telling my own self I know,
a thing or two
about ways and means
and positions of things,
in oppositional support of the core.
Incarnate mind, brain based AI, actual
Art, create-ifing Intuition, was ist das?
Catch the eye, buy a bit of sticky
hmm, what is that?
Story, the old serpent, my guide since
when
I knew true, true knowing, like when
an old flame tells you, she met
somebody, who really
makes me feel like a woman, y’know,
wha’dja’y’mean? ways and means
oppositions of things and being
wasitmean?
loss, felt for, lost and lonely, lovely
left behinders, after the raptures
of the grand decades of industry,
we made all the white moths we never
notice as part of the picture in Chaucer,
turn fashionably black, through auto discretion,
coal to coke shift in depth of field
ethos of moths, drawn to flame, si,
many species drawn to flame
were white then black now speckled, sometimes
auto, eh, self-sorting, zehr dis-con-
crete, accretian,
startling beauty, stalag-mite 17,
times, a right used carnal mind,
takes the journey to the soul
that breaths, the spirit
ever spirit, never more.
Play boo, or boo hoo, or who knew,
but you, give account for ever-ish
words, idly spoken, as punji points,
pending discovery,
when the one you said you knew,
always only thinks selfish, wishery,
with me
at the center, steady as she rolls,
we, the center self, aware, we are
creation, the act, manifested,
in a mind, alluring good
to eat, having tasted,
one knows, when
we know, I as a mind thing, a character
in a story, like the real Jack Reacher,
as he fails to fit that scientology shill,
if you will,
friend of the dealer, who is friend
of the boss, and
all bets are in,
who bet next is…. now, here, we are
this is it.
Who won? Well, that is easy to say,
but hard to tell true, at the root, where
the last war we were used in was won,
but magi are sorted on gifts, charismate
but but buddies from those half-tent days,
preparing to march and obey field signals,
to face the arms of Kruppstahl, so bright
the pour, Stix, at its schzoid-prime re-
imagining for an album cover, so-re
al we realize, we see wherever we
realize we are,
sort, sorted or sort of like, holders, sacks,
bundles, yes, this is something like
what we are as a readerwriter we
like make believe – the actual,
original, great game, con-
ceived con-science, re-
cognition, from the above imbedded
butbutbut
be lief, lief as not, be mean guiled app
apt
to humble you enough, to be kind
sort, sorted or sort of like, holders, sacks,
stuffed with lightest bherdon ever bhorn,
ever-learning, yet never lacking the yearn
to know more, as more expands,
to revelate hesitation
is fatal,
ever the hellhound flaw, my guidebook
mentions, angels children have,
those be holding, eh, as we hold beauty,
those messengers constantly hold
the facing side of truth, justice and right,
— game mind, pause
lefty looses a slider, and it is as if
the park fills with slick jello
gummiesnotslickswallowed whole,
— broke down
choke the carburetor, butbutbut
we in the novel, we know, where this ends.
The author dies, and all the characters
who find common id sense, esse, sense, we
live until you volunteer, to hold
that thought,
a little longer, as the jello atmosphere
under goes a good old school grokking.
I remember,
grok a rock, I told some hippy kids.
I remember Carl Purcell,
in his late teens and early twenties,
painted a rock,
in Chloride, Arizona, a mining town,
abandoned with the gold standard,
mostly,
but for some pensioned poor,
and their offspring, who had
no miner’s union to work for, no sense
of money’s worth,
to a mortal with none, and no gumption
to go out and get some OPM, si?
Other people money, war for
mind… war for mind…. war for mind, take
mine
Jesus is said to have suggested to Saul,
who fourteen years later was Paul,
who flatly stated, let this mind
be in you, which was also, also, also auch ok
in jesus christ, christmas season reason
peace of mind. No worries, fret not, honest,
most honed known you own, why lie,
what good can you do, any way,
if you could only be you making
peace of mind,
for my time, in my space, 10×10 space con
30 sq.ft. window, looking out on the top
50 linear ft. of the top of a granite wave,
from the big one, that did come,
and now, the wise man finds his house,
with the conies and Lot, in the rocks,
Si,
Baja is a beautiful bubble, beheld by few
due to the complexity of complexity
in terms of faith and knowledge called science,
science fidelity is a Newtonian concept
that stands with the inverse square, for what it is,
a way to think how this — ch ch choose
after god had this thought, I should like to think it,
what if it
could be other wise
could be as this is, no otherwise, no optional
private
interpretations ever set to skewer prurient natures,
suck the wishers dry, makem pray for mocking
our ritual labyrinthine rules to live by, axio-masses,
ohmm- ah, makem see ‘er
in the toast,
Hail, Mary, full of grace, greasy easy, n’yah,anhanh
noise from those days, nails on blackboards,
dusty grey, even after washing,
a child could see, those boards are not black, as
I know black,
black is
black chalk on those chalkboards, contrasted,
so, I some how, took it on myself to draw
the story I was told of a people dressed
in black, with tall hats, and gold buckles, beautiful
and guns, muzzle-loaders, no repeaters yet.
