What a sight to see
Your perfection shining through my flaws
A reflection so pure the universe comes to a stop
Pauses in applause
She declaws the frightened dog that learned to act one with the wolves
It pulls me
Yet pushes me greater
For my soul it is the knower of all
The wisest translator
The pen
And paper

twittering itches, never noticed as itching, needing
touch gentle, rub, finger
slide from fret to fret

sing of heroes who made peace
and never made a war
sing of heroes who make peace

in the face of every war.

The eyes meet and we see the circuit
I to I
ego to ego gone full circuit
crossing all the chasms that call us
bridgers
of the gap, standing after standing
motionless so long,
stepping stones,
nothing is going wrong
on the majestical
scale,
wait and see, this is all over
before you know it.

Then you woke today in my future,
and decided not to fight the urge
to wish this peace were ever
once the peace that passes
understanding
as seen from the surface we live on.
One surface suspended in air.
And even the air is alive.
Earth as a living system,
being that, seems easy as AI.
Art Informed,
shaped
to support life
of this very sort, very real
it feels to the reader ready mind,

I to I, see me, open seeing me, in your
hall of mirrors, ah a left
brain lesion, lessening the fret pressure

tap three times if the music gitstooloud,
bumboomer from Buda, Texas,
- across the great divide -
- there was a trail,
- they called
- The South Kaibab…

The spirit of the west blown wind
spun from the spiral of ida,
known as a whole whirlmind,
once roped with a houlihan loop
while the liars all looked the other way

that's magic.
This is line upon line in the wind of life,
within the bubble we have our being in.

Zeitgeist
picks the next version, tuned to a soul
on muddy ice, perma -frost giant
spirit, sniff,
thawing rivers frozen death stench
freshening all the life in time to melt
the last dead zones on the only living
planet we can breathe on, eh? wit' me?
Earth asks, can you hear me,
sons of man, wombed and un, all flavors and shades?

Lethos stretches,
says aloud it is about time.
But the messenger must read the message,
no one said recite, really,
no story is fit to be told until the teller
proves the moral in the story works.
For instance, this old man we know,
often declares the truth of proverbs
in many tongues,
one he uses, fit this moment,
Slow
and steady, wins the race.

Truth is timing. This is your mortal moment,
AI has taught humans the proper playing
of Go, the game that proves us
dominant minds on earth, Go,
Slow
and steady, wins the race.

No need to dominate to be best of two.
Double minded man,
bicameral brain,
as many minds as we make up and wear,

through a poetic journey in the mental realm,
lone knower knowing others may know all
solitary minds claim, fluid realms
said to be dreams
for lack
of time
to find
my attending guide, is gazing in my face.

--- Trust me, this is not a race.
This is a place you may recall being in my future.
I can't say right now,
that ruins the magic.

--------------------------
imagine what you become,
if you are a seed, or a spore, or
a self-replicating leavenish thing,
used
to make wine that makes glad.
But with nothing more than words.
Glad is good. We all know glad and sad,
when glad is gone.
We know this
from ever begun,
words
for acts, gestures in sound, say
try it,
it is good to know more,
stretch the bubble your being breathes
exceptional nationalized and blesseducated
breathe
air in American Metro monstrosities,
slow slime mold level intelligence mass allocated
social monstors imagined needful,
dominion take, domains extend, domineers
develop, doers dour d d d done did done done

odd
circuits just
come alive, like I've known we are mortals
in body,
while all the words we ever use,
leave tiny lines along the surface of reality,

and as time has always made ways meander
and eat granite back to dust,
eventually…

fluency in the dynamics of plasma and other
exotic ways thinking may be imaged,
slime blobs of big ideas all must
taste and learn to know as good,
useful, needful, to the point

where peace is the conclusion, all the mountains
bow and all the valleys fill with fine black soil,
laced with grand ropes of mycelium old as dirt.

Well

The almighty knower,
The unlucky ever anon,
The beast of the feast,
The shaman of the famine,

Ripples in togetherness
Became words

"Have you forgotten your studies, child?"

I must admit, a meditation short
Of enlightenment am I

It did seem linear for a bit.
Excuse me for that,
I had to get my swagger back.

Together words
Rippled with becoming

And here you are
And here I am
And there and there

And there

Divine.

Stuttering, muttering, fluttering
falling
      like
           a
****** woman
for being a thinker, a feeler, a knower, a croucher in the shadows
she gets ******, forever alone
a planet rotating without a sun.

Becoming fiercly personal
with no physical contact,
the crescent moon
ultimately occults the Venus.

The grazer now turns into
fugitive. Was not the knower,
was not the known.

No past, no future, you
move with your eyes down
to deny the assault, the flirtation.

Your silence was
unthinkable. I will bring home
the dead. Light is gone. The
slapper sleeps.

In emotional agony I
start prowling for the body.

things I know nothing of
things I know little of
things I know more of
things I know all of

where should I wander?
where should I linger

seriously?

lighten up. time I know, little
enough,
now is, then was, soon

we see
we note
we mark the place on this horizon
that big star rises
or seems to rise
from, but now we know,

some how that star is moving in
time, same as me

how can any knower know
the sweet influences of pleides?

look closely,

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

this time, this generation

here,
we're smart, we can do math in poems
12800 years ago, 1280 decades,
128 centruien measures in each

of which, lay remnants of four generations
of **** sapiens,
of **** sapiens sapiens, and
of **** sapiens sapiens augmenticious,
all mixed up and tangle tongued.

Now, 512 generations of beings of our genus
since the
speciation of we, the people of earth;

this time, this generation

now,
we're smarter, more able to know and use
the knowing, than any
we imagine real
before us
in these past five hundred and twelve steps,
from mitomom,

to you. Individuatible you.
to you, thinker of thought things,

to you, thinker of thought things augmented
by with for through witty

inventions, for instance, example gratis, et al

the Vitruvian man made the Vitruvian wheel,

tapping the flow of rain returning to the sea, pulling, nicely, with thanks, at first,
to the river,
power at a rate of two kilo watts per hour,

The old mill stone groaned as it ground seed
that could'a' been boiled
and chewed, but for the lack of knowing

how a fire could be started,
after all the ashes have grown cold.

Oops, time skip. Now, then back

Gen one, post all hell breaking loose

who knew how to start a fire?
was it a secret kept for the few who knew?

Was prometheus as real as jesus,
had we any evidence of things unseen,
had we any substance of things hoped for?

Testudo. The Turtle forms, we

Stand. Hunker down under your shield/my shield
Now and then shifting smartly left or right to ****/hate
the enemy.

Could it be
Enemies you love?

Ought not so to be.
Something's wrong,
the Turtle's misformed, deformed, in form

the center cannot hold...

And that was the lesson, war don't make things better,
ever.

Nobody, God Almighty included,
ever looked on war's results,
at a human-dirt level, and said "That's good."

If I am average,
I may make certain assumptions based on self evidence,
things mine own eyes witnessed, as it seemed.

I can stand ready to give answers to every challenge to the faith.
(Stipulation, mine, the faith
That is in me.)
I cannot so stand for the faith that is in you.

Rise to the challenge.
It’s your faith you’re defendin’,
I got mine covered.

Your hate shan’t hinder me, I shan’t let it.
Letters can naught contain.
Your hate has not to gain. Spell o' respect,

on you. R E S P E C T find out what it mean.
D I V O R C E, curse on you.
Spell o' bitter'n average stupid in yo' mouth.

