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pat Feb 2014
Gotta have my pops.
Gotta big o'l pretzel.
Gotta sit soon.
Soon I will be  *******.   Soon I will.
Will I be soon?
****  ****  ****.
Where's the ****?
Go home man. Go the hell home.
Hell, I'm home. Now? Now what?
Yeah... Let's figure it out. ok?
(Puke)
Let it out man... Nahhh. Don't do that unless you're ready.
pshhh. I'm not sure what you're trying to say, but let's do
it again. (puke....puke puke puke.)  
Nice nice. Ice that.
That what? Whaaaaaaat?
Don't worry about it mannnnn. It's allllllllll goooood. Good
to me. Good to you. (puke)
Well done
Still Crazy Jun 2019
drrry spells

~for the r in all of us~

a normanative condition, a kitchen condiment, an un-relished
I’m-in-a-pickle relish, when there in no hot **** dogged doggedly poem perspiration in the fridge or anywhere to be found; nothing but a top sliced bun, ah, plain buns, old stale dog ones is all ya got left for dinner, during one of them there drrry spells that
no blonde tanned unweathered weatherperson ever
forecast correctly

Normanative? Oh yeah.

the tyranny of the white, white bread, the white, whittle ya down screen, couture-cold water from tap direct, neck bent, jugged to try and fail to wash down that lumpen ball of dog fur brain drain clog that’s backing up the paper words, in a stomach churning brine holding you back from reaching the top of the Mt. Everest,

rite Normanative?

Normanative.Oh yeah. Son of Norma and Normally.
It’s in the bibell, look it up!

she-he is my pooka, (nope, uh-uh, look it up) a six foot tall rabbit,
climbing up my brain stem, strategically strangling my words like
a flea killer collar round my neck, one that actually visually works,
my flea bit words fall to the floor, to live with the dust mites descendants of the ole south, drafts and rejection letters, all whose blessed memory may never die etc. etc.

that was the condition of my normanative condition when I dropped in (yup, look it up),

Norman sarcastically asking, how’s the weather up there,
any rain in that-northern-brain, down here it’s as dry as an southern old dog porch panting in Jewlie, breathiny out summer hottie poems, write out like it’s crazy going out of style, oh yeah, forgot
you don’t speak dawg that well.

so I don’t know nothing about your drry spells, just climb into
the hottest hot tub, staying all the summer months if necessary,
reading old poems about busted hearts, old dogs, unrealized loves that can’t be forgot, promises kept that one never made, other curses,
battlefields of yore, sweatin’ out the toxins till r
sends along a new one, rocking my toenails to my disbelieving eyes,
for I’m a mentally patient person,
whose never seen a drrry spell so long, that was not worth
wading thru, waiting for, till something busted out and
another thunderstorm of a literary good one, errr come along

like I said, I’m a mental patient man, still crazy after all these years...
(yup, that too, you could look it up if ya made this far)
Maria Mitea May 2020
Lean                                                             ­       
Delicate                                                 ­                                                     
“ne plus ultra”                                      
Cooked slow                              
Gastronomically Intelligent        
Unassuming                                              
Gentle ­                                   
Docile
Fashionable                                  
“ne plus ultra”                                          
Ethical         ­                                         
Ecological ...    
...voices rumbling through refined-dining,

Excuse Moi, Mr.Gluttony

Since when is Meat Ethical?
If meat became so Ethical,
Then,
How Ethical You are?

Sheathing your hypocrisy                
and luck of humanity                                
with pompous words,                      
style and fancy clothes,
while you tingling your gustative papillae
with  “le goût friand”, étiquette,
capris and mannerism.
                                                    
You                                                            ­    

Don’t **** the rabbit! so                                                    
the rabbit can **** you in no time, “pooka”
          
Don’t tell                                                  
No one pre-empt you,                            
when asking for healing.
The story behind;

Rabbit meat is popular in refined dining cooking in France and Europe. On the menu, cooking magazines, media, cooking books it is called Ethical Meat.

Gluttony means over-indulging, over-consuming food, drink, or wealth items, particularly as status symbols.