1954,
then, the boy who grew into the man, who…
did little of note, but he wrote of praying and wishing
as being the things he did, when others found him
smiling at the thought of sitting with Helvetius,
…
whom I do not know, to ask him what he thinks
this is, this thread,
knock at the door is my daughter from December
1984, she and her wedded mate, live in my rich guy
place in the sunset, sword and shield
left by the riverside, from my tower, I siege strongholds,
imaginations glutted with thousand faced heroes
and sad suicidal clowns who cain’tgitno satisfaction,
sati, is faceted as a jewel word, we must know much more
than I know to know why sati was the shared pyre
not by choice, who could imagine not wishing
to live on, after the only loved thing, has gone on
to live on, or make another round, meet again
and love again,
that could happen, in a life with those rules, we may agree,
but
the rub, the friction, tolerance of wrongness for faith that
wrong is right, and none can prove it,
otherwise, but other people, who have no part in this,
aha momentum urging minds to merge as we, who
believe, as children do, briefly, that grown ups gone grey
are wise, to the ways and means faith employs
to move mountains of meaningless wedominion, from
those not so idle words, twisted, by order of the King
of England and Scotland, twisted, privately – really?
I heard, he was not normal.
Normal for kings, is not normal for mean men,
I was led to understand, one bows to the crown,
not the wearer,
is that wrong, the rules exist, we agree, then we have
judges,
referees to the rules, not the ruler, the rule itself,
for instance,
love,
said to be so easy, I find that not so easy, love, not hard,
just,
not the missing bit, to fix the flaw that lets the industrious
mind, enforce industrial rules on the unmoneyed classes,
discrime, discrime, d’oldbum dist me, discriminate
appears, as black puritan pioneers,
with no sense of living naked, ever, happy,
good hunting,
fine feasts in the fall, easy fishing in the springl,
we got it all, good times, just
keep on, rolling on to me,\
at the point of no return, on any given day, I try
umph, like go
-aight, ai y’right, yo show, yo momma, be as it may
so it is a private right, we may freely share, like Covid or Aids.
It ain’t my sack of beans, and that ain’t my red cow.
Explosive knowing is as lilacs in spring,
tiny points of branching possibility reach out from
positions that were
centers of single blossoms, once
you know some things, no one else need know,
I bloomed, I was bee fondled,
I never really had a thought, as a flower, that is
all in my mind,
at my will, if I wish to see where it goes, it goes, and if
it be my will, I resist the the wish you were here wish,
we never knew, that is vanity and the efforting doth vex
the very spirit that imagines hell,
clean, gone,
like, almost, exactly like outside is white,
inside is black, and
look, per ifery what at the edges of those spreads
colors and their complement of emotions,
first tier
second tier, go little Suzuki, make that Honda suck dust,
toooeeee too ee ee ee
far gone to give a dam, another oops, there goes another
Sammy Davis meme, from the grey days of my youth,
I was 28, before Sammy was to draw, fast-draw
aficionados, to the Grand Ol’ Ryman, right there,
over the top of the only 70’s pornhouse, I could see,
across the empty parking lot, I can’t recall seeing it full,
we select our details, the backdoor of the Ryman, focus
see we
know some things are sacred in ways some folk find foolish,
but we are not those who say, in my heart th-
there is no God, eh?
Interrupting, thorny issues, the crackling of these under pots,
noted, often in the KJV,
yeah, we were headed there, me thinkin’ I like to tell some
misinformed shapers of men, something they seem to be
missing
in their mission to inform the world, with wishery wasery
de-ift in text, as simple as pi could be in greek,
and you could see circles and squares and such at will knowing
the basics,
to your own self be true. Therapy. Good. Feel true. Be
true,
do you believe,,,ping there is always where the tug comes, hook
set,
¿are you experienced…
skritchy skritch skritch,
There are times we live as masses, measured trending,
or not,
how does it feel, to be on your own, one direction known
down
down
down in easy, you meet Loo Reed, and recognize
Brigitta in Nico and my own JP,
I laugh, in my heart where none say here we find not truth,
this way
this life, it works out, let go, no string, where do
kiting spiders land,
¿? quests, none taken, then, may not prove worth the while
perusal of the face, Mercutio’s kinsman,
Mab, the faery queen of mad revelry revelatory
memory manifestations of why was that on the test?