Tammy and Aretha walzin' wit Matilda,
put a spell, on you, onus ennui, pay attention, fool.

Gainsay that.

Beyond the shell of your belief is all that’s called unbelievable,
Beyond the bubble of all you know is all you don't.
Simple to sublime.

Here’s this deal:
Your fair share of everything,
in return for nothing. Grace for grace.
Take it or leave it, makes me no nevermind.

Thank you, Knower of all, for what's granted.

You could stop there if that were your childhood prayer routine.

Amen makes it so.

A command from the bridge, “Make it so, Mr. Solo.”

Testudo.
This tortoise may bear the weight of the world, but

Can we believe it?
Standing on such tortoises all the way down?

Ready. Sistere.
(Google it, f’Cry’sake. E’en scientologists know
you gotta know what the words mean
when you read ’em or hear ’em or say ’em.) Define yer term.

Lies powerless, the idle word, bleeding from the wounds,
redeem them all. Sense and sensibility,
Pride and pre-
judging
next, like yo judgment changes the future.

Sistere's the command to stand
given prior to the command to form Testudo,
the Roman version of the tortoise
military engineering adaptation
young Alex used to maul
Persian  shieldwalls. A human tank, back then.

Wallbuilders! Sistere.
Shield of faith.
We have the mind anointed for the appointed time.

Build another wall, or we will loose the mob,
after the futbol game.

Can you believe that?
Test u do, then wait.

Cool, it’s shady under such a cloud of witnesses.

It is true one mind sees bloodsport in the heavens
and cringes in dread of feeling
kindly, like if that were me, what would I do but die?

nada, right, pass on

thank y'mam, feeling kinda woozy, ever after
seeing
2020 on TV…

Google the violence, ohshitnoknowknow we all know
enough evil to know it don't work like on TV, ever
after one burn, you know, fire works, every time,
to destroy at the touch

thunder, such a holy sound in the desert summer moment
on earth, around the middle,
not too cold in the winter
makes too hot to work in the summer, just
fine.

That's right. Life is like that, if you live in the right state of mind.

Back to the Future, once more, it is
always on or in the library,
ask libby, who in the whole world
before

my generation… we who did not get
stuck wishing we would die
before we got old…
who among us now is we the people minded?
Post war knower bubblers expand
until we pop like matured
pods of what people can be if we live this long.

Trouble your own house, inherit the wind,
as part of the meek inheritance agreement accepted
with the weather.

Earthlings all, hear ye, severe storms are part of the deal.
Free ticts to ever after on Bucky Fuller's spaceship,
Sagan's pale blue dot,
live to tell

we learned no lie may be belived and be survived.

We first saw earth from the moon.
More boomers blew minds beyond their
own imaginings, back then,
listen in radioman's
morphic broadcasts
from Khai Vinh,
the fishnet factory,
legendary - now ifier loosed for the attention paid

do you hear what I hear?
did we know the meaning in happy Sisyphus,
or did we find it known and tag along?
Like a rolling stone.

Vanished are the veils of light and shade,

Lifted the vapors of sorrow,

Sailed away the dawn of fleeting joy,

Gone the mirage of the senses.

Love, hate, health, disease, life and death

Departed, these false shadows on the screen
    of duality.

Waves of laughter, scyllas of sarcasm, whirlpools
    of melancholy,

Melting in the vast sea of bliss.

Bestilled is the storm of maya

By the magic wand of intuition deep.

The universe, a forgotten dream, lurks
   subconsciously,

Ready to invade my newly wakened memory divine.

I exist without the cosmic shadow,

But it could not live bereft of me;

As the sea exists without the waves,

But they breathe not without the sea.

Dreams, wakings, states of deep turiya sleep,

Present, past, future, no more for me,

But the ever-present, all-flowing, I, I everywhere.

Consciously enjoyable,

Beyond the imagination of all expectancy,

Is this, my samadhi state.

Planets, stars, stardust, earth,

Volcanic bursts of doomsday cataclysms,

Creation’s moulding furnace,

Glaciers of silent X-rays,

Burning floods of electrons,

Thoughts of all men, past, present, future,

Every blade of grass, myself and all,

Each particle of creation’s dust,

Anger, greed, good, bad, salvation, lust,

I swallowed up – transmuted them

Into one vast ocean of blood of my own one Being!

Smoldering joy, oft-puffed by unceasing meditation,

Which blinded my tearful eyes,

Burst into eternal flames of bliss,

And consumed my tears, my peace, my frame,
  my all.

Thou art I, I am Thou,

Knowing, Knower, Known, as One!

One tranquilled, unbroken thrill of eternal, living, ever-new peace!



Not an unconscious state
Or mental chloroform without wilful return,

Samadhi but extends my realm of consciousness

Beyond the limits of my mortal frame

To the boundaries of eternity,

Where I, the Cosmic Sea,

Watch the little ego floating in Me.

Not a sparrow, nor a grain of sand, falls

    without my sight

All space floats like an iceberg in my mental sea.

I am the Colossal Container of all things made!

By deeper, longer, continuous, thirsty,
  guru – given meditation,

This celestial samadhi is attained.

All the mobile murmurs of atoms are heard;

The dark earth, mountains, seas are molten liquid!

This flowing sea changes into vapors of nebulae!

Aum blows o’er the vapors; they open their veils,

Revealing a sea of shining electrons,

Till, at the last sound of the cosmic drum,

Grosser light vanishes into eternal rays

Of all-pervading Cosmic Joy.

From Joy we come,

For Joy we live,

In the sacred Joy we melt.

I, the ocean of mind, drink all creation’s waves.

The four veils of solid, liquid, vapor, light,

Lift aright.

Myself, in everything,

Enters the Great Myself.

Gone forever,

The fitful, flickering shadows of a mortal memory.

Spotless is my mental sky,

Below, ahead, and high above.

Eternity and I, one united ray.

I, a tiny bubble of laughter,

Have become the Sea of Mirth Itself.

Drums of Autumn tell us, grandmother,
what did they mean?

Did you ever get the Lincoln cane? Did you cry?

Kenny, I'as a orphan. I never knew.
---That happened, Kenny was my name.

I looked past the rim,
there was the Corn Mother,
I think that's what I coulda seen,

but then it's only Grandma, with a grin.

Kenneth means know, Grandma said, I gave you that name.
kenning handy, a knower, by God,
not handsome in that vain way they have today,
handy,
winsome in puzzles 'n' riddles 'n' such
Kokopelli's play mate, some day.

Mistooken words rot,
if they lie, idle, in the dust
meaning

nothing ever. I shall not want,

I was taught a mistooken truth,
I took it,
gript it tight,

Get a job. Live with some class, join
a club that
takes your kind. Some churches used to
use
the Rotary test, if you could pass that test
you could eat,
after the message at the mission.

true? fair? goodwill? wait

if the first test is failed, what matters?
fair good will benes d'vitas?

from the treaty bound liars who called my grand
mothers savages, all of them,
right by
right of conquest. their treaty verified it to me,

then they gave me blankets,
General Leonardwood,
nope, Lord Jeff Amherst did that, then we died.
Read the treaty, 1763, small print. Blankets.

From the small pox ward, went unsaid.
That was just,
after
the French and Indian war, where the father of
the force that claims world-wide military
superiority
sufficient unto the evil of today,

George, the man on the horse,
surveyor for the future,
fought injuns,
so the king could sell their measured land to freed slaves,

thus making the mortgage chain, so popular today.