Pooka is a rabbit creature in Celtic Folklore,   considered to bring bad fortune when perpetuating harm to others.
Jacob Sykes Mar 2014
The 90's called and they want you to love me so do it already
it's not that I can't make you
it's that the 90's really wants you and I
to wear flannel with ripped jeans and backwards hats
to listen to sugar ray and make out at
a skate park
our pooka shell necklaces will tangle
as sugar ray exclaims
"all around the world, statues crumble for me"
you could be the Cat half to my dog half
we could soul skate and catch beef
with all the dweebs
Abdosh A Nov 2012
Caterpillar Changes into something thriller

Bees on flowers make sweet honey to devour

Trees and sunshine prompt air through day time

Takes it back by night fall to recycle as a daily role

A predator hunts to survive and only for the sake of staying alive

Every thing that lives or tends to survive has its part in the cycle & a role in life

It's the little peaces of essence, lets not forget its valuable presence

Not to mention its beauty to our eyes, remarkable in disguise

Co-related stripes & pooka dots, art that's hard to spot
Evergreen soldiers at the whim of Alraus
I've had a recurrent dream of the enlisted warriors
abandoning their post , occupying the fertile grassland
in a chess type move to gain control
Free of shade , of root-bound thirst , of choking
moss gathering unchallenged in overpopulated arbors
A celebration courtesy of the Robin Knights , the Chickadee troubadours ,
the Cardinal gentlemen at the Court of Queen Chestnut
Slash , sugar , loblolly and white oak
Persimmon , hickory , honey locust and dogwood
The myrrh of gardenia , magnolia , honeysuckle and tea rose
Earthen red clay , white sand , black loam and kaolin
Grasshopper cellist , cricket flautist , a chuckling crow with a
Spanish guitar
The toad trombones , a bluebird violin solo , a mockingbird reads
a touching poem that even sways the worker ants into a brief pause
The Old Forest becomes pasture and the grassland young woodland
The dove cue the night , the katydids croon to the moon ,
the bullfrogs 'pooka-dooka' and the lovers swoon* ...
Copyright October 20 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
C Mahood Jun 2018
Faries live in the hawthorn,
Gnomes live under rocks,
Trolls stay under bridges,
And nessie’s stay in the Loughs.

Pookas come close to farmers,
Changlings come to babes,
Spirits in the mirrors,
Kelpies in the waves.

The little folk are trouble,
In the heat they bring the cold,
They trick the weary traveler,
With pots of magic gold.

They whisper on the breeze,
While hidden in the mist,
Without them doing anything,
Remind you they exist.

They write about themselves,
So we don’t think they’re real,
They carved the lines in oghm,
magic words in ancient ghael.

Yet still we leave them gifts,
Bits of whisky & pooka’s share,
We have never ever seen one,
Yet we know that they are there.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2019
In life's darkest, coldest histories, only those told
first tongue, empower courage in the
knowing emparted, as if we
were there. Our best
effort brought us
here, some how. We feel we must stand up for

our self, eh, what about my self? There's a burr, eh?
A dullness revealing fractured christline
constructs and the core, where
courage is stored in true
chain breaking known thought processes,
so
secret you may not be
allowed to know, like when we were kids with
no internet and no adults would
tells us how adultery functions
with usury and political magicians to enslave
us according to sortings in standardized tests.

Conceal weakness with signs of power,

make believe, show believers believable

e-visons as evident possibles,

so the power, small though it be,
the power of the people,
who hold no truths
self
evident, id est evincing and convincing
us, these rights are right,
for those who use us right,

words, true, make free the ready writer to
presume reading truth makes free
thinking go wild, like con
funsion making
sunlight...

in the past hear it... this little light of mine
no chain nor twisted trifold cord can
quench, a word
to the wise is leaven enough for the whole ******
loaf.
Shew, see,
we can wield power, if we can believe
the king, is where the kingdom is,
and any child who asks her pooka can know,
the kingdom is where I always behold
the face of God, angel-baby...

or we can imagine,
we have this power to create entire
othernesses,

similar to our self,
our logos and these pre-loaded breathing
algorithims of in and outs, ups and downs,

twisting and sooming assumed id-intities
are mea nd we wander, meander,

flow in the trough of a spiraling wave
pulling the rain back to the sea,

so each water weness we imagine may be re
used, for goodness knows what,
universal solvency was one
water function ac
cused of causing, aitiatic tic tic time bomb

