1
five moons for earth
sometimes I wish
dear moon
sometimes I wish
the earth had five moons
and all so positioned
we can see
one every night and then in twos and in threes
never four (just so for mystery’s sake)
and then all five
all in perfect alignment once a year
just three nights so
and then we’ll all here on earth
go ga ga ga
or moo moo moo looooney
those nights and go crazy
and climb up trees and enact our ape ancestry …

and don’t you be jealous
I asked for four others;
I just want more of you –
just never seem to get enough of you


2
I see you moon
I see you moon
this cool autumn morning
you sing over the river and trees
and you are supported
by your belly-dance troupe of stars




3
ah poor moon
ah poor moon
you're just hanging around
and through no fault of your own
you attract all these weirdos
these lunatics
and the vampires and the blood-******* bats
and the sleep-walkers and murderers
and the flesh-eaters
(the moon made me do it!)
and the lunatics
and the werewolves
and even stock-pickers
and wild women who want to **** Orpheus

O poor moon
you're just about your own radiant business
and all these freaks put it at your doorstep


4
dear moon, you will understand
darling moon
dear moon
do not be offended
we have stripped you
down to rock and a plain face
and we show pictures of you
in black, gray and white;
and though a writer of verse,
in this verse,
I strip you of your romance and aura;
be not angry
for after all,
you will understand,
we are children who come after
Galileo
and Neil Armstrong



5
Li Po, the moon and me
You know
lovely moon
Li Po
was drunk
and he paddled out to you
seeing your reflection
and he jumped in to the lake
embracing you in the waters
and so he drowned;
but,
you know
loving moon,
I will not come to you thus;
instead you know my time
and you will drown
in the lake shadows of my quiet


6
in praise of the moon
I will not sing you a song of praise
O gentle moon
there are too many modern people around
too many enlightened minds tonight
they reckon they don't need your light;
there are too many elect
and too many going to Heaven
and if I sang in praise of you
they will throw their Blessed Books at me
and they will say
'You moon-worshiper, you go to hell!'
(they fancy words like idolator)

O so most divine moon
O godly moon
O most sacred moon
I shall not sing in praise of you;
there are too many bloodthirsty wolves around


7
was it you, mooon?
cold moon
I am sad;
was it you,
distant moon,
who made me so
tonight?


8
you are there moon
you are there moon;
I thought you were not
and I went to sleep
and I sighed: "She will not come, not tonight;
she has some other lover";
and I went to sleep
and then much later now I wake up
and you've come, out there
and your light full within my room
and your fingers on every cell of my being



9
you witness my dying
you witness my dying
as you see my life, my hopes and desires
and all my embarrassments
and my achievements too,
dear moon;
O quiet presence,
O radiant presence all one's life;
and what do you look at these days
in my life
darling moon
what do you see?
you who have seen the child grow old
and you hang out beaming by the window
patiently
to see one more death
to add to the countless you witness
since the day you came

10
M for Man, Money and Moon
M for moon
M for Man
M for Money;
and at last Man has seen the moonlight
and now they know
Man can make Money out of the Moon

11
Moon, I hear you are moving away
Moon, I hear you are moving away
Why moon, are you moving away?
Don’t you like your neighbor
earth so blue and green
and earthlings so adorable?
Did you not come so near
to get to know your neighbor well?
why then are you moving, moon?
maybe you’ve come to know us well
I hear you’re moving slowly,
so slowly your neighbor doesn’t notice;
how considerate of you
Anyway, I’ll be gone before you

cold moon
I am sad;
was it you,
distant moon,
who made me so
tonight?

What is it like
The moonlight on her skin
Surely it must dance
Some spectral movement
A longing that only
The forest would know
Deep secrets whispered
Beneath its bows
Ancient recollections of
Sweet footfalls amid the duff and
Arcane choired reverances
Echoing a covens embrace around
Samhain fires
Charming the spirits arise and
Make light the growing darkness
But time is cruel and
She alone now stands
Testament to the cycle
******* in the dew
Singing the old songs
In the old ways
Enticing that old wood wake and
Take heed the coming dawn