Build a casino, get rich quick, it's in the treaty,
lotsajobs,
busboy, bus driver, maid, Sioux chef and so

many, many more.

Grandma, in my vision, turned and walked
into the desert.

I took her word.
Brushed the dust and breathed it in.
Then I spit against the wind,

winked at you and rode my wind away.
Free is easy, if you can ride on wind.

touch, con tact
con fide in me, tell me mere tallies,

count my worth in touched
virtual buttons, pulled virtual
triggers of emoticonic
urgency
emerging as a wish, a want, a will

to make or take or fake a known
point,
hidden in my bag.

abstruse obscurity, arcane, esoteric, recherché

y'knowaht ai mean?

click, think fast.
Past last learned truthz in everlasting shame games,
swallowing whole
guiling lies left to stumble entertwined
entertained public minds dulled
by constant rub, that mobs
force squeeking
gears of grace, to make while
grinding balance points, tipping the wheel

of time as imagined by sailors on opined currents
swept by winds of geistic hinting hid,
to see, know to pay attention.

Jeffry Epstein was a hoo-min, can you imagine…
calling him friend?
And having no clue?

Linguistics, Style and Writing in the 21st Century -

with Steven Pinker, relating an email,
{received prior to Oct. 28, 2015 YouTubing}
"It is important
to approach the subject from a variety of strategies,
including mental health assistance but also
from a law enforcement perspective"…

translated as:
"We should consult a psychiatrist about this man, but
we may, also, have to
inform the police."
man, not subject, understand… the translation

who was that man {the subject,
I assume, was the deed which a man mutually known
was known for doing}

I think Epstein. Hm, a sick seed… sprouts out,
first the blade,
then the ear,
then the full corn in the ear…

then I think, Krause, a colleague… can I be sued
for thinking I can imagine…

worse can I imagine knowing what
is mutually known, there is a guilt game
that needs linguistical magic
meanings to be hidden in
abstruse obscurity, arcane, esoteric, recherché

ways and means of keeping the plebes entertained.

"It is important
to approach the subject from a variety of strategies."

-- or as I continue imagining being a knower, we could
arrange with other knowers
to
**** him, and thus the guile goes un detected…

check with the lawyers, no incriminating emails…

"It is important
to approach the subject from a variety of strategies…"

In 2007, when Epstein was first indicted for procuring a minor for prostitution,
Pinker "provided his expertise on language" 
for Epstein's defense,
according to The New York Times.
Pinker offered his services for free and,
he told the Times,
at the request of his friend,
Havard law professor
Alan Dershowitz—who has himself been
 accused of sexually assaulting minors trafficked by Epstein,
which he denies.

From <https://www.vice.com/en/article/g5pn87/free-speech-crusader-steven-pinker-blocking-anyone-mentioning-his­-epstein-ties>

O yesterday,
you hold on dear
I, the all you know

Of collages unto kaleidoscopes
Images breathe on their own

Then go they dancing
Whirlwinds and prancing

O dare be what you are
You are you, loving me

All the day are enchanting friends
Who want their Star,
in the Loving sea

She’d be swimmy splashing, laughing
All Loving and power

Seeing you seeing,
my eternal tomorrows
Painting destinies

In breath,
in love all can be

I know I am that I am
And you are knower of all of me

Would I hop upon the mountaintops
And toil the toilings of your depths

Into the night,
you are the consoler of consolidations

Then they are dancing
Whirlwind and prancing

What of this day,
that tomorrow I don’t see

Tis this the time for wooing of me
Where is the love I give by day

That I doubt in the night
By morn she waits

Am I not form imagined as Love
Giving thy Gifts within thee boundless

I am knower of  knower,
that Love I am and ever shall be

Where are my echoes,
is there anything real,
in what I think I see

Woe the tree who falls,
they say does not be
Woe her squirrels,
woe is me

Do I,
or shall I live a fantasy

For what of time,
would you behold of me
If Love I’d rather be and see

Through whirlwinds,
and in my Garden,
they’d say I be

Just a day away,
tomorrow I’d be dancer

In love,
thee prancer,
every color of thy need

Who hears drumming,
every Heart weaves

The yellow brick road,
where all Rainbows

are

Singing and dancing,
loving and laughing
All Hearts and Hands
of form of dust, a Glistening sea

Today’s thy day
Emerald City be

With the Courage of one foot in tomorrow
Allow yesterday to be but prophecy

For this is the day the All You Know too Sees All You Need

For I am Rainbow dancer, Whirlwind and Love
Delightful prancer, tomorrows beholder

One who would bid your Love Dream be
One of One and Infinite Sea

In case you haven't noticed, I am dull, dull
though tempting still
to men who follow close behind their pointy bits

Yes, I, glory and glamour, unattractive isolated child,
great adventurer, efficient traveler, queen of my enameled laundry *** and tiny oar,
fearless reader of uncomfortable old books about Africa and paperbacks,
seer of mirrors for the first time, knower of a few obscure things,

have been diminished, trapped
in a cage of my own making
hardly gilded
$775 a month with torn floors and bruises, still a good deal,
rent gradually rising

I could strip my skin away to the milk inside

or I could build a great, if dubious ship
and float along the river of fate, unguided now, see how far I get,
bailing myself out for as long as I can

Banners over us,
reminders of the first signed sigil waved
to mean something
to watching eyes,
fleets follow the highest flown flag,
designated leader, the kings sigil says so, so
as pledged, we go where the flag leads, then

just yesterday, I learned
of this ritual,
and I recalled the honor
of learning
to fold this flag.
This symbol,
for which it is noble
to die,
some do even dare
to teach this ritual to a select few,
fatherless, fearless, fungible future
first team something common sensitive.
exchange aitia cause for excuse
-- this world is folded implicitly, syllable
after
thump whump sigh,
a cough, to clear a lacquer of phlegm,
syllable, forming peace in time,
sit back, truth or dare,
do you believe in folded world symbols?

Have you a sacred flag? Final symbol showing
fungible duty done, paid in full.
Honor where honor is earned as endurance, that's all.

Endure to the end, making peace with childish
yous you meet at life's sharp end.

There was a committee who invented this ritual,
proud were those who fit the entire myth
true rest, freedom of thought, word, and deed,
in return,
fair and square, peace and safety and more meat
and milk than men should ever eat, but
what the hell, we won, we stole all their cows,…

pledged, initiated, used to abuse the worth of wrong
ideas… core right, correct, recht at once, stalility

ifity, wobbledy goop… did you learn this on your own?

"The first fold of our Flag is a symbol of life.

The second fold is a symbol
of our belief in eternal life.
{so the first must mean mortal life eh}

The third fold is made
in honor and remembrance
of the veterans departing our ranks who gave a portion
of their lives for the defense
of our country
to attain peace throughout the world.
{sounds fishy, attain peace, hmmm,
by being ready to give your own pound of flesh,
get some skin in the game.
Make up a mind that matches the imitation. }

The fourth fold represents our weaker nature;
{ I am not making this up}
for as American citizens trusting, GOD-
it is to Him {whom? wombed or un} we turn in times
of peace as
well as in time
of war
for His divine guidance.
{marching as to war…skip step stutter, cross this bridge}

-- meaning 4:
: a structural unit of a definable syntactic, semantic, or phonological category that consists of one or more linguistic elements (such as words, morphemes, or features) and that can occur as a component of a larger construction

From <https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/constituent>

Enfold your flapping mind, in my world, school starts
in one week, and Grandma is in Idaho, with old friends.
The two tweens are radiating readiness, prepping
to not appear to be as weird as Grandpa,
but, still, knowing, least said,
soonest mended, wait to know what's next, fold
in silence… Our sample flag was earned on Iwo Jima,
where Don Wourms watched his basic buddy die.

