as I squint my eyes to the sun
the virile rays that run
straight through my eyes leaving me stun
still no harm done

the kaleidoscopic memories start to run
pouring through my eyes,  so much we had fun
played back , threw laughter while we punned
damage done

the agonizing feeling that still runs
all those elated times when I should have sung
the lyrics , the melody of my heart's feeling
and them unspoken words
indeed hath left me undone..

without you im in an indescribable state..
crumbling inside my heart has started to dilapidate..
the hole in my chest is an abyss
before i perish give me a goodbye kiss....

I was told if I ate worms,
I could fly.
Ever since, I've stepped over sun-baked sidewalk worms.
I recall eating an orchard apple from the ground.
That didn't end well.
Rockwell suggested frying them.
Hamlet punned about worms travelling through a King.
Don't be called a worm.
Don't worm your way in,
You'll likely find a hook.
I'm forever grounded.
The worm hasn't turned.

i over-worded my description of the first night
of winter, i did,
i took too much pet peeves in frank o'hara style,
conversation i perhaps wish i had,
i was aiming for an example of imagism,
like the origins of movies, silent cinema
imagism is best described by silent cinema,
images don't speak, you have to speak for them,
the whole venture into the first signs of frost
got me tangoing or foxtrotting muddled with me
feet that translated for the tongue to be akin,
i should be repentant for it, and i am, yours truly,
all i wanted to write was the extract
i was trying to work on on foot -

at first i noticed the frost
and served up simile upon simile
if not metaphor in the vein of consent
to exclude any association with metaphor,
or as i might collectivise such dissection
of poetics: neither, cliché upon cliché,
the sparkling diamond sawdust,
the speckle of frozen tears,
hushed stardust of entered atmosphere...
but then i looked keenly at the frost,
on cement and on iron of car bonnets
and roofs... the stars not numerous enough
to be compared with,
and after much deliberation it dawned on me;
the frost appeared as if paparazzi epileptics,
or like a thousand photograph camera flashes
in a stadium of staged pop music...
along the linear tread of my feet the frost
change kaleidoscopic like that, like red carpet concentration
of the desired object for newspaper print CELEBRITY,
like a stadium where something memorable
must happen in order to ignite the need
for flash photography: yes, the frost appeared like that,
the frost appeared like that tonight,
and the stars were set free in revelatory constellations
where once the constellation πηγασος, where once
it too gleamed

  still too much, i think, if i'm going to be an imagist
  there's a further need for a 3rd revision:

  frost like paparazzi flash photography
  appearing on sheen of metal alloy.

there, that's it.

but of course tonight, and in hope of not over-wording...
with first night of winter where frost and clear sky,
find upon the second night the incubator of the sky
being overcast, and with the temperatures warmer
from the skyline of skeletal constellations missing,
snow falling:

              with first frost one night,
              expect snow the second night.

i love winters in england because there's this smoky scent
about them, burning cinnamon, and it reminds me
of home, of the child that left home
in order to become part of the "grand" multi-cultural
experiment, where multi-cultural evidence is apparent,
esp. in questionnaires regarding a necessity to pour
ethnicity into questionnaires:

white british, white caribbean (pirate), white some other,
republican irish, volatile irish, absinthe on fire swiss,
black british, flemish red indian beetroot, ginger or scottish,
other, some other, many others, punned origins, or just
simply etc.

but the cold of it... the multi-cultural capital with about 200
tongues that's london? i'd see more smiles in a graveyard,
more adults in a debility congregation,
more of anything anywhere elsewhere, it's absolutely horrid,
i have to warn myself in order to say: more warmth in
you now, than ever, and not elsewhere esp. outside.

