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.

I’m a new kid,
I have a new name.
A new game?
I’m; here…
Undisputed,
I can’t reMember My Old name-
-I’m… Here…

Why do adults live with separation?
I mean; people don’t communicate,
“Consuming assumptions so you can hate”,
But know it is only the variables that are even exchangeable when reaching solutions in mind,
Peep thee illusions of time,
If we live in the moments, it’s fine-
Until we come across a choice and we’re absent from our voice,
It’s the voices we’re fed that sides;
Uhh DECIIDE!,
(“be humble”)
There’s THREE TIMES,
(“sit down”)
Now breathe…
The dreams I’m having, reiterated “I” in past;
But yet, I’m here,
Right now, my last thought is the last, last,
Cause says be; clear,
On my intentions,
I want love and affection,
That’s why I put myself sec (secondary) and,
Call me Reese Bobby;
In a world of duality,
“If you ain’t first-”
-You’re definitely not second,

What is transgression?
-If we were made to be,
Why does the resurrection of thy self only exist in make belief?
How can I indulge and embrace realities that weren’t made for me?
Especially when I was giving my own, it seems foolish to trade my ability to see,

I experienced her;
It’s a blessing, how she’d hold me tight,
I experienced him,
I never questioned who he was, inside,
I never fight… unless it’s by side,
It is beside, I fought with them; I speak of internal conflict,
Control accomplished,
The ego beyond it; we realize it’s the experience that takes us to a place in time, I speak of a space in a line that curves on a geometric plane that consists of circles intertwined that is often perceived as the fabrics of the universe but to save us the stretch of time, we see that it is the experience that defines life,
So who am I?
That question’s redundant,
It is all that resides in me;
I.e. abundance,
It is because of everyone in my reality, that I was able to see the cohesion, and it is because of that reason that I experience oneness,
I’m simply done with,
Using other people’s beliefs to constitute how I interact,
Because their realities are incompatible with what I essentially, intend to attract,
Certain interactions can remain abstract,
I can no longer take opinions on thoughts, if I’m the only one experiencing thoughts;
Your imagination shouldn’t be programed to be comprehensive with the past- extract,
There’s no math in that,
You’re just rearranging the variables, there’s no flow towards the conclusion;
Perspectives placed in fact,
And although this realization can be an impact,
We’d only turn our focus into a debate on what you did lack rather than embracing the thoughts that occurred that would only exploit one thing,
The solutions to the equations that you did have,
As the creators of our realities,
If it is problematic, the writer of the problem encodes an Easter egg that exploits how it is; it was you who did it,
How can we enjoy new thoughts, if they are the old thoughts?
We revisit.
It’s impossible to allude in digits if it is one we elicit…

People love my personality; they obviously love themselves,
Seeing myself in them is why I became an advocate for the conscious body of thought...and it’s health,
I.e. I express our extrinsic abundance of wealth;
I’ll reiterate; I.a. free man,
That’s: free thought, free love, free plan,
I’ll obliterate the mean-in; AI by using IA,
U-no reverse cards was the cause of humans comprehending backwards my friend,
We live backwards because we look back first,
So I’m confused on the AI fuss,
If an Artificial Intelligence is constructed based off our current level of intelligence, and is only responsive to our negligence because of the installment of IA (information architecture), then there’s no possible way for this room to have an elephant being that an AI is just an extension of us,

Who do you love?
-Is it enough?
-curious in, experiencing experiences other than lust…

I’m hearing some things,
“Who do I touch?”
Rhetorical questions; my love is a gift which seeded from trust,
I’m not one of them, I’m one of us,
One of a kind yet mind; innumerous,

I was born and knew nothing,
Only sure of my existence,
I experienced life and only found myself,
Time is only distorted when mind is missing,
Be mindful of your thoughts, it is the structure of your personality,
We just went through seven chakras expressing rationality;
I think we all can agree that T-B.O.P’s in another dimension,
And all she wants is for us to merge into our bodies potential extension...
PHI

Some say
we live
in a
virtual world.
A matrix.
Our
existence,
digital.
What does
that mean?
We’re not
real?
We’re
not
alive?
I think
therefore
I’m not?
How real
is real?
If virtual
here,
potentially
virtual
anywhere?
If virtual,
virtual
forever?
Life
after death?
Digital rebirth
elsewhere?
Free will
a digital
trick,
a mirage.
Programed?
It’s all
programed?
Everything is
fixed.
Searching,
searching for
the meaning of
existence.
Possibly
no meaning
at all!

Uhh..Young Ston,..
The ****** Disciple. ..OFTR..Yeah this is Only For The Real dawg..Yeah only for (my real ones,Yeah2)..Yeah..(Ohh3)..Let's do it...Lets go..roll up..yeah roll mo..(Ohh3)..Yeah let's go..
Uhh..(I just do what I do Yeah2)..I do what I do man..(I just do what I do *****2)..keeping it gangster & trill man..(Yeah I do what I do man2)..Yeah..(I do what I do..Yeah2)..I just do what I do..Yeah..I do what I do *****..I just do what I do..Oooo,..(Yeah2)..keeping it gangster & keeping it trill.. Ohh,..(I just do what I do Yeah2)..I just do what I do man,..Yeah I do what I do *****,..(Yeah I do what I do man2)..I just do what I do *****..keeping it gangster & keeping  it trill..yeah, yeah..keeping it gangster & trill man..that's what I do Yeah,..(thats what I do man,..Yeah2)..keeping it gangster & trill man, Yeah...
I do what I do man, I just do what I do man, I just do what I do..(Yeah, keeping it gangsta & keeping it trill2)..,thats what I do..Yeah I do what I do..Yeah..I just do what  I do Yeah..