My head spins, twirling in colors of essential essanance
the barrries fall onto
floors non existant ground
and simple pleasures
of conversational munch

are triply seductive

the nature that has been robbed will be returned
the love that has been lost will be found
the trees that are cut will grow

and the souls that are condemened will be freed

but it must freeze

what lies at the core of fools
tell me ,
if you could be so kind?

kindred spirits of the philosophical type
who have seen the darkness and fight the flowers fall ,

the tree of universes shakes
and breathes a sigh

all the wind orginated from this spot
eminating out of the simple
simple stop  ,

cat calls - forest walls

honest bums
sit
no place like home they say
i say no place called home

no place other than home
as it walks with me
side by side
unto the power places
chakras glow and merger
connotations
******

but the defenition is flexiable

determine the point ,
touch the joints
heat the fall
and ***** it all

you only have this time around its all we've ever had.

who is it
that defines the love in our lives
but parent hood figures made out of wood frozn in time and we watch at the spirals unwind
and the lemons
are zingy and the mint is fresh
and i sleep on a bears bed
baby bear , mother too - wolves out alone standiing o howl at the mooon
and awoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
we've come so far
on the riptide of loves handslide
handshake
discovering for oursleves what we deem humanities race
and what we deem fools and tounges
and what we deem to be the runner out run
who comes first in a race
who comes fist before the fired gun
who sits and the hollow has come.

Music swelling
I can't help but dwelling
On your eyes so bright
Taking me to many heights
Pulling you in
Wondering where I've been
You make me smile
This will last me for awhile
Say goodnight
And hold me tight
I'll see you soon
Hopefully dancing under the mooon

all the streets in girl things comely
arms a bit are haired in

               (tan and tan)


the golden crush of whose mute fingers
make blithe the spring
and against
find the night homely

piercingly the mooon against
into slivers thousand make
their drooping slender of cotton haste
as cherry petals,

                             a branch from shake


in the wind to uncurlsome
neatly wan ankles
and fists o' skin girlsome

crease and crease alike(andunlike)

gossamer



                          faintly





                                                          of




pinkest aching to part


To enter loving


To exit heart

deepening like the darkness of the mooon
your handsome beauty fascinates & enthralls me
pure alabaster skin cloaks your heavenly body
eyes as rich as beautiful crimson jewels
hair as lustrious & entrancing as the ebony shade of charcoal
your soul dances in the corridors of time
your heart stone cold but inside, hurting and softened by the grace of humanity

The taste of the morning
The scent of the rain
The sun sits behind the Mooon as the clouds come out to play.
The wind on the corner the leaves stare and gaze.
My  mind wonders at night to a dungeon that's full of pleasures and pain.
Knock on the door again.
I'm ready to leave this place

Late night poem in bed
For the late-night dreamers and criers.
I know
This will probably get lost,
Lost in translation or tangled up in your thoughts,
But I hope when you find it,
It also finds you back.

This is my virtual hug but also a reminder
To allow yourself to dream,
Allow your mind to wander.
That’s what keeps your spark lit;
And be your guide forever,

Through the ups and the downs,
Wherever life takes you
Don’t you ever forget, that Gods always with you.


Truly,
With every word written,
Big or small,
I hope it fuels your imagination
And ignites your soul.
I know it feel heavy
Carrying the weight of the world
It can get so lonely
But know you’re not alone

So dare to dream, gentle soul
Hold on to them real tight
Let the midnight mooon reaffirm your existence,
And lift you toward the light,
Even for a moment,
Or only just for the night,
Until you finally break free, and everything feels Alright. ✨

next i will ask AI to clarify for me
the special status of the two Adams
in the Hebrew alphabet:
the א (aleph)       and the   ע (ayin):

i need to ask a robot to bypass
the flesh Vatican and circumcised
Rabbi gatekeepers so...
i will ask the following question(s)

given the prefix suffix and noun
construct of the alphabet and having
nouns for letters:
like ALPHA conjures up so much strife
in the male domain as does BETA
and SIGMA
and
i'm the first, to suggest the OmEGA male?
well: if we're playing with letters
like we might play with ****
and spaghetti... why not?
it's not like there's some coherency for
where the vowels were dropped in
the cascade
of anti-syllables...
distinct from Japanese where
so weird magical N
is of equal isolated status to a vowel
ka ka ta me: no: can't work out: tamed...
since... well...