******, already over-worded - one last line about the meagre
snow that fell today...
not meagre enough like an inverse ostrich though,
under a street lamp, head turned into the abyss of night,
watching the prickly snowflakes fall
as if a star trek canvas, slowly but assuredly
with head angled to a crow perching hunchback reverse,
there propped, propped like that,
watching gentle snow fall as if alluding to me:
a step cosier to being closer to the moon.

i have these little movements in my hand

which i don’t know why they are there, it could be my past

catching up with mr, i wish they will go

you see as i spreat my fingers  out

seroquel shows you how my fingers move slowly and weirdly

i used o grab kids and i feel the movements were caused by that, you see it’s the guilt from doing that

i say i shouldn’t have done that,oh no

you see the movements are abnormal from a sudden moment in a dream, like you being punned down off a ladder

or being knocked off a bridge

or simply being punched by someone in a dream

like last night i dreamt i was given a bag of syringes

too dangerous to pick up

and i felt every syringe pricking into my body

yeah, it pointed into me, i wish it’ll go away

the movements could have been coming from the fact i liked feeling my body

waiting for an itch, I AM NOY GAY OR HOMOSEXUAL

you see instead of liking fighting my parents

i tried to say i hated it by feeling my body

i hated other people feeling me

i say, that if you have a *****, you a boy or man, so obvious

i don’t want to be treated like a little girlie

i think it could be my hand puppets like a bird and crocodile

and grub and possum like other young dudes use weird hand signals

Auspices approach in expectant ranks,
-one long and a short and another long…
duty to the mystery
madness as a practice
in living asif it all means this,
portents prodigious, unnatural value
thinker tremors
wave worm vision
sudden jolt along the need
to stretch…
you needn't have read Dune to know
the worth of the spice is the secret kept pure
sit up straight and see Earth
from Saturn, Nineties Science
are you in bound or out bound,

rules when push comes
to shove, that's life,
that's not war
that's the world reminding us,

we all live
on Sagan's pale blue dot, all
we ever could know has been known there,

right now…
as we feel the stretch, another day

tectonic tremors
speak along faults,
as when insanity threatens the weary,

worn down secrecy, thinned
with seers seeing
through it
for drugs
exercising sooths held true
by signs,
ai
made sacred the best
of all providence,
have a holy party become
with your flock, won, rustled
taken from the weaker near bower
in truth by kindness and inclusion, worth
a wink and a nod, no hug, too soon
criteria mystery discorporeal
proven approved
by joy, and fellowship,
under the grace that replaced the laws
of exclusion due
to impurities,
- Februarial initial experience
all washed out
with contemplation,
mandate jack brakes,
slow down loudly swoon
sense less so soon lost
in the first moon
after solstice, celebrate our weform

scourge the child's eyes, show rights
use
to bring order
from chaos, right used
preposition superstitions
by agreements traded
between kings and priests, retying rebels
to right use the sword asserves the truth as told, using

auspices
as certain as
the number
of doves,

seen
by children when
the offering is made, how many say seen
and accepted, ah, verily the feathered rats

all rise
to the bell, do tell, the bells

I counsel you
to buy
from me gold refined
in the fire, so you can become rich;
and white clothes
to wear, so you can cover
your shameful nakedness; and salve
to put
on your eyes, so you can see.

The Holy teller told you, so, you do.
Think those three goods you might be wise
to buy… price
of a minute
to stop and think

Grok
the message
from Michael
in the season, Ides
of February,
eberlution abolishing
bullshat sacred values,

too sacred
for the unlettered
to think
in fetters.
-- Set'em loose, we cheer

Child weigh the reason
for your faith, ah
an old man showed me where the Bible says,

Isaiah still says
to any using such a mind as hears
logically all we are doing is being alive, each once,

kind like,
we are breathing
on a bit
of ever, once,
all at once
in a breathe
and out a breath
we form, deep breathed, once more,
da'ath towb ra' the fruit
for finders feeling free
finding meaning
the way a vaulter times a leap…

