all the envelopes in all the worlds
will never be enough to carry my love letters
letters with headers that would be better read
dear  lover number 1,2, or 3
but the dears are really never suffixed by numbers
because the names that correspond to them
mean more than all of their sum
and fill up too many pages than I can count to
and some pages the number I can’t read at all
because I bare down too hard with my pen
and the ink seeps down onto the next letter I have to write
making page 76 look like page 48
and the periods at the end of sentences
look like misplaced and blurry hearts
it doesn’t help that I write in red
and that I only love a certain shade
it doesn’t help that I am broke
and I can’t afford ink
but rubber band are always on sale
and I can wrap them tight around my throbbing veins
to pump out the most velvet red hue
at the lowest price
but when my blood starts to bottom out I stop writing
and I start kissing the next boy who makes
my heart beat out more and more words
to write with.
Another number to start off a letter with.
Dear number 5, I’m sorry about your head but you shouldn’t
Have under judged my right hook
Dear number 7, don’t worry my body’s finally absorbed those bruises
Dear number 1, I wish you could have seen me naked I wish
It was still possible for you to see me naked.
To cut off all my rubber bands
And to burn all my stationary
Because you need to be greedy
And you need to use all the envelopes in all of the worlds
To write letters for me.

Perpetuousity of Motive is a
need, not everlasting but maintained
by highest virtue or a desire that is
lacking-- a kind word, halved and
suffixed with an E D
tame paliative of meaning reminds
us all that time's not one, but rather
two things: we reach out for it and
Sense it, but with our mind it is reborn like
each and every thought and deed's encased
in placenta unshorn-- the mind that
holds the key to life rotates what is
worn and evens out the treads below
the tires as we soar; that is, time
is body, time is mind. Two things in one.
More importantly and with impetus: time
IS
What has
Become.
Time is ending and beginning, hence your
time is old yet young.

2020 - day 103 -- a long and winding story, fun, I re read it twice.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020
8:04 AM

Pharoah-ism is a thing.

It's in a class of words holding forms for governing,
herds of humans,
who can be fit to the form, walk this way,

like an Egyptian, indebted for all your worth

Trillions and trillions, soon enough,
the ghost of Everett Dirkson laughs at
another billion attributed to Carl Sagan,
"we ain't even thinking real money any more."

To whom does the government of, for, and by the people,
owe all the nation can invent

Some day we will learn each bit of reality, but

we, as a specie, a valued mod on the base line
must access our global brain.

China -- that is -- the military mind of China,

has egged on
the military might of the USA, offering hope

for all-out war on peace, for no reason.

War has never had a reason for which any good
could come. Never.

And I will defend to the death your right to disagree,
but not your right to fight and destroy me.

If peace and war were to meet on a distant shore,
peace might move inland, but

now, we meet here on earth as mere ideas empowered
by the codemaker; peace and war

tete a tete, cabezo y cabezo I betcha, like dos cabezos

peering ahead on I -10... on the road again...

this is a changing station stage of life...

fold down time.

monster employers, users and maintainers of
common flesh and blood eyes, ears and hands,
people of the commonest class;
some times sitting in boxes,
some times standing in lines, sometimes

watching welder robots do your dad's old job.


--- capital
= money = time.

Gotta minute?
Invest it in imagining you think, as in,

think

who holds those, no, not those,

these truths, these factions of the whole
truth
faction, not fraction,

truth
and nothing but as sworn to on tv via mirror neurons
and solidi-fied, pur-chased, caught, netted,

in plebeian pledges of allegiance from first
grade, in the sorting of useful citizens,

some may serve at the highest levels, lifted via
lessons proven learned in standard tests,

-- number two pencil, fill each box, complete-ly,

so a machine can discern your answer, and punch
through the insulating paper, to signal
each bit of evidence

coming into piles of assorted usefull knacks,

mark this one. Feed him Wattie Piper, make him
think, I can
think, I can, think, think a little think...


We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of

How did Einstein think?

