Nations  arose after the days of Peleg,
in the legendary story of Babel,
which
does have a present presence on the surface,
of the after Babel yon der myth of us
we the sapience augmented common sensed band,
single-sideband, of course, if you can cut the antennae,
to this old freq,
radioman entertainment zone, post
pasts unbelieved arizen
as we see around about us

we the beings thinking we were put here,
by no will of our own,
okeh? Hard for me to agree, for
I was a self-willed child, on the earth of 1954,
made unspoil-able, by my measure, sould,
so whatever I touch prospers,
it does not turn to gold, but time,
precious years
in days
proving once more, the way of life
remains reproof of instructions,
glitches gitinin, gremlins ist-hextical real messages,
say measure twice, cut once, keep plenty
of spare teleo-smores, say again
- whisper- find the answer -

DID is the strategy, not the disability.
Gitcheractagethah, adam henry….haul ***

Call the cops. I shot the sheriff.

Renegade boomers, eh? You seen some, h'eabouts?

Hunter people, no-sense talk babblers, yon der here
we come
sons of them guns was left.
Yep, ***** head on an old man in vietnam t'day,
tells a story told since ******'s,
time, at the briefest,
least heated
hate
instance of one once main flow, recirculating as the water
remembers,
all this did happen, parts of all of us were here,
in this moment, relative to you.

The entire creation groans in travail awaiting…

wait a minute.
we did do this, as a whole. See, besides knowns lost,
for their use in con structing the destructive idea given
Tubal-cain.
The enthrallment of Tubal-cain, you may imagine,
progressed with the reiteration of the father's curse on cain,

the signal emanating from the seed that knows the cost of dying.

Cain and Able, well, we have a few ways that tale makes the sense.
Have no fear, all that is past understanding, it cannot crush you.
Commoners hold the common sense, rule of reality.
Peace outward.
The commons are in fine shape,
fret not, we got some old peacemakers smoking flower,
blowing smoke up monstrosity's assine suggestion that I die.

The big story of this day is Jesus’ Resurrection from death.
It will be celebrated in homes and churches throughout the world.
But I think Jesus is more interested in us than us celebrating him.
He wants us to recognize
and celebrate the way we rise
from our darkness, and digressions
failures, weakness, sadness and depression.

When Jesus was on Earth he was honest.  He was himself.
That’s what got him in trouble.
He teaches me to subdue the anger and every hint of violence inside
to be true to the unique creature his Father has crafted
not special or above the rest of ordinary men
just different and true to my own voice.

Unlike Jesus, I am not that courageous and mighty with the power of love.
I still fantasize doing damage to those whom I deem evil
still I care too much about what others think
about how I look or sound in public.

I am unlike Jesus in too many ways,
but I am like him in my rising from darkness and doom
from my own self-made tomb.
My resurrections might be tiny
but large is the Spirit in me
and the ability to see
the light
to see the right
and pursue it wherever it leads
into meadows and into the weeds
away from tradition and my roots
beyond my past moorings
toward truth
and its small soarings
telling my little stories
from death to glory.