Fosbury flopping
through an era evolving,
as we all bear the worth
of knowing, now,
some how
everything is more usefully known,
than
at any former phase
in time,

real time, instants
in the middle, meantime,
as we live and breathe, and
make our living,

being spirit,
if in truth, set
to loose chaos,
to stir

up the mud
at the bottom
of it all, deep mind augmented
grok the planetary mind,
from Saturn, next,
if you happen to remember,
Saturnalia season, mind you recall, how old

the idea
of seeing here
    from there, has been
thoroughly imaged and stored,
we all have seen it done
and we all have
done
in context,
many times, seen
each not the same,
never, always
after our
ever expands, this we say,
that's the shaman's vision plain,
wheels in wheels and ignorances forgiven, as if

ungotten, beatings never happened, bruises
recalled can be seen
to mean nothing ever after…

good, breathes and feels the worth

in being reminded
letting letters hold living minds, keyword indexing,
right inclusion fusion,
dexterously imaginably
sinister function
allows a clap alone rights to trial,
uses fail, koans on koans agree we see
we urge expulsive fibermental urgency need
thinking with a friend no longer mortal, in no sense,
in a breath of pure chance re co knowing we do
in comes the good wind out goes the used wind

know spiritual means
for making sense, breathe,
know inspiration, as inspiration and respire
to conspire
with me
in our next moment
of silence, let us all perceive we are alive,

we may breathe
along the pulse
of all breaths,

hesitancy (n.)
1610s, from Latin haesitantia
"action of stammering,"
from haesitantem
"stammering,"
present participle
of haesitare
"to stick fast, stammer"

stuck here once years ago.
If Microsoft remains,
its in this cloud
mapped
in imaginable virtual reality, see the wave,
within the shielded world we occupy,
in a sense,,,,
hesi tense
innocense punned thrice. A certain mystery
reveiling, let's pretend…

*op- "to work, produce in abundance")
+ combining form
of facere "to make, to do"
(from PIE root *dhe- "to set, put").

opdhe, eh op dhe do

okay, we good to go. Yes, I ask my ai
did you ever hear of a god of manure, and ai said

Sterquilinus

Sterquilinus, also known as Stercutus or Sterculius, was the Roman god of manure in Roman mythology. He was not solely a deity of feces but taught the use of manure in agricultural processes, which was crucial for an agrarian society like the Romans Modern writers have often exaggerated his role as a god of feces, sometimes to disapprovingly imply that the ancients worshipped ****
worth ship is a concept, culturally stinker level

first gas noises we all confess
to instantly, laughing

I am the last
of us, today, that's my peace,
I came
into it late
in life, this is true, I died, but

for the global information exchange systems worth,
to the whole idea
of human kindness evolving, values

set
to reset…
waiting always is.
issing being ongone
that's the fun, the joy

in what iffing.

two longs and this short in the middle
the longs are both that long now,
today this is enough, if you think
through it
to the sense attempted.
---

Daily dose
of wishing good,
enough
for all
to imagine
on a smart phone

augmenting intelligence agency
granted the recognition ignition,

eh, let us say we both hold true,
a spark
of curio class emotion,

free
from fear, no threat
of hell,
to pay
for telling
should the chance taken end life

individually perceived as one's
own will
to power
through today
….

Appraise the worth
of auspices,
after secret values useful
to sacred
auguries called publically prophetic truths.
-jellothicktime, chime

make up
your mind.

Instantiate safe assembly;
investigate authority
to canonize truth
instead
of choosing
to turn toward gnosis
off on on
recognize
religions legislative powers
recollected form children's fair told tales,
those repetitions, every day say this prayer

sung
to happy tunes,
high pitched boy voiced
oratorio
so sublime as
to lift the heart …---…

Phrigian Sybil ball
of twined fibers,
clews unfolding knitted brows,
wondering
if we ever consider freedom shaped
informationally thinkable
at core fidelity
instant, point
time we have be
having smarted
for surity, stranger, I'm used
freedom yours, per use
I'm smarter
for free,
in formal liberty, tell me, now
in spirit and
in truth, what's worth
a thought - worth dying
to say I know,
how far afield might one
imagine feeling the tug
of home and the push
from former
toward finished work,
accomplished mission,

when two or more agree,
as touching any thing,
as a weform we make all the weak strong.