Filters gump from non-gump, next
turn your head and cough, say
Andy Gump
and magic has it happen on screen Tom Hanks
up to his old pranks,
in a trip through all we over saw overlooking the exam
a life exam, with all the time in the world to explore,
floating on a fiberglass Andy Gump…
why, yes, why is often a lament,
yet why is more oft a reason being formed, a life exam
in progress, speed of thought forming tehkne for kennen
wissen verses or lines or paragraphs fit to fluid sensibilities,
fragile is not feeble, in minds, X-man, proves, we can imagine
many things we say we can’t.
We do allow imaginations to exalt themselves, not for ever,
for a while,
now, we tug, a little wind-tug to notice the oaks uppermost
shades edge, dancing, in my moment
home enjoying, as no recent king
of things that can make war,
may realize from wishing,
we who do address the throne, we ask that it be made known
not made up, the test is taken perfectly on time
by the feeblest of minds,
you are reading minds,
left I winks, right I moans, who do we think we are
doubtless,
when we are together, on the stage, dancing in the rain
we ain’t gay, that way, we just ain’t wired
to make up more meat minds, by chance
we might make better,
making up minds
gno the ant and stars considered as clues to the curious,
more
remains the itching ear rollable tongue plus rollable rrs
ability to take liability adaptation on the wombed ones,
and do no harm,
bher wirhworthit worthit
doctor we have our surge,
and right then the urge to rub my face and ears and
clench and shrug and shake like crazy for a second
dispelled the stroke of genius
that like would have taken that
breath, of a day on the dau stream into my own
storybook life in the course of
Human Events, passing time, hoping to die quietly
any time not too soon, perfect, set
say the official day Greenland is ice free,
and we all watch the earth wriggle in an I told you so,
with no war rules needing to be readied for the next big
one.
This is life, speaking from the easy chair, picked up,
somewhere, I never bought one of these
in those days. I had a distressed leather love seat,
we anchor our own memories in other peoples minds,
an other people kind of OPM. Art as Intuited
Known Uses- each with 150 prepositions
Taste the Son and see, what does it say, the word?¿
Not taste the Son, but the Lord, eh?
que, where does it say, these are but suggestions,
as to what became of certain mindsets used
in dramatic representation of the meaning in old
mysteries lost in time, as the proverbs point
to knowing no one knows how to know,
so, go, as a game, we can, we have imagined
a metaphor of as good as endless possible good moves
over time, now results, you reading this proves that,
this is my future, your now, and my life exam,
is going well, thanks for the recog, that one clue, co
gnosis, didit, yeah, Joan said Hi, she died. I did not,
know her,
we were Goldwater Republicans together, a close-knit group.
I feel aware of her then, less than now, when she’s gone,
but for words, you can still hear Joan Didion laugh,
even if you never read a word she wrote,
’til she was dead, and she laughs,
and starts me wondering who is afraid of what again,
and what would I do about if I were
three pup choices jesus harrypotter or one other
me, yes, doubtless, me
the point of the process developed early in the
fifties, yes, prime lobotomy fortune’s made, brain surgeon’s,
yeah, what I heard, the rest is a jumbeliarliarpantsonfire
plunge past the Freudean post mental pausal Jung injection
Ha, what if that, and then weed was legal, this is that sort
of liberty taken to living, for no reason, but to season the soup
some system is signaling we all know
something, on the scale of we all know Covid,
and it ain’t the whole truth and nothing but the truth,
it’s the truth you
find true enough to die for, but not to kill for, Thuc, in Saigon
burning, burning bright fire
tears, tears blur, and big sigh-i, thinks of fifties sensed passing
since thens
since thens
since thens
since thens
a thousand generations, or years, mortal meme meainingful
links less likely without x-men as something to imagine,
- among the first sold after the Alamogordo settlement,
- I have foveal focus of all I ever imagined knowing seen
- live as an entity who headlines as BTDT,
- he does a full tat Ken Kingman, first occurrence,think
he was not like anybody, for real, he was I guy, I knew
who he was, I was not his friend, but have the connection,
goes to first glance, I guess I saw him at a dance,
bang he’s kevin bacon, invested with madeoff lika bandit
life has its funny ways, funny ways of sweeping golden days,
aside. So momma says, soups on, you can make the rice,
cause I can handle a digital rice cooker and a cup,
and a faucet full of flowing water,
filtered throught this granite,
that granite, outside my eastward view. Rice. right.