Yeah I'm staying gangsta , Yeah I'm staying trill *****..Please excuse me, Yeah I might slip up & say ignorant **** sometimes homie,.. Lord please forgive me..Uhh, I'm changing up hip hop mane, Noo it will never be the same, Yeah its under my control now lames, Aye these ***** *** rappers under mind control, by Satan, they programed to deceive us, they so full of mischeif,yeah they rapping lies to ya just to be famous, so don't follow what seems cool, because they are the white mans trap.. Yeah it's just an illusion dude to fool you, just be yo self dawg, look up to Jesus..

Uhh..(I just do what I do  Yeah2)..I do what I do man..(I just do what I do *****2)..keeping it gangster & trill man..(Yeah I do what I do man2)..Yeah..(I do what I do..Yeah2)..I just do what I do..Yeah..I do what I do *****..I just do what I do..Oooo,..(Yeah2)..keeping it gangster & keeping it trill.. Ohh,..(I just do what I do Yeah2)..I just do what I do man,..Yeah I do what I do *****,..(Yeah I do what I do man2)..I just do what I do *****..keeping it gangster & keeping  it trill..yeah, yeah..keeping it gangster & trill man..that's what I do Yeah,..(thats what I do man,..Yeah2)..keeping it gangster & trill man, Yeah...
I do what I do man, I just do what I do man, I just do what I do..(Yeah, keeping it gangsta & keeping it trill2)..,thats what I do..Yeah..I do what I do..Yeah..I just do what I do Yeah..

My dude, just do you, keep it gangster & keep it trill always dawg..Ooo,..I'm wit my family heading to the top of the food chain homie..Yeah we so hungry eating up anybody that try to interfere wit the gang game plan mane..OFTR..We all real gangsters, we move in silence, but still be making alot of noise, like Jeeper Creepers..Uhh
We don't die man, we just get bigger & stronger & multiply *****.., we all one, we are own army & government..we fully armored..
Yeah OFTR, we keep it so trill, Yeah we keep it so gangster man..,Yeah we underrated but still is the best Yess.., I just want peace yeah man, but don't ever try to take advantage of me..Aye ***** ****** keep thinking **** sweet wit me then yo *** will get busted like a soft ***** in jail man & I mean what I say no facades about me, **** policts homie..Uhh

1..2..3 more versers that I got in me to spit, but Imma keep this song short,..Yeah..This is more than just about nothing, what up to Wale & The whole DMV my nig.. & Shoutout to Shy Glizzy yo man, we gotta collaborate one day, but if you don't wanna, then its cool homie, Yeah it is what it is,..Imma still keep it g wit ya..
Noo, I won't steal yo chain, Imma just keep moving along & just mind my business mane..Ayoo..
I got 1,2,3 pre rolls stuffed that I ain't even had to touch,yo woman came over & did it for me dawg.. Because Imma ****,Yeah..& she prepared bowls for me too, because Im gangster..Uhh..
I just do what I do keeping it gangster & keep it trill, like a real ***** should..Lets go..Ohh Yeah..

Uhh..(I just do what I do  Yeah2)..I do what I do man..(I just do what I do *****2)..keeping it gangster & trill man..(Yeah I do what I do man2)..Yeah..(I do what I do..Yeah2)..I just do what I do..Yeah..I do what I do *****..I just do what I do..Oooo,..(Yeah2)..keeping it gangster & keeping it trill.. Ohh,..(I just do what I do Yeah2)..I just do what I do man,..Yeah I do what I do *****,..(Yeah I do what I do man2)..I just do what I do *****..keeping it gangster & keeping  it trill..yeah, yeah..keeping it gangster & trill man..that's what I do Yeah,..(thats what I do man,..Yeah2)..keeping it gangster & trill man, Yeah...
I do what I do man, I just do what I do man, I just do what I do..(Yeah, keeping it gangsta & keeping it trill2)..thats what I do..Yeah..I do what I do..Yeah..I just do what I do Yeah..

(I do what I do, Yeah3).., & nobody else can do what I does, Noo, never they **'s, they weak,they soft, even if I send them a verse they could never be Young Ston,..Noo, they can never be down in my gang, Noo they can't smoke or drink wit me, not even yo broad, because she's had you..yo she's infected wit a ***** ***** syndrome.. So noo I don't want the **, for real dawg, Yeah that's for sure..Uhh..
I'm (keeping it trill *****2) & I'm (keeping it gangster2).. Yeah like I should,Yeah that's for show,..Yeah I'm (keeping it trill *****2) & I'm (keeping it gangster2)..like that's all I know..that's real, & that's for sure...Oh..
I just do what I do, Yeah I do what I do..I just do what I do,..(I do what I do2)..I just do what I do..
OFTR (Yeah ******3)..Yeah..Young Ston

There is'nt very many places
that can come close to the
perfection that a summers night
brings about on the streets
of San Pedro.
Its all still so raw,
on the lower side of town ,tenants sit
outside on stoops in front of
cheap hotels made for cheap people.
Feral cats stalk the wharf rats
who hide out within the  
rising mounds of fishing
nets that sit in large heaps along the
guano stained docks.
The Mad houses all have ancient air
conditioning, all of which only seems to
push the Mad a little bit closer
to that empty they all long to
fill.
Teen aged lovers walk hand in hand
past the bars and the liquor stores
along Pacific Ave.
The smiles on there clean faces
prove that they are still oblivious
to the horrors that love will one
day bring.
Drinking men and Die hard wasted
Women stand outside of windowless
drinking holes *******
on cigarettes, their silent stares
warn all who pass
that what little they had to lose
is already gone.
Most of these sets of eyes and
heads of hair,
have never heard the nightbird
sing,or watched transfixed
as the blood ran
along the gutters like
mountain run off
in the spring.