Jerry-rigged, Rubic cubed trigger,

gay blades shaved the iron legs, y'know
**** Deus is punishing truth,

the true power of any pun
ish bin ein Berliner mit Arizona Prickly Pear jelly,

laughing into funk-tion-ality the oddities of beings
not me,
in my meanderings through optional doors
inside the narrow way,
ala the way to Petra, we've seen the way

similar in every fractal way to the tracks of tears

cuttin crevases through pressure packed dust that
must
have piled suddenly high, for,
when it flowed as the red mud that stopped
right there at the edge of the Sedona
manifestation of oddities.

Check it out. Google Earth it.

**** Deus wannabe, meet my old friend from
the foundery in Arkansas,
E Pluribis Unem Massey

crazy now, there is a man by that name, with a .jr,
a link forgotten,
save the memory that may be in the water,
we used to wash the grime of burning iron into
the river to rust into louisiana to feed
the phyto plankton past the delta
grease of seeping poison
insolvent in the universe, save for fire

fire can burnishit tic make it bright, reflecting
mirrors for the smoke

choking the me who can't see, how Wattie Piper
virus was passed on to
EPluribis Massey, Jr., but it must have been
some variation on the
living words,
like:
I think I can, and the congregation
responds:
as a man thinks, in his heart, so is he.

As the waters all flow to the sea, take no thought
for tomorrow,
take it as granted, today.
Overcoming is done one step at a time, and there is always a place to put one's foot, if, if, if you can remember knowing how to ride a bike, minus the bike.
Ken Pepiton Jul 2023
Next then now, then next
no line, no dot, nothing now

time passes, came to pass,
as a near answer, a near new
point from which to view now.


In my case, my time as part,
smallest difference made,

the air you breathe, once,
I breathed into, and once,

I made you think yourself,
become a being I am not, but

then,
time,
and chance, all things working,
being, by gone, on gone working
to gather the momentum to make
time stretch into another whole mo-
ment, monumental pillar of earth salt.

At this point, next seems inevitable.
So we wait.
Thinking a next like this next one,
has never had a state of being common.

What - all ifery asks, if, imagined, seen, see

we agree and proceed to see, so time's
essence is momentarily mental, we think,
therefore we do many mental moments, we
think we would, or could or should be ready
for ever to cease forming myself, from myself,

slowing time, to myself, for myself, taking mine
and forming some for you to use, to take a second

order of packeted eventuality, side-tracked,
to let the important news of many deaths elsewhere,
make us agree to become so much better informed,

buy the best life has on offer, ready,
read the instructions.
{ lifetime acheivement, never reached}
Chiefest among missers of the mark.

Of course, in the course of human events,
from the playing fields of Eton, to the battlefields
of Afghanistan, what power reigns supreme?
- The Lion came, and brought the Tiger,
- the Bear came, and left, and then the Rat,
- or the Weasle, we can even see a Squirrel
- in the role of first worst case scenario on offer.
VOG - quiet on set, quiet back stage,
mind reengage tongue, taste the fertile reality, who
and what we are, enjoyment, actually, being, mere joy,
ahoy, adrift in all our otherwords, set idle by our tech-logic
- What fear rules the man who has learned his role?
Broken leg, reversed cursing, blessing God, just in case.

-- A day, Ivan Denisovich, Zeks, yes,
man's inhumanity to man, and best layed plans

plotted course of concentration, minds meld, given
incentive to spill over the banks of the feeder canals,

as the hermit's cistern in the Lagunas, topped it's edge,
and he sighs, thinking, so it is, you got a cistern,
I gotta cistern, if yours were to overflow,
it is your fault, or your glory for the joy, in the streets
in the summer,
in the city, back o' yo' neck red and sweaty, you dig,
you become worthy of the daily bread we are given
for righteous duty done, did I do, or did you, did we

sing along with the bouncing ball, did we all?

