor and glory

of the sort men dare to die for, facing darkness,
the NULL set ***** and ***** and *****

This ain't gravity tuggin me,
this is that monster who lives forever in top forty radio

When/then Radioman emerges, Like the Mighty Quinn from

deep beneath Gibson's darkest ever imagined ICE wall…

What's on? (ellipses, do those mean POV shift or selah?)

I forget, s still all alchemistry t'me, if allyagots ahammass,

realize, if it matters, t'me, bubble bustin' need no nail.

I gotti'd a hamma, gonna hamma in the moan

O.G., mighty man of valor, where'dyew arise from?

We, the integrated us, non autonomous, inarrogant
We were dancin' to that I'm a Loser, Baby

so why don't cha killme, knowwad i'msayin

This old man been wandern in the desert far far far
side the madding crowd
making minced
meet
broken spirit. we goin together to a re-pair place

at the center of you'n'all you know, your bubble but

--- everlearning everclear outlawed, good lawed
--- moon shine spiritment lauded out loud
--- the world all ways works when a garden is

beyond the pale,
Irish
rye whiskey, wheat bread liqui
if I were an
old gay ninties guy drinking ***** laudnum
singin'

on the corner with the hourus girl's

Making the Con Next Ion, watchathank,
is it The Nineties A to Z , ending wit, it’s a hard
knawks life, or

a Bohr-TED talk or
a video of Schrödinger's  
verdamte dead cat?

Or am I surrounded by so great acloud of witnesses that some times I spend

simply hummin' along, life's beat me to the ground,

which gladly,
I'm so glad, I'm glad, I'm glad which

loses its meaning if you never experienced such a fall
ending in absorption of it all.
Ginger Baker, slam that cymbal, CRASH!

Life, in every key, there's a clue. Some where,
there's a lock on a true thing we need

to, eventually, know all things.

Keywords lost givitawaygivitawaygit it back tenfo'

Black spirit-filled tongue talkin' grandpa friend of
Johnny Walker, Red not Black,

He challenged me ye see. I recall what was on TV.
Nixon sayin' he,
honest he,
anti-****** he,
bombin' invadin; he, was Notacrook, the super hero
he imagined

Bio is building energy, all the time does is
test the effort.

Is life lived this way worth the effort?
if/then/else

Who chose, integrated me, all the masks and voices I have accepted as ideas that can have apiece of me.

BTW, kids, even if an angel of light asks you to take a little piece of my heart, don't

yer killin me and I know where the next story started,

you are lost without me, fretnot, I'm the way

I heard that, that's no claim I mist'tok as my response.

Deeper, are we absobbing any thing, deeper tincture
of time, t'me see

POV
SameYesTodayForever (SYTF) protocols have been in place,
as far as we know,

since words made sense naturally, eons ago, at least.

If you want my future, then forget my past
musing medium messages sayin

what the hell? A game, you sayin' life's a game?

Ja, was oder vice nicks versus universal soldier godlet

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

I woulda danced with wolves to have changed
one mind that followed me

beyond that point,
no return, is such a mortal POV, you see
as far as you cansee

Deep. the gem. all the meaning ever was was
in that gem.

Dare me for no reason? Is that reasonable,
ration my tears to test my mettle

I went mad in 1995, have I made that plain?
Things crumbled around me for ten years,

I was helped by hoping I knew a truth about those
manifested imaginary gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and
the meaning of every mystery unknown to man

eh, say again
gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning OhGEE
the every mystery unknown to man

lies lies lies they all were lies lies lies lies

I told you so, and it is still sweet to say
you know

You heard it all before, greatest test story ever told.
That was no test.
this is.

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

Epic stories deserve more than mere words,
but, you know, click,

words are what we make things from.

Tell me your stories,
she woulda seemed to whisper, woulda drained me, drownd me
in just if I'd love linked

to the money machine of your dreams

had I not rode the grey dog outa Nashville,
back in '82,

I'da missed seein' flyover country that feels like mine,
when I take this POV.

In the realm of riddles, I shall weave a tale,
Of women who dared to risk, their spirits unveiled.
They belittled themselves, chained by their own doubt,
But within them, a fire burned, yearning to break out.

A call to action for those who undervalue their worth,
Who think beauty alone can grant desires on Earth.
Fashion's trends may sway, but cannot define,
The essence of a soul, radiant and divine.