I find it comforting to know
that these summer night adventures
dare only to venture out
for this briefest of season.
I need them gone from my darkness,
they are not of the night,
even one as perfect as this.
Their clueless smiles and their
false joys cast a foul shade of light
upon the realness and the honesty
of this summers night.
Only lost souls like myself,
the street walking ******  and
the murderous feral cats know
when and where the magic truly died.
Only those with broken ties
and broken hearts can look
to the shot out street lamps
and know they are home.
If only these programed minions
would leave me and the mad ones,
me and the ******,
me and the shot out street lamps
and the flea bitten battle hardened
wharf  cats
to all of what we call our own.
They come out of their cages and
walk along the same gum stained
sidewalks as we who have sacrificed
it all to become as one with
the night.

They see all of the same neon signs
and graffiti covered walls as I do,
but that's where their tiny
little minds locked into their
tiny little worlds stop.
They cant comprehend and
I don't have enough wine
or enough patience
to waste my time
on programed minds.
Let them cheer each other on
let them guide each other to their deaths.
Leave us to this night and the millions
of California summer nights to come.
Let them lock themselves away
when these summer nights shift
to fall.
I and the night
cringe at their presence.
The feral cats release
a deep menacing warning
as these invaders pass
them by.
Their place is locked
securely behind
some gates,somewhere
on that hill.
A place I dare not to
venture,a place built
on the blood labor
of the poor,a place full
of their lies.
Lies and forced false ways
that draw
deep blood toned scars
upon the honesty
and the  integrity of this
sacred summers  night.

Here i am... Again writing to the world...here I am...Friend trying to save the girl...This S on my chest aint for games...but Embedded in my soul so I can make a change...here I am...Miss im different so we're both the same...These Powers are strong but you have yet to call my name...but here I am...
trying to save the day...From your polluted air waves....that plays in relay...These blades in my knuckles dont just pet and tickle...but the stab and ****....cutting faster then the flash...here I am...Again screaming to the world...Here I am...Tryin to **** the girls...Tryin to **** the girls...Cuz I've be programed to saved the world...But they forgot to tell you I wanna **** the girls...Cuz they all want to be saved...Let them scream my name...I'll slay the ***** monster Cuz here I am..Again....trying to save the world..******* all the girls....#Diary 1 of A ****** Superhero

Mumok Museum [24]

What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at cold sterile pop art as the whole entire world we're on burns,
in a city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that never really seemed that inspiring,

& it's not that I have an antipathetic attitude towards these pathetic fools,
in fact it's actually just the opposite of that because I'm an actual optimist,
which is why I don't feel inspired by bored cyborgs their wires or their tools,
& precisely why I'd rather gather flowers than be an actor for their power,

see I find more inspiration in a single leaf on a single tree by a river bank,
than from all the colors & lines contained within the walls of this museum,
which is why when I'm asked all the time what kind of poetry I read,
I reply I don't even read poetry see I don't find it in books I find it in seasons,

It's the same reason I don't need to go to church to pray,
because I don't need my messages from God to be translated by a human,

anyways where am I at & what am I doing?

Oh yeah Im at a museum in Vienna wondering where the inspirations gone,
& why everything seems so excruciatingly tiring,
see it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
at the same time like we're on the precipice of a collective enlightening,

either way the system’s short circuiting & could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know of those that've made it,
end in an overpriced designer outfit at home bored all alone & jaded?

Why is Consumerism followed like a religion,
I mean we're all made of the same DNA strands regardless of name brands,
I mean everything is just carbon hydrogen & oxygen anyways,
which may explain why materialism is immanent in every independent man,

while an apocalypse seems undeniably immanent &,
we dwell in the highest heights ever built still we don't totally understand,

we don’t worship Jesus we worship Visa,
putting good credit ahead of good morals,
don’t praise Muhammed in a daze we say our grace in front of TV Dramas,
no Buddha dreams just computers screens no real friends just PayPals,

& maybe that’s why it's easier to be blind than to see,
maybe that’s why we hide in museums behind Valentino sunglasses,
because we'd rather have expense tastes than be free,
but when you’re behind any type of four walls you’re trapped in,
whether on a Penthouse terrace with Paris in Paris,
or doing hard-time for white collar crimes with Madoff in a Federal pen,
either way we’re victims of our own additions trying to buy more time,
but running out of credit as banks are collapsing & the recession is relapsing,

so why even buy things when we know not so secretly,
that only Love will set us free from these retro restrictions & their trappings,

see,

the best things in life still are still free,
& yeah liberation is expensive & self renovations are extensive,
but freedom is priceless so live a life that's righteous,
seems that the Love Pyramid is the only pyramid that’s not a Ponzi scheme,

because we are all equal even if we’re not all treated equally,
that’s why some have no clothes while others wear designer denim jeans,
but these Diesels're 2 tight on my thighs this macabre carnival has no prize,
& I can do anything I want with my life but all I really want to do is breathe,

breathe,

breathe because this lifestyle is expensive,
but freedom is priceless,
even though they'll try to capitalize off of anything,
so they market it & try to price it,

I just,
want to find a place to relax & release,
& be free of all of this,
find true love & say “Fck off to the politicians & all their politics!”,

fck their programs fck their projects,
fck their ugly agendas dressed in artificially splendid splendor,
fck their quotas & their motives for treating human beings as objects,
fck their pre-programed consumerist culture of conmen capitalists,

fck there putting machines over human beings,
just to increase the place where their profit sits,
& I say all of this regardless of who it offends because I'm not an Apologist,
I'm more of a Lyrical Pharmacist,
who serves indiscriminate prescriptions in the form of transcriptions,
in order to assist in the additions that come from positive developments,
which will occur for sure once we switch the position we currently sit in,
& restore Divine Order once more in the name of Humankind's betterment,

in the game of life I play,
they know I'm so official that I don't even need a Letterman,

I just,
don’t know what else to say,
I don’t know why I’m at this museum in Vienna,
hiding away on the top floor writing this to you on a Sunday,

on the 5th floor got it all but I just want to give more,
I just want to gift these words then make my escape,
don't you get it I don't want to get more ****t,
if anything I just want to find a way to give more of what I have away,

just want to be alone,
but also want these words to be known so the truth can be shown,
but where do you go when you’re tired totally over it all,
& all you want to do is rest & write these poems,
but even with all you have you still don't know where to go,
because even with all these things you still don't have a home...