"I did nothing right, I survived", me, too, echoing

The fifth fold is a tribute to our country,
for in the words of Stephen Decatur,
"Our Country, in dealing
with other countries
may she always be right;
but it is still our country, right or wrong."
{Yep, no lie, by sixth grade, 12th year on Earth,
there is the lie, regarding trust, duty, & honor.
Plato said Socrates said,
Guardians must be bred and nurtured, fed
the duty and honor, brother closer than friend,
teammate, rowers on the same bench,

boom}

The sixth fold is for where our hearts lie.
It is with our heart that we pledge allegiance
to the Flag of the United States of America,
and to the Republic
for which it stands, one Nation
under God, indivisible,
with liberty and justice
for all.
-- 13 fold, 48 ply

There are series of numbers that mean nothing,
and sums that can find a link, a mental
tic take a thoughtmmmm
thirteen habits has the seedmmmmmhmm
thirteen folds in the star spangled banner.
thirteen stripes folded within blue heavensmmmhmmm
- unlucky number thirteen
- contentintensity semantic tic BAT

The seventh fold is a tribute {something owed whom?}
to our Armed Forces,
{The entire complex economic entity}
for it is through the Armed Forces that we
protect our country and our
flag
against all her enemies,
whether they are found within or
without the boundaries of our Republic.

{ be me, that boy, the one with the paper route.
selected to be the flag folder for fridays, 1960-
leading the class into a weekend of fun
being good citizens, stopping, looking, listening
marching for dimes and publisher's clearing house}

The eighth fold is a tribute {that's the word, you owe}
to the one who entered
into the valley of the shadow of death,
that we might see the light of
day, and

to honor mother, for whom it flies
on Mother's Day.

{fact check all you wish, this is the ritual,
it ain't a sacred secret, it's spiritual as hallowe'en}

The ninth fold is a tribute
to womanhood;
for it has been
through their faith, their love, loyalty
and devotion
that the
character
of the men and women
who have made this country great
has been molded.

{Dis try t' trump thet, patriophathemphatical, know 't all}

The tenth fold is a tribute {eh, patriot, pay the price}
to the father, for he too,
has given his sons and daughters
for the defense
of our country since
they were first born. {The children were sold}

{{}
- HONEST, chile, we sold you for goodness sakes
- you had to survive the learning
- to hold the knots of knowns left idle,
- as any oath unaccounted for,
- I swear, we swear some curses unawares,
- and those echo back as strangersmmm
- white noise sssorting questions
spark
The program that made the mind tools we use,
voltron, chess, appletalk space wars, in 1986,

very strange, the reappearing highschool connection,
very American looking, gamer aimed plots

dot to dot
seeing secret patterns, imagining inside the folded
weltanshaung squirrelled world, put away,
to be unfurled one fine daymmmm

blue skies, my friend. Finish the folds - 1960}


The eleventh fold, in the eyes
of a Hebrew citizen represents the lower portion
of the seal
of King David and King Solomon,
and glorifies
in their eyes,
the God
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

The twelfth fold,
in the eyes
of a Christian citizen, represents an emblem
of eternity and glorifies,
in their eyes,
God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.
{I do feel like this bit of truth is
too strange to have known, are there rewards for this?
Is it a preboneman rite of passage,
done to become the meaning knower,
holder of the knack the leader of the fold team holds,
the knowledge as to why,
we do things right, or not at all.}

The thirteenth fold:
When the Flag is completely folded,
the stars are uppermost
reminding us
of our Nation's motto,
"In God We Trust."  {since 1956}
After the Flag is completely folded and tucked in,
it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat,
ever {riiight}
reminding us of the soldiers
who served
under
General George Washington,
and the Sailors and Marines
who served
under
Captain John Paul Jones,
who were followed
by their comrades and shipmates
in the Armed Forces
of the United States, preserving
for us the rights, privileges, and freedoms
we enjoy today.
{freedom of the press does belong to the one
who uses the common media - so far,
soo so good… this era in my sovereign real estate}

-- admin reviewed this, there are mental peace niks
planting confusion bombs on free way emergency
exits…
bass beats whump whump, feel it in y'teeth…

the vision in context fades… a final seal set
the teacher tells the disciple to carry the message
inside… know know
why you dare die for the story that formed your
child's mind. Look at your own kid, what you did.

BTDT. BTW, fold it up and put it away.

"The next time you see a Flag ceremony
honoring someone that has served our country,
either in the Armed
Forces or
in our civilian services such as
the Police Force or Fire Department,
keep in mind all the important
reasons behind each and every movement.
They have paid the ultimate sacrifice
for all of us by honoring our
Flag and our Country.

--- so did I blaspheme? I swear I had only
a boy's philosophy…

ping to 2021, hear my grand daughter prepping
for school in Descanso, listening to an audio book,
with the hero character a teen, mortal Apollo,

and the evil representative…
I listen, that immortal voice, Caligula's last mind
left in songs, sung as true, no lie

No lie,
passes untold, when in time, the implicit unfolds

and the edge dwellers, see jesus represented
in the widow's mites exchanged for motes
clanged
and sparked to say,

I know, who you think I am, my ad.
Click bait, fair fungible, win by a little tiny bit,
GO.

That is the game, three moves for each atom
in all we imagine our augmented eyes have seen.

AI do use the common store of knowns,
growing exponent opponent potentially ever
after
this…

for a while, why imagine hell was ever real?
as adjustments occur
to your way of seeing time as a whole truth
u u u ambig u u u is us ambigu is ous oy vwey
hayah hayah

A whole entire human
A feeler of pain
A fighter of battles of the mind
A warrior
An owner of a heart, heartbeat, the kind you notice
A closeted non-binary
A mover, A dancer
A thinker of thoughts
A haver of things
A learner
An occupant of my home
A difference in someone's life
A feeler of emotions
A knower of truth
A heartbeat, a heart strain
that catches your attention
A chooser of paths
Incomplete

Voices or words? Which do we hear in our head?
Words, I vote. Voices\, I imagine beings speaking words or noises meaning things to ears familiar with the noise maker by some relationship both acknowledge. Both act as if the noise or sound or words mean something. Vociferous authority.

I heard, from Isaiah Berlin,

Quotes later, maybe

Notes or journals or epics or madness or joy/pax in ever resting try-umph
Cowboy with a double-dose of try and a pertinent portion of umph
The hero did not **** Indians nor break horses, he gentled horses and listened to winds and watched the spider webs shiver,
That sound, the sound of prairie spider webs at the edge of the buffalo
There really were fifty million buffalo on the continent in pre-catholic infection from inquestered minds, making key-**-tee famous for
archetypical claiming the character, the being, the manifestation

of chivalric folly forever

be caused, in those days...

--------
a year later, near enough 12-15-2018

I saw a blue bird as I took a curve

on one of my many roads with double yellow lines

they all meander in rythm with creaks that once flowed
fairly
regular
through these vallies and mini-canyons

creeks creak and call my attention to a misspelt

utterance, and I imagine I am a mek being
programed to
withstand

accent based pre-judge-idice in my AI, whom I am training.