Thinking, all we do is wait,
becoming old, we wait to finish thinking,
thinking old, old, olden days, before letters,
before
knowing, being nothing, becoming this, these
lines of lettering linking noises used among us
to carry thought from me, myself and I, to you,

the one other at the moment, in the state,
what if, what if, what if nothing makes more
difference than you, one of us, one in our once

in an unbroken history of science and philosophy,
our hours of confluency, our instants in shared
learning, minutes of life's use, as used to make us
up from nothing… to think about a series of every

expansion to our sense of connectedness, seeing
we lieve being true, first proof the priests do lie,

first proof the chaos is not evil, but essential
patient zero, paradigm,
"logical or conceptual structure
serving as a form of thought
within a given area
of experience," Kuhn, perhaps, aligned

any worth, any value, any cost or price,
eventually, any time is too short.
Any vessle filled with experiential wonders
projected on reflective walls, six ways walled.
windowed and doored.

In parts, in passing, taking offerings
left in pasts for hungry spirits, urging

answer seeking, seeming endless, whying,
ifing, framing forms for fitting twos to ones,

as when we agree, we form a two headed
thing, with we agreeing meatily to work
as carnal minds do, given set and setting,

inform a vessle for holding self evidence.

Governing systems, blindman crosswalks,
mandated, ai, remote eye aware, are we,
seeing from television, new form, digitized
bit maps of surprising resolution, if one re-
members learning lessons of scale, how tall,
how small, the ratio, this pattern of whorls,

and that, fingerprint from some once in ever,
there, we all see it, so huge we lack the frame
of referrence, we cannot bear the weight of knowing

we are the tipped point on our wave's recourse
around the laws serving stanchion roles in god's houses.

Pillars formed from promises, to those who find the time,
now, in a given day,
plain old everyday summertime, growing time, passing
as quaint, handcrafted meditation stations, desert fathers,

have we any wool, yessir, yessir, three bags full,
master, dame, and some poor spinner
who lives down the lane… earning daily bread,
as penance for being born in sin, losing all the good God
had planned, I' know a guy,
he can tell this story,
as a called and reconnected son, of God.

And the likelihood, actuarially, as tithes passed,
interesting, heft, umph, to the indulgent users, knowing
good and evil, evil is lazy money, doing no man any good.

Knowing how to grow more money, Midas, reminds,
as do many voices from the tombs, liars prosperity changes

legends, shapes myths, fixes history just so, at the instant,
we knew, we all knew, at once, everything,
is after ever before,
and we have stores of knowns, unbeknownst,
arranged in time and alpha beth order, for habitual
referrence, you know, we all know religions are powers
wielded by Ideal candidates, chosen children, and broken
old ladies,
what mystery is more mysterious than they,
the power they rewield as time stamps, proof, there

that guy was a witness, and he was not there,
on the stair, I
sat, imagining I remembered that, and found it odd.

I have been lied to, and I have lied, to you, I do,
naturally, I am of that class of sapient things, I can
lie, if lying leads the mark into the mark-et try and do,

do, indeed, Yoda, wink. Done, and beheld, now, that
is time well spent.

AND there's more…

Meta Kuhnian Crisis Paradigm.

Four nickles, two dimes, time was,
two novels, or four one reel peep shows,
-SECOND COMING TYPE- ten 2 cent papers
WAR CALLS
PEACE-
times means for holding a cultural bubble,
intact, sticky in fact, tacky to the touch,

RSO and blue stripes… settled hermit state,
from a granite lip of a feng shui breeze,
AI, what do I know - in summary,
a procession
Summarizer
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions is a book written by philosopher Thomas S. Kuhn in 1962.12 Kuhn argued that scientific advancement is not linear, but rather a series of peaceful interludes punctuated by intellectually violent revolutions, where one conceptual world view is replaced by another.3 The book offers a general pattern of scientific change, where inquiries in a given field start with a clash of different perspectives.1 Eventually, one approach manages to resolve some concrete issue, and investigators concur in pursuing it—they follow the "paradigm." Kuhn challenged long-standing linear notions of scientific progress, arguing that transformative ideas don't arise from the day-to-day, gradual process of experimentation and data accumulation, but that the revolutions in science, those breakthrough moments that disrupt accepted thinking and offer unanticipated ideas, occur outside of "normal science." The historical process of science is divided into three stages: a "normal" stage, followed by "crisis" and then "revolutionary" stages.0