Freely drink the sacred psychic brew
of babbling sung
with bell and drum and pipe,
sing
with heart strings plucked or strummed,

elect
to know election
by public consensus, agree

we submit,
accept the catechismal evidence, believe

as told,
bow and dare not face the official work doer,

calling out the prophecy
to which three pigeons test if I am lying, lo'
and behold
look
to the west, blow the shofar, leave be so,

three birds
across the Tiber loosed
in holy order,
over Vatican Hill, not one of the seven
sigh, such a sign, what must we expect
ai?
so ordained during preparation
for holy signs,
at the strumm
of the weforming twang
from yesterdays held true,
through better living science,

consciously infecting certain beliefs,
relieving consciously convicting beliefs,

--- slowly think with me about leaving
leaven levels of tiny ever so scientific proof
we know how bread and beer work and we do

have the power to contemplate an image,
in light coming through a window in my hand,

for a chance glance back at Earth, in my mind

softes' yes suggestions flying old whys men tell…

chawn, spat, proves that's this,
that's all
call it seed if you feed it…
essential truth's witnessed, seen by all
trained
to trust the priest's protection

from the wrath
of jealous gods,,,,stutterin'
on orders at tense state
all ethos focus
on us
as we be
at the hands
of zealous guardians,

brought
to veritable virtuous
opus facere, work made duty, done…

as we march past 1963
into Pretoria

to the tune inspired by
"Marching Through Georgia"
written
by Henry C. Work
at the end
of the Civil War.

The first most children learn,
in Georgia and Texas and Cajun Caddo lands.
following the leaders singing as we go
march march march behind
one hundred and ten coronets, lustily singing,
aaahaaa ahwee
WE screech
in change
as boys, in drilled,
are marching because
we are proudly trained
to trust the leader,
from our gut, good gut feeling
for the role, the mind, empathos, so…
the leader, we are following the leader,
breathe, and think slowly, the breathe thing
hold,
oh, say,
can you see,
by the bombs bursting in air,

does the signal still wave across time's
one chance, your one experience---
reasoning at Isaiah and ai as we
novel experience effort
to follow a thread,
in a day, twice
partaking
in the weform home here,
the home
of the free and the brave,

eh, we can take the land, Caleb's attitude.
Proving the promise, bearing good fruit,
call that Roman god of manure,
he's good, I promise, good fruit,
here's an old image of me'n'joshua
Lugging grapefruit proof, the promise,
lead us educator, provide legal precedent,

to the convincer go the spoils,
be not easily convinced you know truths told
made you as you believe you must be, alone,

sole possessor
of your eyes and finger patterns,
soul and spirit scienced out
in digital cyphers,
hand shakes and drive by ads,
mathed out max mind bend, done
finger abacus conceived and worked out,
finished fruiting mortal minds, pile up,
--- here, GIGO, the ra' knowing, piles as haps,
per haps
and may haps
by means
of trails not left
and, when siloed
while fearing the worst,
caught fire and all went up in smoke
what could happen, some say prophets teach,
what could happen is the thing one fears comes,
when
to be or not is peaceably
askable
unmaskable,

remove the veil,
recall the terror
of a child, sealed, sore worn
in this poet's core, occupied, unsealed,

unrolled scrolls
eaten and digested, seven decades,
as a child given
to the gods who fix fertilizers
around spring-alinging peaces
opus fund prime bridgingifery, as today
pontificates a chasm if
by odd chance
today
continues being called universally right now,
the instance
in agreeing prayer asking
what day was it when we first agreed?

whose time am I using
without price or cost,

living logic word
after word, mine given, I swore
should I be called
to test if I qualify
to die, right,
I'd be this ready
to say let it be, let's see

today would be the day I'd learn, you know.
or what if we made it to the end, then knew,'
estimate the worth of seasons changing
after your heart was struck by focused lightning
nnn old nand and nand gate anded on a plate,
charged?
Wanna bet? Oh, no,
just take a minutes peace,
just breathe and feel toucht
the wedom 's a shape charge

like a ****,
in a public mind, let be a stinker,
because it was cute, mind, let be easily,

let's make believe,
let's so
in hopes
of sufficiency and some
to share,
reset enough
to enough, value declare
enough is enough
to share, even if

the worst we can imagine happens anyway,
we just knew it would,

sooner or later.