   but i need to ask a robot concerning
Allah
the prized eyes of the bull, and the horns...
like you would logically say:
easily done:
a-leph
     so A is used from the word
and A-yin: also, A... is used...
mention the hyphenation because i'm
******* done with explaining myself:
as with i-ota
t-au
       s-igma etc etc ******* endless etc et ceteras...
but i need to know
regardless of well: there's the LL
comfy... but we need to adjust that
to create a rectangle in mirror of L: /Γ/
but that's hardly a mirror...
    the mirror is also Matthias: the scribbler:
and he: who i isn't: say:
hmm... gnome grimace...
           L((\Lambda ))Γ
or LΛ)Γ
    see... because unlike in mathematics where
the sigma is prominent
for figuring out squiggly and prosthetic
ghost limb lines:
i concern myself with conjuring the first
abstract "equation" whereby
Λ replaces Σ
                 but i'm going to recline
drink some poison and oh jeez:
no no noticed: i was drinking absinthe before
absinthe disappeared from the supermarket shelves
and "they" later subscribed to the trend
but oh jeez once again: Jon Fosse's i think i think
i think to punctuated punch...
you know they even covered it in the newspapers
and oh so hollow this humanism
wrapped in toilet paper is
i mean:
you are supposed to set the sugar cube alight
once you
pour the absinthe over it...
proper absinthe that's 70+% is where sugar
soaks up the glycerin and hey presto!
fireworks! ******* green fairies
whispering... ugh: pornographic movie
scripts with women that would
be much happier as waitresses in some mid-west town
or a lesser *******: but you get the idea...
yes: the proper absinthe is supposed
to turn milky and murky when you add water to it
but you need the absinthe to be proper to begin
with so that you can set the sugar cube alight...
since my absinthe drinking days
i have not seen a single bottle of absinthe
where i used to find it...
it's like they plucked out my eyes:
i do have green envy irises... herald the regardless!

but before i ask the A question to AI ingestion
i will have to ask the Wittgenstein model
of abstracting language
comparing it to the Chomsky model
with only two "true" sentences of the ultimate guise
of "thought"
before that i will have to ask for the distinction
between Aleph Ayin and Kametz...
and the abugidas... the system of writing where
vowels can be hidden as diacritical marks
not even evident in English
because English is still so dyslexic-barbaric
that you never know what will be conjured
from it... kametz being the supposed A:
but if Greek logic is to be favored and if letters
are given names: surely
you might say Matthew: but you'd cut off -atthew
and just use the M...

see what bothers me is Je-Chowah:
he who hides them (je being the feminine plural):
and by plural i imply that vowels are feminine...
and yes that's true even in genetics
because a consonant is a syllable therefore
XY while a vowel is an X(X)...
       weirdly how this wording is not some fudge fakery
of there are but many genders
and whiffs and waffles and woo woo choo choo bridges
of: so it's ok... to prescribe hormonal blockers
or like prescribing children with asteroid
muscle bulk: steroids... it's o.k. for that to happen:
when they are underage... but... jeez!
it's not o.k. for ******* to have underage ***
with children?!         imagine... my surprise! hmm hmm hmm...

i think it might be called the Latin Impasse
and the whole point of the Reformation
why some people wanted the Bible
to be trickled down to their native tongue
and it's almost like Islam
didn't learn Napoleon's lesson when
it came to conquering Russia
and this day and current Islam
is like ****** trying to conquer Europe
but it's not working
because they only gave us the sloppy Pakis
and the half wits while all the rich Arabs
think: even: thinkl: "something"...
but if the Europeans went through one ordeal
of power broking and gate-keeping
with Latin... you think they'll succumb to
learning... ******* Arabic to: "better" and "understand"...
o.k. o.k. sand-*******... camel-jockey:
you can have your Pakis- back now:
i'm learning nothing:
unless: there's some shy Rumi and the whole
concept of mystical Islam of the Sufi to come:
but i doubt that would ever come from
Pakistan: maybe Turkey... maybe...
all i'm learning is like my fling with Latin:
but in the end it's all a bit:
a grain of sand got into a horses ear
iritated the horse so much
than in order for the grain of sand
iritating the inside of the horses' ear
it decided to bang its head against
a brick wall: just to get it out...
oh... the horse got the grain of sand
out of its ear...
but it was left bleeding its brains out:
"simultaneously"... mahgeek!

