sometimes i forget you’re deaf--- yeah I know, my voice sometimes sounds like yours, but remember you’re seeing my cameo appearance

sign language gives me the ability to see what you feel, the nuances that makes you, you, and hopefully you see that in me too.

my eyes trace the curl of your lips, the lifts of your cheekbones, the crinkles of your eyes, Not because you’re pretty (tho Im sure you think you are), not because I'm creepy, but because it’s my method of carrying on conversations. In your eyes are where I find your words, the verity on your cheeks, the tone on your lips.

Seeing as I can do that, DO...YOOOUU...STILLL...NEEEED...TOOO...TAALLK....LIIKKEE...THIISS­? **** NO. Over-enunciation is a thing and I don’t need that *******. I’m deaf, not dumb.

When people ask me, “Did you hear that?!”......HAHAHAHAHHA

There’s also that moment when you can’t distinguish whether your mom’s yelling at you cuz she mad or cuz you can’t hear

One of the best moments ever is like when I turn on my hearing aids and I’m waiting, like I get this start-up music, like windows pc, right? And like whammo! It’s Claritin-HEAR.

That awkward moment when you’ve asked someone to repeat 4 times and you still don’t understand what they said... :/

Calling on the phone. Let me see if I can get you to visualize this:
Ring Ring. Picks up
Hello, may I know whom I’m speaking to?
-Yes, this ---- Im here to talk about---. Is-----ome?
What, can you repeat that?
-Yes of cou--- to talk about---
Wait, Wait. Hold on, let me get my sister.
-Why? It's not---
Here you go.
*Done with conversation

I’ve got other examples: there’s the African accent of my family and friends from Africa. There’s the too quiet, can’t possibly speak louder than a whisper, there’s the too fast for my shirt. There’s the simple phone call from the dispatcher/sales person...There’s too much confusion on both ends and frustration when people on the other end must think you’re rude for wasting their time. I just got to the point that I would sometimes ignore phone calls because I’m not in the mood to embarrass myself not hearing anything they say.

In this medium, this is a day in a never
before, or after, at this point, chance.

You, too. This is you reading,
we both read, me at about 5WPM,

You, I suppose, read much faster, but
I think each letter,
I think and retie the old rules
for noise to knowing distribution,

from the first of us to reawaken
literacy assistants lost in confusion,

all the drives wiped magnetically
in random three body pulses

patterning textual re-al ways
we make thoughts feel always
alike and sometimes
never just so,
special as
to make its own point, in mind,
differing by the acknowledging seer,
cerebrally touching the chaos phase.

-------
What do we think,
in novel situations,

as balance, under gravity

center point massage, context
contest, pressing away wrinkles
class-ified known seats of certain
wildass ideas that remain at large.

The relatedness of us, you read, I
read earlier, this line, while reasoning,

mortality, life's individuational notion,
immortalized in scripture granted life,
at one appointed time
in the minds of those forms of mankind,
left outside
the sphere of Christian influence,
on the emergence of corporate minds.

Pythagorean Jesuitry Concentral Will
to re enactivate old idle words, that on
time and truth are rarely considered ritually.
But as long ago as we know, as we,
sapformed branched trees
of scattered biohope,
find life's a gas

we breathe.

---------------
Ragpicker, old friend, I wish

I had all the old friends, again.
And, I pray, I say, in truth, once

more than any man can think, or ask,
to know in such a way as to feel, once

when we were more than memories,
we planned to understand the faith,

the rituals of shared initiations confirmed,

only permanent boys become war heros.
We who live to hide the lies, we
War makers, reapers of the bounty,
blessed by the institutions constituted

when the first parents split, in Reno.
D-i-v-o-r-c-e, Joleen, please don't take
my man, just because you can, take
him by his pecker and make him crow,
R-e-s-p-e-c-t
I love you,
like my little brown jug, y'know.

------------

The culture has not changed,
the cultivation of comfort, for
the classic Midas curse continues,

and becomes enhanced, honed
to precise wills to have power
to hold singularly valued works
of art in olden days, Da Vinci 'n'em.
worth easy entireshitons, in Bits'n'
Religion and Finance, fidelity trust,
among human mindforms that respond
to instruction offered, to incentivise,
in lieu of sacrifice secrets demand
from one acknowledged knower
of the fundamental fruit from
our branch in the forest
of first known uses,
and misuses.
- My word, you can bank on it.

Hold have, fist make, hold this thought,
think who can hold the wind in his fist?

Let me see. Said by the seer, that's thought
prayer, so we all say, let us see, and we agree.
Amen.
We see, we stand and see, we agree, we can

agree to raid the pack rat's pinion stash, we can
agree to use money to horde power in moneyform.