Humble yet afraid to take a leap of faith,
They stood at life's crossroads, contemplating their fate.
For life, a game of truth and dare, they knew,
To seek the truth, risk must be embraced anew.

Abigail, the joy of her father, held the key,
When Nabal insulted David, her spirit flew free.
She acted quickly, in desperate times she knew,
Extreme measures were needed, her resolve true.

With gifts offered in secret, she soothed anger's fire,
Submissive and respectful, she fulfilled her desire.
Bowing before David, forgiveness she did seek,
Her courage shone bright, humble yet bold and meek.

Joanna, a name mentioned briefly in holy verse,
Willing to follow her Savior, her faith a rehearse.
Supporting Jesus and the apostles from her own means,
Connections to Herod's palace, where danger convenes.

Her husband Chuza, the right hand of the king,
Yet Joanna chose the path where faith takes wing.
Risking it all for her Lord, she stood strong,
Her dedication rewarded, she witnessed the empty tomb's song.

Rahab, known as a harlot, yet her past did fade,
When she risked her life, her loyalty displayed.
Spying for Joshua's men, hidden on her rooftop,
Lying to the king's men, her family's safety her hope.

Deborah, wise and courageous, a beacon of light,
An influential woman, standing firm in the fight.
As a prophet and priestess, God's voice she would hear,
Leading worship and preaching, casting aside fear.

With Barak and troops, she ventured to the fray,
The glory destined for a woman, prophecies would say.
But not Deborah herself, it was Jael who would stand,
Driving a tent peg through Sisera's head, bold and grand.

Esther, the Queen of Courage, in the palace she dwelled,
Never forgetting her roots, where she once excelled.
A loyal Jew, she held fast to her faith,
Trusting in God's wisdom, she prepared a banquet's wraith.

No blind rush, no heed to doubts and fear,
She approached King Xerxes, her voice crystal clear.
Risking her very life, she yielded to God's might,
Trusting His plan, walking in His guiding light.

Ruth, when her husband died, faced a choice,
To return to her kin or embrace a new voice.
Against doubt's agony, she held steadfast,
Choosing to stay with Naomi, her conviction unasked.

Her influence grew, as others took note,
Admired for her loyalty, a foreigner of note.
Favor gained from Boaz, protection sought under wings,
Her decision stood out, like vibrant colorful rings.

A woman who stood apart, shining so bright,
Impressing the town and elders with her inner light.
May God make her like Rachel and Leah, they blessed,
A pillar in Ephrathah, her name forever impressed.

To the women who ponder their worth and might,
Who belittle themselves, yet yearn to take flight,
I ask you now, in the face of life's glare,
Will you embrace risk's dare and dare to dare?

It rumbles and roars
The rage I harbor in my bones
Unsung song of contention
Bitter and bilious in my mouth
Because when I tried to speak,
nobody was listening

Boundries of consent are drawn at home
And maintained before being extended
To a world where Xanthippe is a slur
Between giving up a career and giving in to a creep
There isn't much of an option

Shame is the best weapon after fear
In the arsenal of patriarchy
Ammo of choice for its sari draped agents
To keep young women in line lest they
Sprout a tongue or mind of their own

Decades of silence has fed the fire of rage
Licking and moulding my contours
Till I turn into Jael yielding pen
Refusing to be a collateral any longer, ready
To nail Sisera, with or without a Barak to celebrate

The soldier and the sailor know
the price they have to pay-
the lover and beloved know
which heart will leave, or stay.

In a world where lies are truth disguised
and every Sisera has his Jael-
the people stand and watch, appalled
at the bitterness of betrayal.

Mrs Malaprop got away, a way, I mean, a way
wit words

she can say shitistic stuff as if stuffit were a joy,

when she says it, while
telling
still silken legs crosse demurely,

the delicate ankle

that made monks blush and blurt out
confession,
MY GAWD,

rolling, clockwise, as she sees it,
counter to my

FPS POV, but we both see the direction,

east, the earth is turning east from now
to then when
you become wel here in now.

Recall the lesson of flat land, whoever taught it
coulda been AE Wilder-smith hammered

Jael's nail home,
Couldabin, mightabeen Sagan made the killing blow

young earth shattered.