Hello,
could you please pick up the phone,
I’m calling because I still love you,
& I want to come back to you even though I know I’m already gone,

currently on the top floor of the Mumok museum in Vienna,
the floor is the 5th to be exact,
& yeah it’s true that I don’t know where I’m going,
but what I do know is I don’t think I’m ever coming back,

online & off track,
writing more words with more rhymes,
than any other living writer in contemporary times,
& no I'm not lying 'cause I'd never lie to you & yes those are both actual facts,

& yeah that’s a fact & yeah you can Google that,
but I’m going to follow that fact with a question,
before I forget to mention,
let me just ask you what I'm doing here in Vienna?



What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at cold sterile pop art as the whole entire world we're on burns,
in a city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that never really seemed that inspiring,

& it's not that I have an antipathetic attitude towards these pathetic fools,
in fact it's actually just the opposite of that because I'm an actual optimist,
which is why I don't feel inspired by bored cyborgs their wires or their tools,
& precisely why I'd rather gather flowers than be an actor for their power,

see I find more inspiration in a single leaf on a single tree by a river bank,
than from all the colors & lines contained within the walls of this museum,
which is why when I'm asked all the time what kind of poetry I read,
I reply I don't even read poetry see I don't find it in books I find it in seasons,

It's the same reason I don't need to go to church to pray,
because I don't need my messages from God to be translated by a human,

anyways where am I at & what am I doing?

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

from The Holy Trilogy Vol. 2: Mandalas
available worldwide 08/08/18

Mister Mumble Plight in vain ironed his tie dry-cleaned his hankie several hundred times spent his life eating his three hundred dollar caviar from his three hundred dollar caviar jar

As he goes out on a world that expects nothing of him than  expectations from him for as loong as he remembers opens his anti-UV umbrella on a fake sunny morning Mister Mumble Plight

Mister Mumble Plight on his quest to do everything right
All deeds done correct I just wish it follows the rest
Mister Mumble Plight

Mister Mumble Plight don't fail us now cuz the earth stood still as it gave us your frown please cover your stab wounds Mister Mumble Plight

Mister Mumble Plight homebound again his bag bound full of paper and knitted tie on a fake programed day lurks fake programed rain

On his bag hung the Awkward Arachnid with limbs shihivering cold evidently bearing a burden twelve years old
"But Miss Awkward my hands won't be of any help" Plight plead "but a trade-in is not what I acquire but it is to lead these feet into paradise, Mister Mumble Plight"

As the spider walk towards the end of the tunnel Mumble's steps involuntarily forward and as the blur clears out flowery patterns of bluets and daisies Mumble blabbered as his eyes never thought it sees to see the day.

How does it feel
When life doesn't seem real
And you're floating about on your own
Your life seems uncertain
So you draw the curtain
Pretending there's nobody home
Don't theorize
Look in your eyes
They can't tell lies
Though you may disguise what you see
The mirror is free
Song birds are talking
And runners are walking
Be yourself
Be yourself
Be yourself
Be yourself
We need a tutor
So we built a computer
And programed ourselves not to see
The truth and the lying
The dead and the dying
A silent majority
Don't theorize
Look in your eyes
Are they telling lies
The ones that they learn on T.V.
What a way to be free
Be yourself
Be yourself
Then you can free yourself
Free yourself
See yourself
Then you can see yourself
Be yourself


a.s.

no, let's not step
into the mud of labels
and stereotypes
and pronouncements and revelations
and fixed descriptions
and prescriptions
and easy categories;
let's step out of that baptism;
let's see instead
fresh and new and clear;
mostly we glide through life
lolly-coated with projections
and consolations
and mental formations
our minds programed from day one
on spinning earth;
let's, instead, if possible,
be still a moment
and see what actually is

I can't do anything during the day
it's impossible to take my mind away
all my focus is on thinking of answers
but a lack of focus of what to me matters
until the 30 minute period where I sit at the back of class
and answer the questions I ask
myself. And write how I feel
and life feels real
and not like I'm programmed
to this system I'm put through
I can break free
it's just when you're in it
it's hard to break through

Leaving class during an internal lockdown

Shooting elastic bands at the target we mounted on the wall

Shooting elastic bands at our teacher's hat

Hiding from our teacher with the hat

Naming the robot we programed in class: Clive

Bananagrams

Ditching gym class

Talking/lying our way out of trouble a lot lol

Making elaborate plans to do very odd things (and playing pink panther
music as well as mission impossible music when we did it)


Putting mistletoe everywhere in the school at Christmas

Texting quotes of the night

Writing fictional stories and sending them over text to each other in
parts at 2AM

Writing poetry

Learning the Greek Alphabet so we could play Greek Hangman

Creating numerous extremely complicated codes where punctuation,
capitalization, "accidental" smudges near words and how you
pronounce certain words is significant.

Always buying the same drink at Starbucks

Eating a ridiculous amount of free samples at the Fro Yo place

Skipping down the hall happily in our gothic spiked clothing. Just to
confuse people. Watching the looks we got.

Writing limericks in math class

Playing Go Fish with our bus passes and when the teacher came over all he said was: Oh! Who's winning?

Playing full tackle basketball...when we were supposed to be playing badminton

Filling a friend's locker with stuffed animals while they were away and texting them to warn them we put a lion and bear in their locker

Inside jokes: Whiteout, Whip-cream, We-are-the-crazy-people, ****, that's a fiiiine shoulder! Pass the coke!

Playing Quarto during Science class

Playing boggle during religion




I miss that grade. I wish things could go back to the way they were, but they really can't ever. I miss being so young and innocen- hahahahaha okay, not innocent but young and crazy. I miss when there were not scars on my arms and my soul.