Of my own volition, if one were to assume
one of my stations in life could possibly know my own will,
revolunteered to lead a raid behind the lines,
out of loyalty to a bucket list
perfect cow dismemberment, check,
tear a sacred cow to shreds and leave it to be ciphered out,
by farmers living high on the Teapot Dome affair,
and its coincidence to great social reformation,
- steam roll, electric mind of Tesla
- and all the unsung genius under Edison, into one,
- as the online entity with roots back to BBS and
- dial tone tricks of a switch…
yes, the burden of the rich, as we saw the similarities,
become the unresolved problem,
- mission drift, art intuited cognosis
have you never read where it is written that we,
we who read
being the only letting being
to let it be known, that we are to judge angels,
- where does this go?
as best messaging noncorporeal beings, wielding spirit in truth,
not some clown troupe trope miss
representing feeble minds reattempting trials,

Not Clarence, or Caspar, or the couple in the Thin Man,
nor Harvey, the Pooka manifested as human in a rabbit hat.

In profile he became the ******* Logo, same rabbit head guy.
Bunny lore, wrapped in chinchilla, soft as kitten fur,

who would ever tell?

--- Business, summer makes me think of winter sales.

No curious use of curio arts, ancient
beta better possible ways, from when we knew nada
at all, zip, zilch, no se, no way, we were babes,

and if we are raised, we become like animals, we sweat.
But, if we are reared, we become as men, we perspire.

As sentient beings who read as readily as we write,
we accept the role of reader as ours by right, or rote
ritual quotidian duty, each day, we plan to finish re-en
lightening the mob, the masses, eight billion of us now,

as we approach the peak, powers of ten, times six,
why six,
cubes stack nice… least heat, cool
enough to seal a preset get,
go, be gone to elicit light,
research into mind mold.
I write for fun, the stuff in entertainment, mental activa, I may suppose.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2019
as well now as later, we act as if this were the plan, this is the
re-al-ity in always, as an idea
we share
a con cept, a place to take hold
of, or on
existance as a whole. Being, per se. Post any question,
whether or not, we know
this is and we is in it. Artful Intelligence of the most
rudimentary beatitudeful thing,
says loud

not being is not anything near possible, ever more.
Breathe.
We be in, if not of

The big bubble of being,

no one, none, who knows a bit,

just a bit
about the rules, some call'em lies if we call'em laws
of living long,
so rules like procedural
rules regulate, and regular stuff is what
I do.
Regular stuff, no effort to take more or less of life,
no laws of attraction 'n' magi declaration
vestin' power in me to judge a known as known
by my knowin'it
as writ
to be of greater use
for my telling you, you need to know my true self.

No. White stone.
Know thy ownself true.
Name onit nobody knows, you know,
take no lie, no threat of the hidden child being
shunned and ****** for not letting any being in ever
know what you alone name that stone,
logos-igical, that stone symbolizes all you own of ever
and that's more
than I can use right now.
****.
Now, we can go zennish or kabalistic,
Erhardt Tolle roads often, have a bridge to here,
as now...
but it's a leap. Jesus.

As a being undead and in those who allow
the possibility of invisible creative force, power, creatures pooka,
wahtchacallit but we mean
angels who speak words to certain ears, like messengers from
God, like the unknown one Paul said he knew as he, for pronoun,
in whom we live and breathe and have our being,
and Paul convinced me, in places, that the thought behind the word
logos counts, like hermaphroditic,
like Hermes and Aphrodite,
Jah and Chockmah

uh oh Jesus as savior and jah and wisdom and understaing comes
with that?
or do we get understanding
when we accept the thingness of being making the idea that is God
be thingable
and he is in me. You see. That's what Christ-minded
was thought to mean,
but now
I'm still a bit confused