Fossils seeped their living substance into stone,

petrific, ter ific magnetic trick of missed percepticons

fired fully of the intention, I must mention,

stretching truth to cover conjecture when ideas

like what happened in the "Cambrian" being being
explosive become

purposeful in minds of men, wombed or un---

--- once
--- before you knew, that hapt.
--- and, god, did men make up storys.

on track. Back when men first imagined doing

making, art arose and
we all know
a rose, by any other name is a rose.

That's the idea in self evidence. It's a key to
the Declaration of Independence making sense,

at the level of we, the people, who know
self-evident non-thingables, when we hold them.

At first, they feel like sleepy puppies. These
truths we hold selfevidently right.

Baiting master critics, come ******* pi tyed to Beanie Baby auctions
from 1995... old bb cred be called anarchisic auto did act-ism did do done

get out the way boomer budsomine, we done.
Give the kids the bombs.

Serious or humorous, or amourous, or mysterious

thrillers, puzzlers, riddlers
hero saviour feminine wiles, Jael's nail, at one point

intime intimate clang rang human-ity's little brain,

at a granular level barely perceptible to a naked child,

much less to one circumscribing rules or orderly grammer
hammar
pre
positioned arrangements of raw material, each quest has filled this horde.

lines of lines in OneNote format,
replicate
to plain text even toned audio to be pleasant when spoken

at ease, you asked me if I knew a reason for war, any more,

and I said no
you know,
by now, I took part in several sorts of wars, two ... three, with guns
and knives,

lives... we live a life in the mind of every person who believes we
know one another,

all the me we see in those we think know us not,
these are living words a-ranged on a plan plain sans dis
couraging words. hear hi you silver and say

how stupid was that, but it worked,
better than minecraft, fewer rules, in my realm

my best black friend worshipped Silver Surfer, I just remebered...

as good as any on tv, and virtually indistinguishexistting wish able

from a Hogwarts dorm, or post first Wuwuchin discussion among the
old men in front of the new men, who stood tall

ready to take the old mans burden,
he say
hey ya'll heh yall, peace beyon' ye now,

see some how say I see how I see how I see how

Hia watha had song for ever's single season

after we are born we live and learn and die, or
after we are born we live and are informed to be a we

we imagine,
as we age, when comes a time we say, war is stupid, and you all
knowit knowit knowit gnostic snot 'snot 'snots

dripping through the NAND NAND NAND gates mr. feynman
wasn't joking, yo

Cal local, hitchin' highway one, for fun, nothin' to do but wonder if

the future is worth waithing material being a waiting thing

or a wu wei thang, watch thise, one blow, hammer time

see. In a word a thousand stories, in a picture a mere thousand words.

O mother how I grieve you. Survivor of a thousand
Summers, you take your place in the song
Of mothers long past. You are not alone there,
O wise one, your mother, and her mother
Have taken your hand and lead you in to a dream.
A dream where I can not follow.

I think of Otrera the warrior queen, of wives
beaten down only to arise as phoenixes.
O brave Amazon, your legacy lives on in Hippolyta and
Hermia, your wild daughters becoming women.

Beyond her is Jael, O wife of a Kenite, and the
Mutilated corpse of Sisera, the foolish king
Who thought her weak. Your blood waters the
Dust, your handsome face cracked right through
By her mighty blow. O great king, will you
Scorn her femininity now?

When I am weary, I shall think of Elizabeth,
A queen who sunk an armada and reformed
The churches with a single order. Where is
Your husband? You have no need of him.

They are joined by Boudica and
Her wild head of curls. I believe you
Will be good friends O warrior of
Sleepless nights. For you have both
Spat in the eyes of men and defied your
Empires for the sake of freedom.

Sylvia holds your hand tenderly now,
O mother of my youth. Her torment has
Passed now, and so will yours too. For
A dream is too ethereal a place for scars.

I wondered if you would be afraid
When you took your place among the
Mothers of the ancients, and yet time has
Showed me a picture of you, holding court
Amongst them with your steaming *** of
Lady Grey. Graceful as a queen.

Your children who live on in this world
Will remember you. O wise one,
You eat men like air. And like a
Phoenix I will become you.

After Barak demurs at the behest of the prophetess Deborah, God turns Sisera (commander of King Jabin's army) over to Jael, who kills him by driving a tent peg through his skull after he enters her tent (Judges 4:17–21) near the great tree in Zaanaim near Kedesh.