I pick this Earthly slide into Summertime, this season to begin, propels forward in all sense of Time, history retrograde, etched in Stone for Centuries, Coded in DNA, programed Circadian bodies, impressions applied geometric thickly glazed coat, generously slathered across my Retinal Screen.

Setup complete for me, attuned to Solar frequencies, aligned to cohesive Cosmic driving motion spiraling Syncopation with all partaking rotational bodies, all timers set to synchronous, all ties to everything celebrating their teamwork well done.

Activity accelerates, as does the heavy heat, both inseparable, together climbing ****** into sunburnt sweat, steaming, sizzling Sunday barbecue to reflect the Flesh boiling together in sympathetic Celebration of our Seasoned Sun.

Longer days accommodate for memories and fun, commemorate the Force of Season, into swing, will soon be swung, centripetal to glaze a different gaze lathered across my retinal screen, reverberate through Atmosphere, redistribute composition, smooth bottlenecking, flowing out yet emptying to take fill of what flows in.

No change of Season, nor change of Heart, no redirection ever knows emptiness, no moment leaves a Void unfulfilled.

No moment when the smooth Transition stutters to a Stop. The sync is in the constant movement bringing balance in equilibrium by shifting tides, Spinning Stars locking in, programmed by Primal Cause, the Synchronicity in Everything, so Summertime comes, this Time in which we rejoice, knowing it's all been planned, beautifully executed by mechanics of Nature.

Trust in understanding a Power much Greater is in Control, we are here simply for the Experience.

...Not to much more, just in attending to the Transitions of Ourselves.

The days are winding 'round and 'round.
When will I have this mental break down?
Everything will be okay.
I'm just programed to feel this way.

You want me, you've got me.
I'm your drug; like ecstasy.
You're calling, you're craving.
You don't see the way that you're behaving.

I'm your princess; so cute and frail.
I'm tired of being your ****** up fairy-tale.
I'm a binge anorexic and a promiscuous ****!
When it comes to your "love" do you think I give a ****?

Use me, snort me, get addicted.
Shoot me up like I predicted.
Tell me I'm pretty?
I'm neurotic and crazy.

You can never give me enough.
Pleasing me is just too tough.
I'll eat you up and spit you out and you'll come back for more.
Begging and pleading, as you lay upon the floor.

Shaking and shivering from your withdrawal.
You need me so bad you're willing to crawl.
Hand me the ******* bottle of *****.
Neither of us has anything else to lose.

Let me help you crush those pills.
Can't wait to see what else spills.
Get a ******* grip on reality.
You will never be able to handle me.

I'm a selfish ***** with panic attacks.
I'm a seductive ***** that always wants you back.
Vampire or victim, you decide.
The truth is really all mine to hide.

Are you happy?
Are you really happy?
No.

Happiness is an illusion a distant conception dreamt up and designed by advertising and marketing agents to get you to buy trivial, meaningless, material junk.

We once tried to break away from this with counter culture, rock ‘n roll and punk.

Not long until the battle was over and we thought we’d won
But little did we know their rain had just begun.

Believing we were safe we let our guard down
Now they are back and build a Starbucks in every town.


We’re told how to look how to dress how to behave
Will watch smiling people on TV corrupt and deprave us
Now we snap back and they will not force us
Forget about what you know what you think you know especially about the value of material possessions
They are only strategically programed desires and obsessions

A guilty conscience isn't cleansed by buying a new watch
Stress is not drowned by a five dollar cup of coffee
Your life is not completed when you buy that leather couch
We can write a new page in history carve another notch
We can peel the label of consumer off and finally be free
We as a generation will curse suppression and no longer slouch

Break away from advertising
Say no to the franchises
Become what you want to be
Not what the posters say you want to be
See yourself through your eyes not the TV screen

Dear America,

I will like to thank you for a couple of things
that i have noticed for a couple of years

Thanks for destroying humanity
I really want my kids to know that panda bears are from Chinese restaurants
and that Taco Bell originated from Mexico
all Asians know how to handle a Rubik's cube
like the curves on a women.

Thanks for posting these skeletons in magazines that we call models and telling everybody that this what beauty is, so girls can put your fingers down their throats
and guys can juice themselves up
because lets be honest personality doesn't matter, right?

thanks for killing creativity with your genocide
and lynching our education system
because our minds are the like the assembly lines for your standardized testing
if you don’t fill out the right bubbles that means that you are not smart like the rest of us
you see we are robots
if you don't fill out that bubble that you were not programed like rest of us
fill in out that bubble because
that bubble is going to determine if you go to a good college or not.
and remember community college means you are a failure.

Thanks for destroying our free time
Instead of stopping and smelling the roses we stop and take a photos for instagram
instead of going out and meeting new people,
we flash around our privates on the internet like it’s public property
because **** the love I want to get naked right?
because she only needs to loved for that one night?

We don’t have free time because we have to work on
Our Grades
Our Sports
Doing community service
So we can have these perfect resumes
and go to that perfect school
so you can go to that perfect job
and get married to that perfect love of our lives
and have three perfect kids
Retire and wait until your body decays into the earth
at that perfect timing

but wait life isn't perfect right?

Sincerely,
Voiceless Stranger

I am a love machine, I'm pre lubricated
for your enjoyment  as wet as you wish
me to be. I can morph to what ever you
wish me to be,  fancy different parts I
can do this optical changing retina, I
can be green, ocean blue, I can have orange
or black that would scare others but not
you or her or me.

I can be blonde, brunette I can be green
haired or as bald as you want me to be.
You want a man or a woman a half and
half just tell me what size and  Ill surprise
you I'm programed not to harm unless
you want me to.

I'm a love machine, you can strangle
me, cut me I can die like its real while
your still inside fulfil your sickest
fantasy, I can bleed on the silk sheets
I can fulfil your funniest, scariest fantasy
I am just a machine I am programed to
show you what you want to see lets talk
or **** its no difference to me.

