So I’ve been praying a bit as of late.
I’m not a real member of any particular
denomination; at the present time,
I pray to: “to whom it may concern.”
Not sure of his name—
Actually, I suppose it could be a her.
Sorry, Gloria Allred.
Let’s see there’s God,
there’s Buddha,
then there’s obviously Harry Potter.
There’s always Eric Clapton,
especially in the sixties and seventies.
There’s Pablo Escobar’s legend.
There’s Christ the Savior.
My ex calls the mighty one Yahweh.
I might refer to him as Yogi,
or is it yoga?
Wait—I meant Yngwie Malmsteen.
There’s d-lysergic acid, courtesy of Owsley.
Then there’s always Tai Chi.
It’s whatever you want to call it in order to
center yourself in this slightly slanted world.
I need to pick one of the above, because I
really am dragging my feet at this point.
Any one of my friends would agree that the
bottoms of my shoes appear to be charred.
Holy friction burn, Batman!

Every day, make a pledge
to find something where
you’ve never looked before.
Find a banker fried
on the arc lights of power;
a pair of lacy ******* in
your grandpa’s sock drawer;
come stains you can’t recall
on you best umbrella;
a hundred silver dollars
in the cookie jar;
two used condoms
in your aunt’s jello salad;
Nixon’s missing 18 minutes on
the 8 track of your Gremlin;
The Ark Of the Covenant
behind your broken fridge;
a hit of Owsley acid
in your dad’s bible.
Wonder, wonders, wonderful.
Forget a rebirth of wonder.
The truly marvelous lurks
everywhere around
waiting to be found.

  ~mce

The Thorazine cocktail is a mean and nasty drink
Chemical sludge, black as hell's deepest dungeon
Enriched with the power of Mighty Thor's hammer
To smash your fragile brain pan and leave your senses numb
Belly up to the bar, boys
Jack Daniels is a school boy writing fifty time I must not
Jim Beam is a bully but he only picks on weaker spirits
80 proof ain't a ******* thang
Thorazine puts them all to shame
Explore new dimensions of bitterness
The Thorazine cocktail is a wrecking ball
You never develop a feel for it
No, it always tastes like half baked death
And smells a pungent metallic drift
Dead animals on the highway, rotting in the sun
Knock 'er back, Jack, drink it to the dregs
The dude in white thinks it's funny when you beg
You plead to take it away, how it's ******* with your head
You can't even remember what any of the voices said
You must be well, Old Jacky boy, don't need it anymore
Then again these things are weird, you can never be too sure
The dude with the cups seems to think it's not time
To kick it cold turkey, the order's been signed
So you might as well resign yourself
To the sledgehammer's blow this fine summer's eve
And shuffle away like a zombie
Hey look, that old John Huston movie about the Bible is on the television in the day room
It's just getting started, the creation scene like outtakes from the last ten minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey
Isn't that a coincidence?
Doesn't that make a lot of sense?
Jack, you might as well be tripping on Owsley's personal stash

I think I have written about a million words,
And  that does something, a million words,
each accounted for at once, no lies,
only errors in comprehension,

some ideas repel description.
especially ones
with names,
who live legendarily in the dark
straight hallways, windowless,
hallwallssmooth as buffed bees wax,
slide down the long red hall
at ft huachuca -

Hoho kam kam legend in my friend mind
Curio dancers all sorts and clans,
those learn
in round houses… the role you are to take,
or walk away… from now,
you read as I read,
we form a we to read with, see
everywhere,
plain writing on all the walls,

earth has been infected with knowers
who know the truth of all the old lies,
are unspeakable.
pfftfugititshitsucksfooooooool!