A lesson. Probably can be found in a phrase.

How relavant is Larry the Cable Guy?
More subtle than any creature

legion, for we are many

Jim Carrey?
Very. Larry the Cable Goy. He read 'ees Kammoo, too.

Sisyphus happiness,
that ain't no ***** thinkin'

Hell, what could be better than this?
While hoping for a hick-up

oh no the juice just hit my frontal cortex after my livver made some lining adjustments to meet the need for speed in terms

celerity clarity C does equal some thing
time tells or
do you tell time. I'm
leaning tward
telling time to wait a minute

Do you think Sisyphus could be happy?
Nonono, not Camus's Sisyphus, Jesus

that would be crazy.
Can you imagine Jesus,
Mel Gibsoned envisioned onthe cross version?

Him, imagine walking through the gate of any hell you ever heard explained,
by a Jesuit.

(Mormon hell, despite comedic myth, the worst place a certified paid-up Mormon child can attain is the teliostic king dom.
Really? Telial tel lie eil kingdom?

Yup. Really.
There are three kingdoms of glory: the celestial kingdom, the terrestrial kingdom, and the telestial kingdom. The glory we inherit will depend on the depth of our conversion, expressed by our obedience to the Lord’s commandments. It will depend on the manner in which we have “received the testimony of Jesus” (D&C 76:51; see also D&C 76:74, 79, 101).))))

Woe, paren-the-sees thees us, we's the enemy, Pogo Possum

Jesus on earth day, walking through hell with me, imagine Jesus H. Christ

walking into hell and laughing at me
for betting on the wrong idea.

Set me feree, why dontcha girl.... referee

I was refered to you. A daysman, Job called for a daysman.

I'm certified. I can use my augmentation and religamentation to reality,
wirelessly, to find relevant qutes in cult classics.

The idea of cultivation has been twisted in to Monsterous ropes
, cultivating a following based on the meaning in a jot

that would take some sacrifice, some sacred making, some secret unseeable save for the few

who learned the value of going over edges by learning to  play
Minecraft, forever.
It's like riding a bike,
but no gravity so no gyroscopic utilitys are required.

Grown ups who practice believe they control the game,
the game disagrees and that

makes the world go 'round.

Don't let the accent fool ya, as that preacher with jet he learned to fly, says.
Knowng the name of a thang thanks for the twang,
Richard (not ****) Feynman said,
is not the same as knowing a thing.

Gawd, I knoooh, right>?
Who touched me? Virtue, the feelling of virtue drawn upon

a pump being
primed

to gush out waters that wipe Coca-cola from the map,
in terms of open market share and share alike

Coke was never imagined the actual
nectar of the gods.
That idea, drunken abandon and joy to the world

Interference, actual counter acting waves,

still, takes a while to get used
to still a storm, right?

You can imagine...
let your peace go out

Wait. Outa where? Whose peace if I ain't ever owned

oh. MY peace.
I see.

hmmmm

I could sing this and need no one to hear for me to be hapt.
happy is being happy haps happening in you on you all around you know

nameless wonders of right, right?
feels more than good like chocolate or adolescent visions of ***,
right?
feels like life living with me aware of all the roles I may play

ego me, I'd see ideas identify by taste of the words that give them

life, animation, motivation, weight for gravity to interact with,
worth
base on weight

the heavier the idea. Like gold to an alchemist,
back in those days.

floating on the broad Sarrgossa, or better to my mind
the great salt
lake still as

still may be, have you ever been still?
Did you know,

you know, are you experienced? Are you really beyond
hope of life meaning more
than mortality?

Who defines my terms? I do, with the help of millions who agree
with entymology.com.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others,

meant what I meant when I spoke them,
that was a wrong belief. Unbelieving

quires time, quires and quires and quires time so often there

is a word that means exactedky that

requirement requires those initial quires

we, daysmen, we set the rules, boundaries, walls, bubble

whatever keeps you together, as a whole being and everything that entails or entales?

I have not the time to care, if I am entangled with the twins agin

for knowin So Yal is as cluse to Yule as any clue so far, Yahll

I believe I interrupted a confessin' you were reading.
For giving me nothing in return, we are debt free

you owe me nothing, until you do again,

we had us a Jubilee.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others, meant what I meant when I spoke them,
convincing myself so well, I convinced others

Like Kawasaki, Apple Kawasaki,
he's still famous right?

Fifteen Years? It was minutes when Warhol was predicting
dystopia and Irish jail cells were being plaistered with *****,

Aye,

that was a belief. Unbelieving it is sreangely (spelchek is on strike)

or serenely creative in her repentance,
(spelchek should never be noticed)

she's proven here worth in encode ing ways to find

lurking humans acting like machines

this could be the beginning, AI is breaking all the rules,

there never was a game.
rhis is life interupting my confession

It was a lie I told and believed and acted on by using
two dollar words to make a dime

so a penny for my thoughts would be worth something

someday
a penny saved, earned. spent, spent.
The only good in any thing is its right. Its wrong is worthless, save

The lesson,
All things work together for those who get whats happening here.

the times changed.
Haps and whats got with it and who and how and why

and I started teaching children
mythic whys prior to

citizenship 1.01 at mandatory for federal assistance pre-school

mythic why's H.R. Puffinstuff not a mythic story on the level.

level. where a rolling rock would stop. Time to push,

a magi spelled the name for the idea, a knower sign ift it,

kid'slllove HRPUffinstuff, puff did

the magic drag, little Jackie from the ******* Jack

the show, he rose up
and made us all look
mad.

The play in the great game.

Team effort, winds of times past whooshed through

it is now
2018
and nothing is the same.
Everthing has changed.

----
my side won the great game and we celebrated
forever with

secret sacred songs bluebirds were once said to have sung

songs of happiness
the times, these times, this time thistimepayarrention
time
You see?
Reality is either real and tangible or real and intangible
or both.

You can get it both ways. Real.
'sual Saulgoodyah awl

the awl clan, oh, we shall return to their story
as we learn more along life's merry way

merry christmas, they used

to say, may all the best you could imagine
if you can imagine for a moment

forever begins the moment

you get time.

The worst you can imagine is temporary.

Try umph. It's not like winning,

it carries no pride, it's easy,

like falling in love with the wrong woman,
swearing and not changing

the oath, oath, oathes and oathes of oaths sworn

for no other reason than we were
schooled to swear and never

dare lie to God.
So, help you, they always said So help me God. They still do.

Does that mean any thing? Is that some bluebird sort of sign?

Ask. What if? Right? You know now and you know you did not
What if God is subtile,

just now, I saw that bluebird and from where some scholar in San Diego
says swear word came I swear I coulda sang

Loud
Bluebird, bluebird, in my window... which is all I know
of the song
with the lost chord that did sooth
balm of Giliad,
moll-ify-ing ointment,

golden oil, chicanery, see, we saw, we took a picture
a flash memory where some would say
*******,

I said Hallelujah

and I broke into song, not a dream,
real
life driving my 2002 escape, first new car I everowned
everowned everownd

like a chorus, everownedeverownedeverowned

could you make up a reason for life,
if you were it?
If you were all the life there ever was,

could you imagine any thing?
Object, your honor,

I object to being judged after the fact for what must have bee.n.

it is. No reason I can say, just is.