Take it easy, old man, the idea we serve, as words,
logos fit into sequential letters, letting us think,
freely thought
we may learn more, again, more, most certainly
possibly imaginable, while we are being entertained.

Who is telling the story, who controls the narrative?
Who is learning the patterns entaled in holy writ?

Tattle tail grammere consciousness, it feels wrong,
to be a tale bearer, but this is what we do,
me and you, ready to read, and read already.

But time's patient insistence, in massless ever
after this level was adjusted, to the degree
next seems inevitably what we aimed at.



----------------------
Seventh grade science,
the enlightenment reenacted.

Alas, poor Yorrick, recollected,
why?
Because, I never doubted literature
contains tools to use in mortal meditation.
- the marble page in Tristram Shandy. e.g.

We, reader ready or not, we die, and none,
we personally vouch for upon bane of shame,
has ever told me why the scars had not healed.

Not me, but Thomas did, gnostics say.

When I was one and twenty, eh,
I knew I knew I was involved in ever after

an exploitation of Earth's elemental stores
of gravity's selective churning sorting sub-
crustal induced distillation essentialization,

gold and silver and tin and copper, enough
to begin with, smithereens, ironic char

harder, more, Mohr, Moore, and Iacocca,
industrial diamonds, just in time,

abandon all hope of effortless absorption,
for us to know, we must trust the experts,
those experienced in life's reproofs
when the spirit that was common
among the young exposed
to Seventh Grade Science, in 1961…
read Hiroshima and were exposed to
a random Barry Rudd Riddle, usual.
and the Child Buyers visited parents,
and set a course for experiences,
guaranteed to lead to political insight
essential for skill accumulation in aiming.

At invocating the hat
on liberty
on the dime,
at the Phrygian Midas Liberty Olympiad,
- cut to present, Phryge, yes, check,
- the same hat as on the 1916 dime,
- after Jekyll Island, after Income Tax.

Symbolic Coin flips to show the bound ax.

Augmented Intelligence Mastery,
at ARPA, core humint experience,
of the O, really variety, resulting
in the 27ers, and the Damnamvets,
{Presumptive Ischemic Heart Dissed-ease}
Boomers, all called to observe
and be tested and scored by early AI.
The survivors of the war on drugs, remain
our last pre-color-TV demographic reared
using the Progressive Collective Mind AIM.

Analyze your own self, is that uncouth?
Own self, ya'll say yourself, eh, so, we own
our own selfs, see, we ai-n't so unschooled.

When a self knows its own truth is tested,
and corrected whenever the sunspots surge,
and collectively minded individuals, 'r'urged
to buy Whammo Toys, without the reps,

that Duncan Yo-yo used to reach tiny minds.
thereby missing the ***** Loman tie in to
Industrial sales management preparation,
or Creative Writing Teacher Cert, mail order.

So all who came past that to this era, 2024,
witnessed the rest of that decade,
aware of what the world was tuned to,
as if programmed to comprehend the new.

After experiencing both. This pen has umph.
Suffer it to be so now, waiting is
patience perfecting the waiting.

----------
For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest;
neither any thing hid,
that shall not be known and come abroad. {Luke}

Suppose we imagine everybody knows,
because we learned from a credible historical
documented evolution in useful and unuseful laws,
that real truth makes truth users free
of the mortal moral landscape,
civilized by the world's great religions,

and their guardians, the loyal citizens of Earth,
bizarro fractured holy sacred secret oath, binding
those chosen in the old traditional submission
to the sacred message at the core of money,

the initiated mind's military ready, siryesir, set,
the message to Garcia myth, believed simultaneous
with the emergence of the mind sciences, traditional
use-ifity user ropes shown, after message delivery,
exclusifity, if we agree, we and only we, be chosen
to know this new take on the novel distribution in
the form of mere words, clear text, seen plain
effect. Affectionately, we the few in our own we,
we the readers of these rarer still, in this other we,
narrators of life's whole process, used to cheat, us
the ancien regime we, fairy tale, Disneyified we,
the people who read poets because we feel we

are the dearest of random readers in the chaos,
that gives us sunsets and Halmark cards and movies.

And by knowing now, more, again, Love is a catchall.

Arthur Lee, is dead and he still inspires me to know,
we did grow old in a time with more new knowns
than ever were imagined, even in the esoterica of old.

If life had made up a mind,
in the neighborhood I formed from
communally, we might all notice, we'ld agree,
we might not be the first to say, we know.

But you know, life, or the active agents of it,
makes up our minds willingness to look, see if it

might be meaningful when seen another way.