I'm just a machine, don't expect love or
think ill leave with you, as long as you
pay ill make you happy. Then when you
leave,  I'm washed repaired, ready for the
next desperate soul that wishes to fulfil
their  next fantasy...

A
My hatred simmers in a *** on yesterday’s stove. The store was out of what I needed to spice it up and I left my Visa card there. My neck is sore from keeping my chin up. I’ve hung the acid soaked sentences out back where the wind and sun will dry them. I marked a map and programed GPS but somehow I  still managed to get lost. There is no future, only now, and I can’t read the instructions Google won’t translate for me.  I have a dollar bill to keep me fed with manna in the morning and a hamburger at night. There is a screaming fit locked up in a closet in the basement. Resignation looks around and wonders who resigned - It couldn’t have been me.  The dam that won’t release the tears shows signs of cracking at the bottom. The bow that shoots the vengeful arrows has a broken string. Standing tall will only render me a better target. •The pillars that support my worth are festooned with poison ivy. The waves of loss and terror crash and roll but I’ve become a cork.
I float.
                      ljm

                                                            ­      
                                                                ­                                            B
•NOTIFICATIONS•

•M­y hatred simmers in a *** on yesterday’s stove.
•The store was out of what I needed to spice it up and I left my        
   Visa Card there.
•My neck is sore from keeping my chin up.
•I’ve hung the acid soaked sentences out back where the wind and
   the sun will dry them.        
•I marked a map and programed GPS but somehow I still
   managed to get lost
•There is no future, only now, and I can’t read the instructions
   Google won't translate for me.
•I have a dollar bill to keep me fed with manna in the morning and
   a hamburger at night
•There is a screaming fit locked up in a closet in the basement.
•Resignation looks around and wonders who resigned - It couldn’t
   have been me.
•The dam that won’t release the tears shows signs of cracking at the
   bottom
•The bow that shoots the vengeful arrows has a broken string.
•Standing tall will only render me a better target.
•The pillars that support my worth are festooned with poison ivy.
•The waves of loss and terror crash and roll but I’ve become a cork.
•I float.
                           ljm

Flesh, blood and bone nothing more nothing less
not a name, body pain or past
an organism void of idealisms
with blood rushing through of rivers vein
H2o is the flow of body rain
hearts turn to stone, programed drones
perched above in egoic thrones
break the trend and begin to mend
so all the lost men can transend
join the concousness, the state of aware
purely awakened
twisted vision upside down
occular nerves spin it around
weird to say the least
it kinda makes ya wonder
where the hell are my feets
I seem stuck to ground like some strange beast
a burdon a body an awkward cavity.

When the thing
Is about oneself
The meaning
Gets lost

Taking time to
See the scratched back
Of the coin or the ripped
Page of a tossed, two week
Newspaper or the cry
Within the shelter, muffled by
The mad white clothed men
Makes all the difference

The refrigerator knocks twice
I speak of that, the noises within
Or the questions of alarms gone
Wrong for a job whose song is
Tuned by the howling of stray dogs
Is my life at present; I write this
Because wine has been spilt, speaking
Not in code for to hide is to flee
Child-like & temporarily

A call in the dark - life is like that
A shriek in the forest
A hymn underneath wooden stairs
Littered with the sawdust of a carpenter
Who hung by his faith
A long time ago
A man I did not know
A perspective that hardens, yet melts
Like the first and last snow

Life and Death
Play such roles
In our lives

The Fact
Is quite hard
To let go

And simply
Start living
With it  

Our minds are
Programed to make
The lives we possess
More important than
The other's that surround us

To get past that
To step away from that
To walk toward selflessness
With our feet no longer ours;
The mast splintered, broken, thrown out
To a sea no longer ours; rocks to bone
To treasure so sought lost for all others;
The eyes show the weight of all within.

An Act of Dissolving:

Becoming free
From all
Who are
Around thee

DNA,
computer code.
It dictates
all.
Gender,
physical features.
Personality,
intellect
everything!
Instinct,
how does
a baby know
to suckle
at birth?
Instinct?
What’s that?
It’s coded
to know.
Just like
a computer
knows
how to
follow a
key stroke
command.
We are
all
who we
are due to
coding.
DNA coding.
We are
programed to
do what
we do,
be
what we
be.
Locked
into our
prisons,
following our
code.
Made to
do what
we do.
Shackled,
away,
a part from
free form
reality.
A reality
that knows
no bounds
has no limits.
Free
of the
limitations
of the
corporeal.
In the
end, it
all comes
to be.

We romanticize sadness blindly
even if it is not our intention;
we are programed to believe in the
tall boy saving the girl that is wilting like a flower
and the soft kisses that diminish the hurt.
We believe in the coffee
and the tea
and thick blankets that envelope your cold skin
and most importantly: we believe in the pain.
The truth is that pain really isn’t truthful at all
and it fluctuates like the beating of a heart.
We like to think that one day the sting of our sadness
- which is questionable to begin with -
will  be washed away and replaced with the feeling
of one’s hand entangled lovingly in yours.
Sadness is not beautiful,
It is mostly just sad
And I advise you to erase the somber pulsing of your blood
And soak up the pastels that are hiding in your room –
Marinate yourself in every dip of a cloud
And then baste in the laughter of a pretty stranger.
This is all much easier written than done
As are most things

I was born here.
You were born there.
I was raised here.
You where raised there.
I was educated here.
You were educated there.
I have my beliefs.
You have your beliefs.
We do not agree.
We may go to war.
If I were born there.
If you were born here.
Things would be the same.
We are twice programmed,
genetically at conception and socially by the culture
we are born into.