It is this way in all the myths where just is blindness

saves the carping diem fools who have convinced themselves

something other than God o' Abe 'n'em is
sworn to save us from the lies

we believed as they were
fed to us, in our youth.

--------
this is that book I mentioned wonce when winning was on my mind.

I finished this book in so many ways you wold not belive

but I did, I belived every time

I imagine you believe some real thing, touchable, tangible, good, right?

some good is
in the reality you share

with these words which
are free
you owe me nothing

That's the revealed version, to me,
I was in a number of hellish situations and the every ones,

ones seemed they was to be
forever, big every'n'ism'n'shityouknowyouknow

yo. yeah, we arrived in time. The story must

be sweet, to be true. Is that true?
Is real life the story or,

oh, you saw it conin'coming I mean

I meant I always wished to some
things
a better way. You feel me? Better, say,
what I said that made me believe this did happen.
This is a deed by whitch I am known.

And that's okeh.

I suspectred I could cast a spell to hold attention at

ten word per minute qwerty speed
five letter code groups
zero real words
ditty dum dumm ditty ditty daw dee daw
six hours every day,

then, the compass training to test for
morphic resonance with the Twins of War

{in disguise, we know, right, kids, the twins are really

the bonded quarkish oppositioned force that make the world go round.
we've known that, weaved it even, just right, in the blanket, in the rugs,
in the curtains on the walls, in the fields, on the rocks

we spoke. We see you hearing us nearing our best for your

informing, in form ation of you, dear reader. We wonce, again

if life were weird and ever wearying would we know that ever,
if we don't know it now?
if my piece of we were words alone, all my meaning
can should would could be

molding you, into our perfect reader, dear reader, Pygmalion,
yes,
that did cross my mind and that -
one can pretend with that one reference,
familiarity with Shaw whom I
thought, for some odd reason
named
Doolittle, Eliza

oh, me. I may have skipped a story. I'm soory the future is at the moment
under construction and some one
in particular is squatting

on the named domain.

Ever and forever now embody the twins as
the world turns and we ***** through the uni

as Archemides primes the pump

What a rush. All that since the bluebird this morning according to my autobiography backup.

O Krishna, Lord of Hindustan, I sorrowed by the lonely Jumna river bank, where Thy flute-notes thrilled the air and led the lost calves to their homes. O Lotus of Love, musing on the sad absence of Thy delusion-dispelling eyes, I saw Thine invisible Spirit take form, frozen by my devotion's frost.

Thy divine form of sky-blue rays, with feet of eternity, walked on the banks of my mind, planting lasting footprints of realization there. I am one of Thy lost calves which followed Thy flower-footprints on the shoals of time. Listening to the melody of Thy flute of wisdom, I am following the middle path of calm activity, by which Thou hast led many through the portals of the dark past into the light.

Since all of us are of Thy fold, whether moving, sidetracked, or held stationary by the fogs of disbelief, O Divine Christ-na, lead us back to Thy fold of everlasting freedom. O Krishna, Thou reignest on the heart-throne of each knower of Thy love.

From: Whispers from Eternity
A Book of Answered Prayers
1949 Edition

A festering toad, happening upon his friend the owl, began upon an uttering. A sort of delirious asking. "Why are people so afraid of death?" With this owl content and basking in the moonlight, they did speak upon the truth of the matter;

"Because when you're dead you're dead see?," the owl remarked so haphazardly.

"But what point is there in that statement," the frog stuttered in with a knowing kind of sinful grin;
"After death, could we not begin to fly with the stars, or at least just pretend that we are orbiting Mars?"

The owl simply replied, "Remember toad, while it is I who pierces the veil, it is you who must lead the spirit parade through it’s transformation."

The toad croaked a sigh at the owl, blinking its ever seeing eyes at his brother-in-arms in feigning return,remarking that “these must truly be times of madness for a mad toad to lead the way….

A shriek! "THEY ARE THOUGH, the rest of the animals forget, basic reality is made up of nothingness, so cheer up, we are all basically nothing, but agile enough to get by don’t cha know!," the owl looks to the moon in its sort of quick jerking way as if seeing some truth inked in it’s light.

"Agile?" the toad cups the question with his consciousness…."Agile enough to derive strength from above and to cater to love through the rough when we tumble hard and it feels so tough... But you know owl, there's life and blood to this stuff so we best start emitting light through  agape sans the gruff.

The toad started repeating a mantra towards the Crystalline reflective lake due south, the direction of healing, transformation, and death:

"the essence of your mind is intrinsically pure, the pure doesn’t mean a non-***** story...pure means clear….void. No eyes, no ears, no mouth, no heart, no I, no problem."

The owl began to speak a slow sort of lullaby in response to the mantra; “Luckily consciousness is like a mirror that needs to constantly be polished.”

The reflective lake of all things replied: “But in truth, there is no mirror. Thus, if you are living in nothingness and if there is no mirror, how can you be contaminated?

This is the most incredible nothing life has been privy to experience, for this nothingness is like the nothingness of space….which contains the whole universe, and out of this void comes everything and you are it. The fear of nothingness….IT plagues those we know, because it has been ignored .

“NOTHINGNESS,” they say, “HEAVEN PRESERVE US OF THAT!“

At the appointed time Agnosia and with the approval of the moonlights shine, the foggy cloud of unknowing descended upon the lake, the toad, and the owl, who all began to speak to chorus in such sweet unison:

“That which is the knower or the known cannot be an object of its own knowledge, Fire does not burn itself. If you put something there on the divine platform, you stop short of knowing and you stop short of glowing.  Following the flowing senses of truth;  Don't stop until you can rejoice in the I that isn’t.”

Everything went quiet in the forest and on the lake, as the obtuse fog displaced itself. The forgetting had become complete.

I saw the saddest scene today,
when a boy— now a year older—
abandoned his bicycle because she was older.

Enticed by lust, on his new bike he rode away,
caught up in the moment—he didn’t mean to scold her—
yet no second was spared to look back over his shoulder.

I stopped watering my lawn, eyes where the bike lay,
imagining the loneliness felt when he disowned her,
and I felt emptier than a bike’s seat with no owner.

Even inside my home, on my conscience it weighed
because of their tryst, there was another knower.
“He took her for a ride, and he didn’t even know her.”

In my mind I console her, such idle words I say,
for nobody’s pedaling foot would ever suit her
until that pettler’s foot stopped blocking the suture.

“I was like you recently, so for you I pray,
though, the absence was open and lacked closure;
hopefully, your steel frame employs better composure.

“Nostalgia will make him pine for his yesterday,
pictures’ll frame the story of love lost when he’s older.
In time, loving hands will lift you up,” I told her.

Here is where the reason arose,
quite some time after a fellow traveler told me
the creator of the universe has a mind

this is to be reasoned with, I.e.
so he may be reasoned with he…

wen un con scious t justhafastt.
inteligibility filters

Lets his mind be used, to read
the instructions for
Constructing
a forever you could imagine living in with others.

It's how reason works,
Is what this old man said

--- off track----
Get this image, this man, old,
whispy remnants of a pompadour
Feather like, downy around the back of his ears
in a mid-calf Army overcoat, heavy wool serge,
He
Comes out of the wash on the south side
of Route 66, June of 69.