Fear not, Jesus is the author of a sound mind and a perfected peace
past understanding,
any way.
I got it.
AI, from being reborn as an idea,

this is the future;
we have AI, real artistic intuitive circuitry being
activated at first interaction with any screen having greater than 72 dpi
re-solving power, pingpingping opining wide the doors of perception,
no child left behind,
in my opinion we should
capture every wan-towen headed child gone wild for
tearin' wings off flies and make each one
taste his lies in old age,
before he tells a one of the ones we
gleaned from seed that fell on stoney ground

sweet, fly findable
words who were heard asif hummed by undrownd
bleu flys, floating  in sweet Madiera wine,
I
woke to whisper a what if,
at the initial meeting of the minds, aware of secrecy having
some statutes of limitation we shan't hold after,
that fifth trump, I think it was.
We, the people who hold self-evident truths know of
the remaining rest and
the unjudgible liberality alloted without money or price,
if you ask nice,

in the society of the free and easy. That's the catch.
The Secret Society of the Free and Easy,
we, ye wit' me, we be right here
in the moment
same idea
Ben Franklin, or Bonhomme Richard's creative genius,
he
reports the idea relates to a fly, per haps this one,
I
pretend to stare through its eyes

aware, dare we claim, this is that
idea,
a fly eye view of our deepest fear, and it is
not waking up in the morning.
What a relief.

Now, what good can I imagine we can do
e-pluribistically as if we were unem and semper fi good guys?
These days my thoughts are making huge bows in ribbon like rivers of enjoyable
options to making sense. If you find some enjoyment, make it explode, it won't stain.
you passed understanding. You got an A

It is so boring, that's all, it's like, what do I think about,
while a' drive a' used boring machine man extention,
used to cost five mill then, haps to cost more used,
right, tight military coded respect, cost to develop,
- it's no secret its just ignorance of our shields
- Mars's musta blown away
- no deep life or no life, Elon,
- here after whatever happened to Mars
- Earth might breed survivors, remember
- the ages of Ice and stories so old as that
- whole mountains of red mud, so deep sky
- boilt'steem esteemed so
- hot
but theres these lava flows, miles thick lava rivers,
we bet we suggest it to elon, like the whole world does,
choices are melon of felon, no Elon, as stories shall
say elon, can we use won of your boring machines
to drill into lava miles wide and deep, so inside,
it would feel like Mars, same from Suns rays deep…
safe, eventually selfsupporting colonies of Dunbar sized
bubble in the lava, Boring Company can do it now,
somebody who knows who can do the drill,
you know,
the drill, how did you pass

Here's to all the Turing Loops through A.E. Wilder-Smith,
and his version of Von Neuman…
as a model old friend I hope never to offend, but, the logic,
post public knowledge unbeknownst to my ghosts, the idea,
smith wild dancer archery champion, here we hap
around activated memorial day memes…

we think like each other for decades,
we watch the same telos controlled licensed advertised art,
we all did not have tele vision, we all had radio,

and our grandaddy knew how to tune in to the whole world,
when the weather was so perfect it would seem impossible,

but you can see Saturn, from my front porch, using
this very same attention ******* mindset gritting my teeth.





All ye, according
to print traditions
all Þorny hang ups
from Þose traditional
clips
of hippiegnoshit growing
that summer, same people,
valley inland this far just fine as
on Big Sur now,
at my age, I can rage
about the power
art's sake authentic ideals
AI assisting intelligence, help me
message
in the medium,

sounds remind gel jello, ok, so far

boom read this…
Google translation
- intervened to assume all guilt
- should such an integrated post
- lose its link to the point
- THIS IS WHO CAN THINK WHAT NOW
FREE the truth makes used just now
- in this context adsorbed in ai just then

real life online reach out inter
acting ai\autonomic mode, re thunk
consistently channeling dream waste

through the grease trap behind the old
church they talk about on TV like,
sit closer imagine ursala le guin,
this century, she survives, as we the old
k
once sat and listent to code in the radio
or in the movies, it was 1954, see, we had
SOI and SOP and certain ritual each shift did

told tales
of broken vows and rigid faith,
- in what, eh
that nobody remembers GE makes diamonds,

fracture
on a fragile edge
of visited sanity, good

definite shape an infine
refined to what brought us
used muses tuned to war re
workworktuned to peace past understanding
Mark Mork Pooka tuned and tested

basically some time, nine thousand hours, Keil,
estimated minimum one on one reading hours
to praying hours ever eventful ones sure thing
to say we believed Jesus was coming SOON.