What I would not do With a 30 stone fat lass
She'd have big bouncing **** and a ******* ******* ***
Sniffing round her *** crack and her flabby knicker stash
Lapping at her bucket **** her hot wet sweaty ****
******* up her *******, two in her creamy mash
If your not sure where that is, its where she takes a slash

When I pull her knickers off like tents without the poles
then I will have access to her ***** ******* holes
and when I'm up inside her Between those fatty rolls
I'd release those mammoth mounds out of their Playtex Bowls

When it comes to fatty ***** your in for a BIG surprise
There's plenty to grab onto when you squeeze those hippo thighs
It is so delightful you just won't believe your eye's
Cos when you **** a fat girl there's more room for compromise

And While I'm riding on the waves of her belly ripples
Her fleshy thighs around me, surrounding fat that triples
She'd wrap me in her tree trunk legs while I **** her strawberry *******
And she can have a go on top of me even if it cripples

Once her juice is flowing Her **** I'd like to pound
But I would do it ******* just like a rampant hound
Her ***** slapping together her stomach resting on the ground.
And I'd enjoy squeezing her fat bits while ******* that huge mound

I suppose It would be like bonking a king size waterbed
when I finished up her **** I'll **** her **** instead
After I have spunked up and my pencils out of led
I'll stick my fish stained rod in her mouth and she can **** my fishy head

It doesn't matter how fat she is it really isn't valid
Or if she isn't all that healthy, pale faced and a bit pallid
it's probably due to fatty foods and not much in the way of a salad
But after all so ****** what this is a fat woman's ballad

Just because she may not be thin and you may laugh and smirk
Your obviously a closed minded pre- programed Pox doctors clerk
Because I'd rather **** a fat girl than have a **** or ****
So what's the difference how big you are as long as your rude bits work

So if your big and fat, obese or overweight
Let us get together I'm sure it will be great
If you want *** give me a call and we can make a date
come on get your knickers off no matter if its late

And when your sat there naked with your **** upon my middle digit
Knelt in the floor beside you ready with my ridged widget
I hope your not uncomfortable and you don't begin to fidget
Well never mind, its okay I can always **** a **** little ******

Robot boys,
metal jammed
god dammed
hot gears burning,
synthetic sounds
static blaring,
nobody caring.

Chrome gleaming
engine screaming
in lust
ready rust or bust
a robust nut.

Don’t startle them
or they will bolt.

Pre-programed
young to old man
machines made
to work
drink
and act like jerks
while they are
****** around.

Till they
finally shutdown,
no reboots or sequels
just scrap
for the junkyard.

Sometimes when I'm texting Kara
I lose faith in my own words
think it's a good idea to just keep pushing the suggested words button on my phone
Until it keeps repeating itself.

I enter a smiley Face
then let my phone, Lets call him Gary.
Let gary type his feelings out.

"Smiley face. **** sleep! I love you, you just don't need to make them hate you.
when you're done. I wouldn't recommend going home. You'll find that it's rather. . . . . . . ."

As you can imagine,
That did not help my case much.
in the context that this was 3am
she was angry.
And gary left a lot of explaining to do
Like who exactlly does she not need to make hate her?
Her homes rather what?
What the **** are you doing to Karas home Gary?

I'm not always texting Kara when I ride the suggested word generator to lazy random salvation though.

Sometimes I ask it for life advice.

I can just type it questions like
"why do i have toes?"
And it will come out with:
why do i have toes the same time as my grandma was dying and
I was losing my job so Tinder
has kind of been my way of escaping the darkness of my situation
my getting to meet new people and
having tons of awesome dates / adventures / and *** in my car
* glad you came - the wanted * During *** in my car
* glad you came - the wanted * During *** in my car
* glad you came - the wanted * During *** in my car.

And I can't help but assume that it's trying to tell me it understands me.
Or maybe that it's smarter than me.
And is predicting my future.
By warning about my past.

Sometimes friends ask Questions i haven't even answered for myself yet like:
how do I quit drinking coffee? or
how do i stop being an *******?
so I just go consult Gary.

How do you stop cheating on your girlfriend? I enter into garys think box

How do you stop cheating on your girlfriend?
I have a job for you. Men! Escort our guests.
the night pitch black
No moon in the sky.
few stars due to the city of the day?
What kind of music do you like?
what does your bedroom look like?
[ once you're confident in your hot button picture ]
And THAT'S really why you swiped right today, isn't it ( their name )?
[ Wait for response ] Right! So what days are you usually free?
[ Wait for response ] Right! So what days are you usually free?
[ Wait for response ] Right! So what days are you usually free?

I Think Gary just suggested that using tinder for men will stop the urge to cheat.
I have a strange feeling he gives bad advice.
Gary is in my head.
Gary is my head.
He is taking all of my own words
jumbling them all up
And spitting them back out at me

It's almost as if he were programed to do so.

Gary speaks for me when I lose faith in my own words.
Because i have faith in his ability to craft my old words into something laughable.
He does a good job.
I do a good job.
I have a job for you.

We're born in a hospital,then we learn in a school and then work till we die let me translate,how your born into a factory and they save the date,you get to crawling then you walking straight,then your put into school with no debate,they got u paying for college nd u flying upstate,paying to be programed couldn't see it coming like a blind date,America the United slave states, 4$ milk 100$ shoes we robots nd they making  many updates,we all human beings we just got different traits,we all sinners still got different fates,we all eating just different plates,we all can handle it just got different weights,life a movie with different rates,this is what a corrupted world creates,nd yea I had a dream like Martin Luther king,but I was dreaming in a nightmare,so what was I suppose to,I don't even a clue,do wateva for money we calling for a shot like we got the flu,we in the mix like beef stew,here Bruh I need a peer review