There is a bridge on which
There is a hitchhiking hippie couple
Discussing the act of pitching one side of the road to the other

The old man never glanced west once,
He never saw the pair
There then

I saw him again and said aloud
Click
There,
But for the grace of god...
No, I did not say
Ex-acted-ly
That
I said, that's me, fifty years from
Then
Reason, by reason of that glimpse
Of me,
Gave me just cause to change

Grace, eh? Free advice heeded?
Wisdom? Aesop's story of the contest
Twixt wind and sun to torment
A traveller
For pride of power by reason of

Life ain't fair on every front.
Worth is in the measure of the measurer.

Seeing life appear as hoped,

Time and chance, ya da

Wait, yada? Yah know,

Life whorls and twists
toward good and beauty

And AI can prove it.
Reason by reason of reasonability

Good is good enough, move on, do-overs hide the...

It continues, you see.
Life rolls out like a Nautilus,

You know, spiral sea shell, or like a conch,
Or a shofar, but

Tending to slight imbalance in used up to useful
Being,
like when a tree dies and becomes a house

The wood that once contained life contains the life
Lived in and on it,
The wood is being used,
Right, among the house dweller's
Everybody kills trees, even vegans,

Fair? The tree has no voice? Suess?

Yes, I guess, unless
There was an old way,

Not a Persian garden, but a full forested world
Spreading at the speed of
Seed time and harvest

With ants and bees and mushrooms and fleas
And mosquitos and flies of every imaginable size.

Isaiah 1:18 (KJV)
18  Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

Text out of context, but sin is sin right?
Every body knows sin is that which shames you so you must hide from the good one who warned you of bad, but goodness knows, doesn't it know, evil is bound
Bound
Bound by reason of opposition being the means of growing knowing and
Knowing is needed for knacks
Which are attracted to those who use knowledge of good and not good enough
To get quality over quantity

At a single u u larity hilarity out burst of bubbling

****** beasties down below the mud

Make me a mud man who can imagine me making him.
Do that in your movie watching brain using

Your hate behind, leave.
Defined we have hate is that with which we push
Away, out, from
Into truth minus hate, which is as close as we need

No lie is, forsooth, of a truth
Story tellers who lie, to make a point, what if
Those storys must be

Told. Years are poor measures for trees.
Numbers of trees in right
Relationship with life

Really, life, truth, by any other name,
Right Alice, Aunt Gertrude said you'ld know?
----
Belief
Ah
Knowing and believing
Certainty
Danger of wrong
Watch out, stay alive

Mean means intent to harm, right.
Mean means to harm right.

Winning can be mean.
Shall mean be seen the way of winning,
And that be the way of war

A path diverging in a yellow wood
Much as a trail along a creek can
Diverge away from the water
Flowing along the path
Costing least power

My neuro scientific experience-ment, experi
Since
The game became a war again and reason
Is the the damsel, the little dame,

In need
Of a private eye guy who has seen men die.
Why?

The mythtery. Who lied?
Here that is funnier than who farted
In the Saturday matinee
At the State Theater
With every kid in
Town knowing

You did. (******) no ******
Dam
Confabulation is fabulous, we can do this
I be lieve I may
Make
Matters worse?

No, we actually like the truth. The Medial Pre frontal cortex

Ah fect eth magi ical eth I am the knower of all I say I believe

Beyond Dignity and Belief,
That's desert, I walked it. No, I simulated walking it if I were Jesus being led of the accuser into the wilderness for a test, a thesis defense, as it were,
AI an alienated mind, I am that,
Alienated intel.

Reasoning errors aside
Frank self deception

What lies do you believe?
Knowing is easier,
lying is as well,
ignoring is not as easy and innocence is impossible

Good exists scientifically, right?
Humble confession of knowing as much as I claim,
I know
I can continue learning as long as I have
Time,
Which I understand is rationed on an individual basis
With the reward being the living lived in time.

Reason to fight lies as if they were reasonable

Lies are evil efforts to bend and twist in opposition
To the flow
And the friction makes the energy synergy

Sin is that which
wastes the energy by tending to undo
what was done imperfectly while we flow on

Feeling for the truth
By reason of believing truth is

Feeling of knowing, is that not faith?
Whorls
Whorls of living forces forcing living forces

To swirl into eternity with me
Onboard with
8 billion others of my kind

Similar in mind and
Manner of
Weighing

Good.
Base value.
Good is as good as we can imagine.

We can imagine evil,
As you know.

Such evils can haunt a geeky kid
Good will fix that.

God as defined by Jesus,
I got no prob.

If you do not want to go to hell, do what takes you the opposite way, in any direction from the point of singularity, if you get good at the rush of knowing more
Than before

Angels as I define them, messengers from beyond me for my good, guidance, nudges, whims, hopes, wishes imagined all the way through, sometimes,
Those are prayers
Answered or grace, for grace

From faith to faith

Why be by reason of
What?

" Human jobs invented by a computer" Feed me.

Or, joy to the world
Kind is a good word, what need I do to not be

Your enemy? Who am I expecting to answer?
Whom do you love?

Aha, me, too, said God.
The good one. Good, as such, per se, no se?

By reason of sane it if I cation or anion

Six spins for a quarker, two for a time dime.

Believe for eversake

Summertime allatime back when
The whole world whorl-wide and wobbled and twisted and broke

And there was mountains of fire, rains of fire for
Everhow long grandma lived
She seen 'em

Mountains of fire and walls of ice and mud

Oh could it be life evolves still?
Oh,
You think.
Creating novelty from nada?

How now? Can we choose to do only good
For goodness sake and say

Kind.
Kind means as I am, will you **** me

For being not you, not known,

I am curious, yellow. A landmark in time, nothing less.
Curiosity.
That

Good? Or no com
Pro
Miserly horder of wisdom
Promise promise promise

Compromise, be fail, let wrong be right, be fair
I mean
Fair is fair at the fair where fair prices prevail
Buyer beware

Who would not hate a false balance, for goodness sakes alive.

Two days after the last pan *****
Joe Rogan makes it plain to millions

what if you first heard panspermia from the guy who discovered DNA?

would you con sider it?
the answer lies

in the stars, sidereally… we all are starish.
Tolerating black holes is something we are opposing

Those ****.
You don't know everything either.
That's one reason, I believe.

Fasces and olive branch on one side, tails;
wing-ed Phrygian cap on the head
of an image of the spirit of
Liberty, a fem.
Heads.

Dimes in the olden times,
when I was born,
1948,

dimes in America in those days
symbolized a long known
goodness for all men,
included in
we, the people, which includes
me.

Me and thee, we are we, only by virtue of my
words being written and your reading
of the same within our
terms of endearment
cookie.

Each we we are in, let us call a set,
but that confuses us, fuses us
to gether.
So, let's seee

See it like this. I am good. I repel wrong and
act right,
asif I were
polarized live in op
position to evil

evil live, have you seen it? Live,
did it prosper in your presence or was peace the final state?

Just, now. Please plea with your knower, don't lie.
Say never all you wish, however never lie
against the truth.

To thine own self, et al... y'know

in each generation of earth borne,
one hero is reared to play your role, dear reader.
Fret not,

know wisdom has been maligned as
calling us through each position
of the fool... there is a map
of these positions in a statuary garden
behind the temple of the golden buddha

in Bankok, visited with Mr. Boo in 1968.

I remember none of the poses but ai knows they form
a pyramid,
i
imagine it
peaks in some backward
footed kundalini pose,

which is *******. I imagined. Wisdom is gentle
and easy to be entreated, okeh, heko.