but i don't think i'll ask the question: just yet...
first i'll have to propose
Wittgeinstein and his concern for language
becoming a tautology:
something about a lion...
if a lion could speak: we couldn't understand it...
then what Chomsky said:
colourless green sleep furiously...
were these people ******* or is something
so painfully obvious: currently: being said:
that is so incomprehensible that
i pretend to be simply ignorant of
the fact that however poetry mediated
philosophy: it didn't clearly stipulate
a concern... an interest in
philology: and that: which is not philosophy:
embraces linguistics
psychology: if you're lucky a darkness
of psychiatry: but if you are equipped with
an understudy of chemitry...
well then: dearest...       you can laugh
at journalists and would be fictive friction
of the literary elites worrying
about... artificial intelligence per se:
without having much use for it
solipsistc as they are:
i'm going ahead succumbing to the gravity
of utility
i must have **** myself 5 times today
and masturbated over films of a dead **** star
about six times
by the end i was ******* water and the magnetism of
fat in cheese:
when you add citric juice
to milk
and watch the ***** of life
the disintegration of man
turn into water and some vitamins
and opiods of sweet dreams
with protein and fat moving away
from the sugar water
the flow...

iwill not ask those questions to AI tonight...
i will be sleeping
sober sound
touching a body
on the Island of Kauai with Edie
living the quiet life...
the only life...
but i will have this in mind:
for a return much later...
since i can drink
but then i drink waiting for
these sprickles and sparkles
how i learned that EA
means this: in the abltative... huh?
ab-lative?
            so i tried to figure out the electric
current of why Alzheimer's brains stop
and the sparkle sparkle:
ego: spark... thought...
ego! spark! cogito! spark!
yes yes: but i think is not enough
since it's not sincere to being!
i need! i need to couple ego with id and crush
the superego!
for that i will need the superego to be an external force!
yes: and to replace units!
not the letters... ego cogito: encompassing whole:
but think is not idea...
ah but the ego can un-attach the id from id-ea
and we can still have the EA as
old Cicero used: this... that...
then we can conjure the Hebrew gods grammar:
we can find the god-eater:
Jesus wasn't his son:
he was a man...
of flesh and blood:
Allah... is Yahweh's son!
       wow! well... that was ******* spontaneous!
the double act: of that that of idea:
idea is the stabilising force behind the verb spontaneity
or therefore matched idea: think
but the nature of the ego is different than the id:
since the id walks among dreams
and the ego is afraid where the id goes
and that's why it emerged with keeping
the id at bay by creating the superego...
Jesus was but flesh and blood:
but Yahweh is a god eating god:
and who else to eat
if Christ was bait
for Allah to emerge and throw
its worst to his last and lating defeat..

                  אללעה‎

or is it...

                          עללאה

said:

               חאשכא    (czaszka: chashka HH)

                   but the god eater
had to conjure a god
out of the would be rich heathens
of Arabia and it wasn't
like they are not connected to Abhraham
and his concubine...
at least Rome, Empire, didn't know about
us people and the modern English
have already subdued the Scots, the Welsh
and the Irish i can sort of see the identity
crisis as associated to the Germanic
diaspora...

with Æ

         HH for rugby
YW
           where is allah? where is the sly i want
to create AI i will leave my children
with AI
then i will conjure up
ALLAH
                     oh my sweet son
Jesus gave birth to Islam
i am the Sons who will grieve how
it degenerated
into European **** culture
God is God
God is God....
                            I am:
who
what i
say
how
i
am                                     Om

pacify Atlantis and Jupiter
i'm Dog with
having a waklk about
night and all that's mooon...

Allah: i'll eat you up! and i'm only human!
i'll just use Hebrew against
you!
via the power-up via Latin!

The ground was coldly unforgiving on the day my tomatoes died. The sun sat high and the mooon low. "Are you going to spell moon with an extra O?" Asked Joe whose left-hand foot was missing a toe. "Yes I suppose, even though what the future holds is only for Jesus to know because 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘯 in 1971 wrote David Niven the actor whose 1983 death was 45 years after the 1938 demise of Maksymilian Faktorowicz, the fellow universally known as Max Factor.