AI ai ai, we know. Not in words. Einstein was taught to think

in whatification. What if I

--- nail the sun to the sky and feel the earth move me at
-- twenty-five, or so
-- thousands of miles
per fifteen three hundred and sixtieths of a day
-- and a night, one whole day...

but N D Tyson taught me that trick, not Einstein...
and not all things count as worthy,
relatively, of attention paid.

The worth of a thought's open door invitation to the curiosity we
enjoy


Semantics (from Ancient Greek: σημαντικός sēmantikós,
"significant") 
is the linguistic and philosophical study of meaning 
in language,
programming languages,
formal logics,
and semiotics.
It is concerned with the relationship between signifiers
—like 
words, phrases, signs, and symbols
—and what they stand for in reality, their denotation.

On the subject of secrecy in general,

ah, no, we've no secrets, for here we have no truely
believable lies,

the truth will out, we say.
Life ain't fair, death had no hope, that's just

the way it is.
Wait and see. We had ein kleiner Gedanke, once
upon a mythical histerical time,

ah, think of any first blood in a world of secrets, such as we

formed from, even in famine, some seed was sown
each season,

some seed remained from first story peoples, preserved
in sacred places, safe,
until the dawning on you, that this is true, life always wins.

brightly lighted stage of history

no weakness... save where the blade meets the soft flesh
beneath a noble head bowing to think


fringe brushes my gnostic-itch, son of a gun,

son of a blade, edge, point

pierce the air, no pop, no apoptosist apostasy, see

we use words with no definitive meanings, right?

significance is cast aside, who cares
that's just semantics, I don' quibble bout {sign-if-i can-sense}
significance
or sign.
I wonder did we double down on a word righting there,
did we give meaning to a barely breathing

wind born lie, some interruptions signify engagement of

a clutch, a tool to grip the wild spinning trans-
*******, while

we slip into something more comfortable.
A higher, cruising 12 to 1 gear

My neighbor from two hills north, is coming to sit a while,

the guy has been called Cowboy, as a name, since all his siblings
knew him.

He is a walking archetype. And my friend. We share some burrs,
from wild meadows ridden on sole leather,

leaving a steaming auto-mobile by the side of the road,

aaah, the interruptions {more, with Oliver gone}

any line in context, is a step past last, a first of all the nexts

Nexts?
Options. Who determined this? My will being to discover this
fringe connection to the persistence on the fringe

of string theory strangling struggling

genera general, whole sorts of hu-mongolian signif-if-if ier yous.

Yous guys includes girls and nobody makes me say,

wombed AND un-wombed, man. So yous, youse, y'all you all;
you,
samesame, okeh. Plain and subliminal, wait and see. Losers win,

when they stop fighting fair.
Die and see what happens,
or imagine
you
know some body who did die and before he did he said,

Hide, and watch. AND now, you see,

caution once cast to the wind, calming all the rage required

to oppose the forces

¿? quare, sistere, wait, feel the urge to know, a click calque

see, new old idea, an old idea studied to the point of a word
formed to signify a set of things

cal-que-able, in curios kurio terms derived

from Phoencian merchants, who set up benches in all the ports.

Users of money, milkers of the exchange, worth-ship of silver,

balanced on the craftily formed me-assuring thing,

eight silver tid-bits makes one golden one, tid-bits fit

fingers, excluding thumbs, for thumbs play a role

mechanically in holding any thing, even

steady -- com-pre-hensive press press sure...

you got it, knowledge

ex-spands into wow... did it work?

Did we make a handle? Or a tool? No pressure, guess.

And Dave Goodman, rides into the west, with a QVC Lid-Lock

full of fabulous pasta cheese and celery, with peas.

A culinary experiment conducted by the grandmother
of all my grand children,

a most mazing teacher of balance's pre care-ious role

on an inclined plane sure to flatten the curve

--- are we in historical moments a generation long,
--- with second generations arrows
--- never quivered, these shafts I shot by faith at unseen things,

for which I have reasons. Were now the war,

we all agree war always cost far more than its worth in death,
robbing life from mankind,

unaware if there ever were a gospel truth. I say don't study war with carnal weapons.

Words carry us into real contextual contests for human sanity as a whole,
we can make peace,
we all can breathe easy, loose the tight jibbs {jaws}, gritted molars, loosen up...