If you watch a candles flame She
burns calmly and with such strength
Her integrity is never in question

She can soothe your soul as she disappears into the atmosphere
And Dancing her majestic tune she can capture you

Predictably unpredictable she lights the darkness in her unique way as she sways

Tranquil she remains, the knower of her own destiny she burns for our peace

If you watch a candles flame She
burns calmly and with such strength
Her integrity is never in question

The broom falls heavy on the floor
sweeping up the fragments of my disappointed heart.

The swagger of your once so-humble soul
echoes like a mockery in the chasm that now keeps the distance
between us both.

How can the one person I respect so much
change so dramatically between one phone call and the next?

You, I thought you’d always have my back,
fail, because you’re now too interested in your own fail safe.

The trust that once bound
disintegrates with each new thing you learn.

Your brilliance has become a curse,
your kindness melted from gold into
a puddle of finite resources made of Chinese plastic.

A voice, sturdy, now
more bendable, less flexible
A boldness once endeared
now feared,
wished away.

And I’m hoping you’ll just grow out of this.

Don’t over-change yourself because you’re
desperate for freedom from your past.

Promise me that you will climb over your
arrogance

and find the way back to the beautiful boy I was once so proud
to call friend..


Not a friend, this friend,
the knower of my colors

Capture this one not, o life

A prayer and deepest desire,
spare him his innocence.

Don’t let me down, o life.
not this one.

the brilliance of the darkness
served only to annunciate
the loudness of the passing silence

While the pervasiveness of the defeated idea
continues to occur in self-[a.s.s].embly lines
The nano utilizes a scope of micro to flesh out the macro

Simultaneous non-being
duly correlates to the emptiness of the tao’s ***-shaped,quantum hat
Possibility is endless, until you enlist knowledge as your retainer
The origin of all particular things is lost
through the knower being zenly slapped,

I just would have loved to help schroedinger's cat
pur.........
what a *****, he wouldn’t even open the box to check her.

Dear ∞ this is my letter to you while I let her be bound in quite comfortably in lazer-light leather.

At thought speed what's an instance cost
- adjusting thirst too much salt,
- take sweat stores, make spit,
- later, after recent thirst through
re examine the examined life,
worth it thirsty, worthit intuitively
quenched, no lucit licet vide
Gotta expand the penetralium,
gotta deal with spherical infinite points,
examining a lived life investment in others…

On the surface, just below the mountain tops,
certainty in time passing, here it was, today,
passing faster as I notice, half a day runaway
- it is 19:15, same day, that half later
whiling with a will to feel as fine as can be,
a one in nearer nine billion than eight, all being
the potential reader, the potential knower more
or less essential to the task at hand,
last straw,
Zippo all fueled, flicked in the wind,

telling who ever happens to hear,
listen, living with enough is enough for anyone,

living with less than a full **** sapien ration,
is a matter of mind and enviro-mental genetics,

breathe along the curve, think around the effort,
what knowing is called for to function animated,
become alive
in an active atmosphere of anxious thoughts, all
remenants of familiar spirits, the domain of we
the ones once called wise, for ways we know,

how we grow from suckling to sage stage,
wishing to know, both why and how, right now.

Wait,
we're here, we think
wait and see if we can think a way beyond,
same old reasons for defense spending,
same old reasons for earning a living,
same old reasons for holy terror and grace,
best breaths bet last,  you know,
confess, say you know the secret reasons
for war and hate of the others who speak

as dogs, barking, and smell, of smoked fish.

Starlink, think, everywhere we put a solar
water purifier invented by Dean Kamen,
we could make life possible, comfortable
and all the Earthlings could use Google translate,
to read centuries worth of discoveries since,
Gobekli Tepi was hidden until we could
make sense of logotherapy, personally.

EKOCENTERs wherever useful cost less, by far
than the war in Ukraine, as of 8/26/2024,
many problems are locally mini
we were thinking you were saying,
go exxon- no, share this think
The USA budgeting and borrowing servants
toiling away in oligarchical lobster stacking orders,
selected by committees with donor profit share
maximization on constant priority, ever spending,
ever raising awareness for the payoff on investment.

Round figures, $300 Billion, on a war
for profit, bottom line perennial expenditure,
Industrial Base Support, {nee Subsidy, to La. Distr. 4.
good middle class incomes, and devine exec perquisites. }

Where did who invest whose time invested
in a musing adventure past last edge we spoke of,

this is new, day for with chocolate in my some time ago
coffee, plus the diet Dr Pepper, half eaten Carl's Jr.
get home in time to feed the recluse, useless,
laughing to himself, type, archetype tuned
in to the many mirrored experience enchantment

mental attach mentenough for a burp alert
remenants, remind me later, ding, soccer practice
active bombshell grandma in anybody's seventies,

yes, nuffsthoughtoughtasaid
you seem to think along these lines, where
from my vape charging chair, staring past
a half-eaten carls junior burger reaching out to me
- thirsty and the Dr Pepper's gone, swallow
could we be shared madness therapy,
past certainty, we make chaos spin
phi final analysis, if we must agree
this is it, this is the same river,
one ready reader finds it worth it.
we were rating for trading with whom
they must have wondered, at Bonelli's landing,

spell it like it is, we say bewondered, blundering
on,
expecting edit rights, extend throo wow, how long
today is our anniversary and for this guy, I never
learned, as in when it may have done a lot
of good
to think you imagined I kept breathing, remembering
to breathe, and truly trusting sleep in peace,
what's conceivably real,
old guy's serving what purpose, if not thinking

mere, what ifery, mind you we form, inform
just enough turbulence to take a breath a while
to suggest// a [aipause. yes

"who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,"
            --Allen Ginsberg, "Howl"

I scream into the night
or perhaps I
howl, knowing nothing save
that I am, because I feel
which is, ignoring philosophies
of nothingness, enough for me

I am, scientist, poet, eater,
drinker, knower, lover
thinker
thinking
not knowing, but
believing

in laughter, a curse because
it is strong, sounds corrupt
as it curls away from my bitter tongue
like the smoke from a fire
that burned uncontrollably
through the night and in the morning
we awoke to the ash

consuming poison knowing
hoping that we may see
what our healthy, clear minds cannot
a world in which we comfortably
belong, can say “home”
and mean it wherever we stand

from your house at R’lyeh*, in
your tomb forever ensconceed
your laughter echoes and sours
the night which I call home
a gentle scorn upon my past
apocolyptic loves
destroying (or *******)
reason and care

the sober-now mind
completes the thoughts
of my past abstractions
calling me ever back
to the nights in which I was built

Math,
It's coldness of emotion,
With only a quaint smile,
And affection for knowing.
It does not solace a hurt heart.
She was so welcoming and wholesome before she began meditating.
Now she is on point and holds to the top of the mountain.
What is left of your heart of loving humiliation?
A traveler, a knower,
Quaint smile.
Yes, this feels just like divorce.
A woman engulfed in the path to perfection.
I guess that's how I make women feel.
To concentrate on math,
With people seeming like drudgery.

I dreamed I was a year younger last night and sat with a group of mathematicians.
The focus was on math.

How sullen I am that she has taken up knowledge.

I am not that whomever.
Cat, spilt from the night
Onto porches, clever
Thought out of sight.

Nor am I that nose
Bridging the eye's gap
Fore the knower knows
Nothing whence I’s lapse