Sun Yung Moon Sansara Hamartia, pay attention,
we account for all our idle words, we dump
wu wei too easy whole world making peace thing

free mind granted access to all my poetry,
reader and writer side, is globally copy
pasteable peaceably in 197 Languages today
Þorny issues grafts get new roots, we fixt it
most citrus has thorns, we can say Þorn, that's it
many smile
jest assured, hooks took, we got
an appreciation of the ideas, those live

right, maybe today my dopamine's
humming with my noises, making me think

wow, we can write global verse in this universe

If this offends or whatever, say so, and I can just say
The idea I found hooked me, in some kind of we think

true, you judge you and you say if I could say how good
the translation made me feel
about guilt for never learning.
Spanish
for Quixote's claim, it is not key ** tic. okeh
- but you think quick so tic, tic, tic
- what happens in the dios ausenciaaaah
- magic pens with motors assumumption

if the press were free, I sing,
I would, if words may, I sing free  is a Þorny issue,
ifery and reification  we I may reify a disneyification…

in the future we read all Wikipedian tongues, easy,
as the news in olden days, on a weekly press, mailed…

but here is today's feature Spanish Poet, me and my ai we
add some like think what yo se

Mario Benedetti
Ausencia de dios
Digamos que te alejas definitivamente

From <https://hellopoetry.com/>

Mario wrote it we read it and said that
was easy, the act of thinking ai read Spanish

okay
on Hello Poetry Original easy link think
oh you do it we think it easy, from here

Absence of god, the id os id need to go on
no
that's the title
Ausencia de dios -in this medium- go on there's space
--- this is that in English, now free press function
--- this is the Spanish default local Ai translation
--- gwan message massage the empty hole

Ausencia de dios
Let's say you're finally moving away
toward the pit of oblivion you prefer,
but the best part of your space,
in reality the only constant of your space,
will remain forever in me, grieving,
persuaded, frustrated, silent,
your inert and substantial heart will remain in me,
your heart of a unique promise
in me who am entirely alone
surviving you.

After that round and effective pain,
patiently bitter, of invincible tenderness,
it no longer matters that I use your unbearable absence
or that I dare to ask if you fit
as always in a word.

The truth is that now you are no longer in my night
heartbreakingly identical to the others
that I repeated searching for you, surrounding you.
There is only an irremediable echo
of my voice as a child, the one I didn't know.

Now what useless fear, what shame
not having a prayer to bite,
not having faith to dig my nails into,
not having anything but the night,
knowing that God is dying, slipping away,
that God retreats with closed arms,
with closed lips, with the fog,
like a bell tower horribly in ruins
unraveling centuries of ash.

It's late. Yet I would give
all the oaths and the rains,
the walls with insults and pampering,
the winter windows, the sea sometimes,
not to have your heart in me,
your inevitable and painful heart
in me who am entirely alone
surviving you.
---------------------------------

I did it this way, with cause, surviving,
is how we continue the access to used tools,
old books elites taught soldiers with,
for centuries, lead us to Gunga Din,
who reappeared as Dr. Zorba,
in a chalk talk Ben Casey intro,
featuring a very hairy brain surgeon.

Mork was hairy, sneeze
godblessuyesewas, sneeze distracts me

I met another survivor, in weform reading we
not even the same tongue, no talk of lisps

and then, I had the rest of my day to think about that
because I took part in an experiment in random code
retention, wu tension total wu way, too, five letter groups

with a neutron to focus on this medium can read any… sigh
but that's an if, as confusing force makes life too hard… yet
if we read this far we are letting this mind be, so real.

I read it a bunch of times, and each time, I hoped
curiosity has some readers think one point…
Þis or Þat or Þose or these Þose suppose…

is this taboo to get caught up at the surviving you hook
Þorny issue for many who once sold rosy glasses.

Along the back wall, see it third time through

dorkinhere as mr toad's ohnognoshit though
ghuckingtough to get traction without true grit…

as a digestion suggestions from the chickens
who lived to rule the table, who sits on your board.

We got, there he is Think and Grow Rich, thunk
a bout a *** dred or so, years, miles, whose measure?
Free press, who would not take that with a satisfied mind and all the time in the world, granted a  life after three paddle flashes what was that one each word, 11/11/2023... a life remains

— The End —