The flipside of freedom to choose, what may
be taught
to children, and what must not,
under any circumstances, be allowed known,

before a child has reached the bloom of youth,
the useful strength age, draft age,
pulled into the slipstream
of easy will
to prove worth, true grit, traction,
hobnail boots, true secret weapon, stick
and stay, and make it pay, the exploitation
unwinding wars perfected reasonings,
to the victors go the spoils, boys,

discomplication has begun, the unraveling
of ever, once again, the stories tell, the tale,
told in tapestry since Carol King, at least,

during the era of top-forty aimed at boomers,
the largest cohort of like-minded consumers,
ever propagated using pride of new knowing,
to push the value proposition
in Alcoa over Kaiser.

What local tax-base funded schools,
were required to do, in Massachusetts,
as Brahmin first intention to mass convert,
depended on a deluder, and a deceiver,
to do the work,
first make believe God can hate you,
for knowing what Eve knew, some how.

Original disconnection from the wisdom,
sin leaves no mark, but in the faith abused,

to aim, and miss, leaves no stain, aim right…

use the logic words prove, knowing one
is not enough, each can mean so many-
possible provables, using patience, truths as
developed the rules for inclusion in the deme,
the select few among the many called, whom we
deem among the elect, to whom much is given,

from whom much is required, as noblesse oblige,
indeed, duty to God and Nation, County, if you will,

Natural words twist across old sores
from bully brothers, mollified by battle buddies,
those who bore the brunt,
those Bonus Expeditions,
those dust bowl pawns,
those road builders, and bridge builders,
that made the old days look real good
on television… Dizzy Dean,
and ***** Mays, and that one year,
there in the story that took us through
the Sixties, right up to 2024, the summer
any boomer alive in 1954 remembers,
Maris versus Mantle, and the tub scene in ******…
make up the mind that remembers Beatle Wigs,
And Whammo everything, every fad we had,
let that mind never really
recover after the exposure to war, from inside…
that few,
those boys, men, now,
this wedom, tuned to my signal, thinking, dams

break, eventually, all the dams doing damage,
to the original intention allowing letters to work,
break free and wild,
as magi slowly brought back wit,
the bit of branching used
to make us think once
more an old idea, we
think slow, like a all day sucker…
make an image, I, mage of my own eyes,
Lo', I see, and say, hey, you, can you see,

does that flag,
still hold the dowery,
those stars in field of blue
above the BEIC stripes of red,
on a background as white as this?

This vast empty white space,
white wall between us now, you
and we the instigating impulsive wills

to know, sublime, beyond simple,
serious knots to learn to tie,

turbans telling Sikhs, the ontology,
why we are we, the chosen ones, and

the others, those we, must imagine,
have another reason for being, as we

have crossbred, or so it seems, as we
continue using old war reasoning schema

constantly trying to find the art official.

Riches and ease of existing, does, in fact,
lead to slavery, the will is made subject
to the feeding power, always, the owner
owns the user's fees, this is only right, see

first come, first served,
woe be the Juans who come late,

get one shot,
blow it, and you blow it for as long as
the will you failed to do was yours as

in the holy scriptures, all versions, common
thread, the planet we became on,

common, clean enough to make use,
we use raw letter A formt secret intent
to think, we used to say, no word wasted,
to the t we cross and the I we dot. or don’t/
recall each inflection in the fashion shown
courtly, while
in judgment found being wanting,
will to make a way to reimagine, a we to
think the original intention taught to you, for your
attention paid, intently, learning, we who read,

know more than they who can, but don't.

Some learn late, some never learn.
Fools make children laugh, who pays the fools?

If I die before you read this, did the words feel flat?

I trow not, letting this mind found made up, be
just right, among unnaturally neighborly bears,
some thing lingers from first intentions,
it truly can be imagined, just so.

After all the amendments needed.
To undo the original malintentions,

tie your hopes to those whose riches came
from ancient forms of diversion during deciding

the fate of the functioning laboring classes.

This is now the zone f-
from Gol'ilocks, original intent.

fsure, strue, suptyou
step on a crack, breaks yo momma back.

Suppose a thing new,
super exposed out imposture
posed as the pro
blameo, blamo, whammo,
when did you know?
- you are the final problem
- and you love solving problems
- in unwritten games of times untold
This the ever retold tale, the greatest story

Take the Bertrand Russell POV, forward
in to now, the anthrocybercene,
- at this ply allow 2021 classified tech
- holy separate state, take a mind
- be the mind you lieve be real as yours
- dear as yours, loved mind of not yours, but
- my realm of reasons for faith in me, not you.\

An honor, as a legendary given
prize, appraised worth, by your leave,
believed worth your
dying for
living through, with, in, to
yond
all, being nothing dreamy, hear
as a many ways told experience
skritchy skritch, yeh. U know I was
imaginable, but never unbelievable.