I go and do one worldly thing, singing as I find rice
and measure, close enough, salt and any oil,
butter was my first thought but here,
see this golden corn oil then, taste this rice,
with just enough fat, to sizzle, when its hot, oh,
no, never gave it a thought old man, if ida known
she can tame me, but she can’t blame
for knowing when I knew, she was naked,
then I knew why she wished I could know and I
suggest giving morphic resonance a try,
what ifery heaven on earth is missing
what, not sex, that takes a minute,
get over it, we, are after greed,
the seed, you hold, just in case, you know,
they get inside your mind and rearrange
the strangest things, on orders of magnitude,
wow, complex as faith invested in a lie,
I believe you were told what to say, young man,
yessir, nottadamnthing.
but the father had said don’t you say a goddamned thing.
As we see the experience of appearing relative to
a sitting judge, having been judged we judge others,
is this the twist about on the point of worth
or value, is it this and that, or
any otherwise that does not kill, I should walk, of course,
the judge traits, gather all for the kill, a will is in our way.
In the quiet holy meditation one gong zoneownohming
beacon bek abeckoning beknowing call
ya’ll come, from way begone long, in free,
we see the sign, stars and number of 19s and such
shown us in the interest of finance, good faith
blue sky and such signals saying
sure, we sell the sky, you wish to pay what, ah,
a bit of attention, each day, like that Nordic Lad,
who carried his 4-H calf to the auction block
from the judging circle, where the fatted calf,
had been not led, but carried into,
the boy in the story, who took
that calf from its mother’s tit, to raise it,
for the prize,
the look in their eyes, when I carry my red heifer
why should some random goy grunt know this,
because this is that kind of war,
knowledge is first,
no secrets, then power, free as a mind imagines
Ritual Purity in Judaism any wish to know,
itch to know, where do these rules arise and why
now
AI know, this is after ever began, millions of lines,
loans, lines loaned, returned
no serious thought given, for the price is high,
to imagine, you are the man, in my case, I can live with,
if I were, me, I’d be friendly, maybe curious,
Tantric, what, was that resonance, morphic
vibes. Like that,
yes, we have arranged a looser social structure,
where his fear of rejection, begins to attract her attention
as words become the jello from yesterday inoneletterspeed
Take your familiars with the local spirits,
that costs you one red heifer never bred, milked or yoked,
a yearling, by and large.
So, go find one, right. Right outside that narrow gate, there’s
this goat man, and he also happens to breed red cows,
how’s that for the best of luck after you carried
that body to the tomb.
This is a costly karma, but, be that as it may,
never touch a dead man,
it will all ways, cost you, we tried to inure the mind,
Bonnie and Clyde in Vegas, before the flight,
then again, at Khai Vinh, with the ambush
chopped off at the end,
flap flap flap white screen, deep and need be think you know
who bought the boy’s red heifer without spot or blemish?
What does that mean in this part of the book of some life,
;likely a parable, and arche arrowing at perfect wisdom taken
home, to three generations, in winter,
these days of covideo simultaneous hate strains feeding
nasty nanognats, war is for our own good, get it our own
get it dominion,. take, or wait,
I made my bet, if it be thy will, I took it dark,
I did not lie, there was nothing hold ing drawing
me to mind my ps and qs, but you, who read
all my storys and you are sorry you did not know
when you did not notice anything, because you
ran away to other people’s homes with brothers
both dead by now, no doubt, we calculate,
Slick died in Milwaukee, soon after coming back,
I never saw him, but once, after I got back,
war is a stupid thing to make for a living,
but it is easy, once you can make up a mind,
to pick up on one, leave the other
behind, the white stucco wall,
there, the lizard saw, sorry reality… we analyze analogue
At the edge of ever is an after all.
the inner edge is all that we think it is,
but it is not a Truman show,
it’s a global bubble,
like science faith you can see pictures,
Dan Bongino and the big business of returning Trump to power.
Google Earth, right, we had that, then.
what’s new.
you know any poor people,
you ever made a Medical claim,
you ever try college, interests you can’t
be relieved, of those, I was
receiver of a pardon, for the asking, nada mas.
Why would I imagine I am special,
eh? Try it. Life ain’t fair,
but it is truly fun.
Artful Intuition wished in ever after zeal,
to say, peace is first gut fed, then head, then heart,
the hook in the CVX under the aorta, that ought
make us think, there is a reason we speak
of heartfelt council, and guts aching to speak.
waiting to see what we do next, the feeling
that this is worth nothing is my projection of rejection
from some set, I am either in
or unique, one off.
with — wait this one did, ah he had some kids, and maybe
some he never met, we could remake the whole story,
peacemaker dies, to find the whole world rich,
in the spirit, if
you will or choose, or may, as the rules specify,
after the door opens, the known answer enters,
after that is ever, then
began to become now, then. Everybody knows,
then I reply replyed, added a layer of ifery,
wait.