I do allow angels, bearers of courage,
once courage is put in place
ventrally, gut level,
semper fi
do or die.
laud (v.) laud
"praise highly, sing the praises of," late 14c.,
from Old French lauder
"to praise, extol,"
from Latin laudare
"to praise, commend, honor, extol, eulogize,"
from laus (genitive laudis)
"praise, fame, glory."
Probably
from an echoic PIE root *leu-
and cognate
with Old English leoð
"song, poem, hymn,"
from Proto-Germanic *leuthan
(source also of
Old Norse ljoð
"strophe,"
German Lied
"song,"
Gothic liuþon
"to praise"). Related: Lauded; lauding.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/laud>

Believing the rallying cry. Laud. Laud.
Be all you can be.
Modeled on the heroes shown,
framed in this Weltanschaung,
duty X calls
- you skip, duty 2 appears,
- one more ignor and your account is
- in arears, here in the rereward guard,
- like the hinder most guardian believer,
- anointed, confirmed, called of truth,
- to protect the king and his judges.
- Some mind must judge the useful
- from useless drivel ignored sense Babel.


Days of Peleg, this leg of that journey, crosses
ours here, if you lose your place, the train
passes several random times, sometimes
after dark,
when the jitters are all jumped out,
we sway,
we slow dance as shown on TV, old boomers do.

Don't believe that story ends
as neatly as Ozzie and Harriet, {Did that end}
Then, be all you can have been
being. Set and setting:

War story number next.
Khai Vinh Fishnet Factory, 1968

Experience the experience trial.
Purple Haze, dreamin' on Owsley's flow,
it was
a long long time ago.

Yokel simple mind unwinding with a snap.
To attention, to be lauded for third place,
once again,
imitation smartest guy in the room,
exposed, as stupider than one and two.

Wars have formed from less damaged pride.
Inside the soldier, some thing snapped
to attention, the guardian exposed
the secret to the imitative poet…
woe is me, I am not wise
-I wrote:
In this, the seventeenth year
of my life
I am not wise.
Old men are wise…

-- we read to learn if others may yet imagine
making up good minds, that lack the knack
needed to employ money…

insurance proof- poems are ones
recalled after a lifetime
reused to derail grand lines of lies,
imitation poetry, plato banned those, not these,
if you please… transmission ended, third
removed from best, once more
fabricate a future
whither now is plain as day, in the mind
mentioned recently,
there is yesterday, and today and ever at the same
point,
where any story emerges, originally…
subterfuge ensued, in pursuit of reason
to be good, or good reason not to fret
being judged.

One common message, any angel carries,
fear not, do not lie,
the experience is scary in place, fixed position,
but the places are cultural metaphors,
packeted info,
modeled on the barefoot road,
the one ants make in the eastern mojave,

that road, those roads, wind around stones
too big to budge, but we are measurers,
gatherers of known knowns for power
over those taught not to know, given
the imitation of a mind, duty,
is not that mind, whoa,
and
there is a mind
that was in Christ,
according to professional knowers
of all Paul
of Tarsus, may have written;
which mind resulted in Jesus, Christ message,
echoic imspirative ding
-train my thoughts to finish in time
-- 2021 phone rings
Morphic resonance tic, remember
not knowing who it was, but learning
at a distance of a need in a friend, that's
rare… this friend who helped me help him
by helping me
-ping he calls me back, tic
Definitely like all the saviors in the imitative
poetry, the dramas presenting ways
to see the logic on the wall
to blind people on TV,

that is a good idea, but not visually… word.
Amen,
make it so, mental me, imagine we meld
mind wise, word to reader in me,
the middle
occurrence between now and next.

Suddenly, reality is word in vitro.

Dumbfounded, speechless
who. You and I were
there,
we did not see the Who Horton heard on TV
Related to this argument was Wertheimer’s concept
of Pragnanz (“precision”)
in organization;
when things are grasped as wholes,
the minimal amount
of energy is exerted
in thinking.
To Wertheimer,
truth was determined
by the entire structure
of experience rather than
by individual sensations or perceptions.