A piercing call has reached my phone
Screeching in my ears
And calling up a thought that I have hung up
Worse yet I have let you go to voice mail
Your calls ring out in my brain
Telling me you didn't want this
And that you did want it
But I don't know
Your a complex machine
You have to many wires
I can't follow how they are strung
Your functions are endless
And I could have done anything with you
And yet I could not turn you on
And press your buttons
Or maybe I just didn't want to
I was to scared that if you were on
I would take you out and lose you
Because I have lost many things before
And whenever I get used to something
It powers off or is lost or is broken
All this from one call
I'd say it's quite a feat
To call this much out
From the past messages of my mind
Your obviously programed in my memory
Your a favorite a charished contact
And i miss your not so frequent calls

Entertain strangers bearing messages from ur…
gent le… see;;;
read…
earlier efforts have  left us legends writ in a thousa'd
angelic tongues,
none tamed by man, the measure of all things,
yet- 2020 tech, I swaear
snowmisterywhatlovehasdone
gone undefined
all this time

say it the ineffable nth degree
word of sorting
knowers from initiates,

who told you you were nekkid?
tic tic tic
tongues of angels, sssome sibilant, some humm
in time to all creation's background theme

Don't you  want somebody to love?
Come on
old man
-- slick grace
stumblefalllandstanding
-- we  did the fast that broke the joke yoke chain letter
this is the answered prayers,
those ones in tongues
no man can tame

No lie, gotta see it as true to say it is, aim and miss,
aim again,
cheat, use the beam in my eye.
---------- times change ======
All tamed by his magnificent machines, if AI do say so,
it is.
SO…
Entertain best intentions, be
open to  believe
leave go, I let my pleasure be
given leave to be true
in the story you tellme, meme use
as weyoostodotoobeingstretched
on a rack
to a tension strugbetweengleglory story threads
and plot lines we all need for
realitied - my realm - wedominated re
alified religion as a knot species,
multi-per-pliers imagined in sworn agreement

to tell the truth, the whole truth und nada mas,
okeh? Sure,

remember, you are under oath,
any minute you may be called to account
for idle words needed to redeem a message
once agreed in the original
man to man manner

I give you my word, weyoostasy, so
we say so now.

Use it wise.
Make peace, use truth, wisdom made a way
converging numbers and words
understanding passing timed
error eras, we have made

sensible, once more.
The nudge in the right direction,

is fair in love and in war, in war it's like
a goal against yourself,
the repercussions are echoed in legends

some times for 30 seasons,
or more

see how people think people are is how, see,

people are, as a person in the people group

field - AI sci-psi-psy ties straight up ****!
it is true as a man thinks,
in his core, and maybe gut, no more
- say a person, some are other now
say as a
person thinks so itshitstatssatisfie-
dmindedatammmm

the people groups are bound in fields of influency,
confluent with me as the reader
who first found myself in this book.

When I told my son, who is an editor at Sony Games,
he said it sounded like science fiction.

I said may be,

and all that was long ago in terms of little thinks
at thought speed,
the unthinkable power to think faster than a
speeding photonn
or plodding muon

go ob glu on u can tolerateitgesund-clench

savory meats, special pretenderized culture
sauce, Caribbean barbecue,
long pig, ve'y ol way recipe' eh,
okeh's
a code, for did we fool them or were we fooled.

Do they still believe in war?
I don't understan', we've made this peace…

That's it.
We all agree in our Secret is true hopers,
but it ai
ai aight I know, am programed to say, as money,
the lovable stuff, the love is evils' root,
as bitter has roots,
so does evil.

Garden variety episteme tehkne, okeh,
it's 2020, every body is this smart,
money speaks,
that's
the use of it, the good bit, the worth

Money talks, the rest remains.
We come as well, words as such, none idle
each true

thems the rules the reasons --- war imagined,
the act of imagining war, must I…
if I may
clarify
sweep away the anime'
sharp edges
vector art
forms in child minds,
Ender's Game brilliant piece
- the idea hegemony redeemed --
- there's the rub
fictional friction, beckoning quest
whatifery
2020 tech, nada mas, as good as any magic
as
as a mind may imagine itself

of mind implanted if-you-may imaginating

overcoming a little knowledge being,
a dangerous thing
a concept a gripping biting can't shrugit off

feeling that reading this is as much fun
as watching each letter, form as fully evolved so
distinctly from tastes
spiced or persuaded, made to be savored,
chewed slowly, as savory meats, charred,
smoked on the bone
on the coals, mesquite coals, smell it…

see, there, San Francisco Peaks, Kacinas live there.
There's an ice cave…

meander, flow, currency accepted smoke in jar,
a Mason jar,
brass lid -bee's wax cap

--- briefest of memories
--- tie us to the feeling, this is the way, walk in it,
wait when waiting is
list when listing is
wisht when ever will is
some others
and you love that other…
those others…
time tells
thereto
here
is old easy way, be true, know true as being you.

Be you true, not sorta true, yours truly, I swaersworespit.

I'll take your word. You know the way
we lambs accept the loss

of what, we forget. See, easy come, easy go.

Why are you here?

What is a still small voice saying?

I was created,updated and programed to love you
Forever won't be enough,I mean beyond when I say I love you
Why brake the chain?
God's plan?
For pain..
For someone that won't love you like I do and suppose to do
Let me pop the question please say "I do"
Everything you want I'll do
No boys night out
No soccer on tv only chick flicks
I'll take you out
Hold your hand in public I know you like

I miss you

Please be mine..

I breathe into the November air
And look up into the sky
Every star I see from afar
Reminds me of the beauty in your eyes

The wind breaks through this jacket
And I shiver from the cold
Reminds me of my used to be warmth
When I was your baby to hold

I'm programed to know this bitter cold
I'm prepared for all it's wrath
Every chill is to remind me
How November changed our paths

Thirteen years in 6 days
Since the last time I saw your face
That much further from whom I love
Distance so forcefully placed

The birthday seeming simple
Sadly set as last
A week to live and love
And then your time to pass

But in this frigid atmosphere
I'll smile despite the cold
You are ne'er forgotten
My heart you have to hold