From <https://www.britannica.com/biography/Max-Wertheimer>

Dynamic living history, reaches to to -Toto, here, Toto

cognitive revolt
piled on the new left right brain uses
sorting and finding worth
stacking and digging

having being
active dynamic being, thinking this can
go on and stay on
ever after if we accept the mortal limits
stories mental

this is like that was, only now, not then

the motion is time, time moves

field- corn or force? field cybernetic
Norbert Wiener- Warren McCulloch - Grey Walter
men who math
The Human Use of Human Beings

how do we instruct ourselves

we have knowledge, knowing is a knack we have

co-gnosis mind you, is something we do, abstractly
pulling
right from wrong.

--- Acadamia, the elite among learned-edu
matrixilated hacked't adams henrys
on the grid of ganz gestalt, das whole enchilada

LOUD - like Owsley's Wall of Sound - broken
by feedback, and
we can imagine that, we
can depict it
as seen on TV, my generation, the actual Archons,

the few sold first, first realized the end means,
now
in the course of human events, this is the realm
of all possible things,
and nothing remains
impossible, no joke, once everything

is swallowed whole, nothingness is not a
ganz gestalt aspect in the whole truth and
nothing but
the truth…. shooeee, too deep for me, I plea
and
pass. Psst, come and see, if this gocognosticism
functions as funk, was imagined, what
is that
thing they say, jive, is jive, is being jive
being good
or being good for nothin', real evil, nothin'.
you ain't
nothin' Ha

Reader be ready, steady, gone on to dis
cover -we all got songs we oughta remember

easy links to certain rhymes in the common tongue
of our time, we pidge-on bits of rap and old TV
add some Johnny Cash,
ev-boo'nighknown, ring o' fire, dance
redun
this is the Goethe flow, I suspected could exist,

P.K. ****, and Wallace of Infinite Jest, each
thought this act might follow wholes
of any perceptual samenesses,

the depth of an exploratory shaft, certain
sense of suggestible camera obscura,

tiny, pin-hole in the dusty velvet curtain,
shine, see on me, I feel, I see,
left eye
right eye, two things converge and doubtless,
both sides know, right
in front of each of us, is a blind spot,
what
is that absense? Is it a story wishing it were told,
or a fact you can follow to your gravest self,
if your will is such that, some how,
you must

well, maybe, we can help. AH, that is cheating yes.
Have you learned to lie to the devil,
did you ever meet him, her, it, one of them

spirits spoken of in spooky-geistliche,
olden days, and olden ways,
witchers with wands of willow, not of copper,

splash. dead rat
aqua dulce memories, these
bubble from a spring,
these feed a cistern of my own cleansing, done right,

I used bleach, Purex Bleach and an old straw broom,
I scrubbed any bit of drowned rat from that cistern,
I rewove the rips in the screens,
I called it completely clean and crawled out,
with bucket, and broom, empty
cistern echo, boomer
memories are the last in America, pre-TV

think about that a minute,
see if there ain't something in it, this us, we are
this classified mindset, set between '47 and now


for shared time cones merging now
way out there, eons ago, geo speed.

--- you had a hard time, I see, I had an easy time.

When were you worldly minded?
--- same general time as you, if this is 2021 tech
we are'n maybe weren't meant to be so loud,

there are reasons we did not learn some things
in school. Talkin' 'bout my

generally speaking, world wide, now, first time ever,
the aged
around the entire liveable band of post cataglumic last
time long ie live-life-able
I
enjoy the effort, let the dam break, the cleansing
right, as usual, is done.

Last time, the end was a surprize, this time,
this is the end, and it runs on to heat death in
the coolest of times to be alive
and
and have history to backup the *******…
are you
really
experienced, skritchy skritch skritch,

well,
I am, and, this has been my last show, re done
as a musical in mindfields back home.

Shout out as they say, Truth known is addictive

-- so where did these knowers post conjectors
as to how next is any worse? Hello Poetry, okeh,
tell the Alte Vista spiders we found
the joker who lied to the thief.