Historically, it seems riddles became de riguer in ifity, but plainly,

only surviving stories survive.

Science knows no story which was eaten up and troubled m'bowels and made me know

boom boom boom, montezuma's revenge

in the spirit kah-blewy con ef ef ef fectual fervent

prayer/sayer saying/praying in timeless harmony

if we can agree... no good we imagine can fail,

let chirality meet diversity and error meet ciliation

conciliate celebration,

conciliate (v.)
"overcome distrust or hostility of by soothing and pacifying," 1540s, from Latin conciliatus, past participle of conciliare "to bring together, unite in feelings, make friendly," from concilium "a meeting, a gathering of people," from assimilated form of com "together, together with" (see com-) + PIE *kal-yo-, suffixed form of root *kele- (2) "to shout" (the notion is of "a calling together"). Related: Conciliated; conciliating; conciliary. The earlier verb was Middle English concile "to reconcile" (late 14c.).

take away my anti-grace, de
ify my chance appearance,

dance, mirror neuronically, sitting your chair-saddle,

y'put y'left foot in behind your right and

boom
y'hit a but, but this, but that, but some other thing,

you got only so much mortal attention,

so when one door closes, whatever you need, is not there,

here we see the old wise man who saved a city and no one knows his name,
he say, redundancy of instruction is the way of life.

fectual per effing e fect, non sensicle semantical ice, Gibsonian ice,

no sweat, we are wrapped in white linen,

we broke on through and waited for you.

Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also.

words we remember were words
meant
to stand tall understanding all things


differently, re
reading, the scene from Night Scenes in the Bible,
that
was a level of knowns
effectually un provable but by
common movie-complex unbelief release, let it be

-- lower missing efs, finding more attention {behind the scenes}

ef-fectual is conjugolly confusin my prudent nature.

or higher, north or sout, plus or minus h

who cares. We made it. This is today.

Meek inheritance day or the spirits judged by the degree day,
a holi
day
in which they trouble their own house, and recall the point that
pierced their own soul,

so to speak,

survived hating your own self for other's sakes,

sakes meaning  goodness and graciousness which

constitute the happy bits in ever,
the treasures found,

where a man's heart is,
my diamond farm is yours now,

my gift to you... only words.

I inherited the wind, my job is to finish melting the ice.

God and sinner reconciled is a song,

does that make it less true?

For us, ever began before today,

so today is that day or it is not, we wait to see

or we wait and see, seeing if

this were the day, when all things go my way,

or come my way, in the course of human events,

I may be ready if readiness is some form of kurios

assurance, blessed, said *****, in a song,

I agree, blessed assurance,
Hey-sus is mine, find his words bring comfort

2020 paradigm shift is common parlance, Cowboy uses that
and logos regularly and he is

old, by mortal standards, for an archetype he's barely ligandary
to most receptive sub caudal imps.

they can feel

him biting the bullet,
gritting his teeth on the Gerber Bowie-wannabe blued steel
blade, re-imagined in reread instead, bullets bitten can go off,

I know a kid fired a deadly-for-a-mile bullet,
with a hammer and a rock, so, knifes are dangerous, too,
so
as a mime-ical biting down, per
haps this hero-in-forming bites

a wooden drumstick, beating now with one,
biting down on the other
boom
boomto doom boom
boom
boomto doom boom... and as the beat goes on,

fringes find loose ends and latch on...

Dirac was an early Cher fan, and she was something like dys
lexical survivor of the year,
if she can, anybody can
I think I can read faster than

hmmm, slippery *****,
speaking memes as old as I remember, then

by the time I wondered if she were real or
a con structure
I lose my footing

slip on something comfortable, this promises to be

that night, in the legends, just prior to a marked, edge of night,

ever after post. Will you still love me,

tomorrow.... deeedly violins lift away any hope

of redemption, oh, ma, it was 1963, you had to have me

to sing your blessing into,
to hide your gift in me, no one must know, oh god
bless his heart...

no part of this vision is clear, nor plain, why is this my beatrice
cockatrice

Olden day, Robinson's cowboy preacher son, sowed a saying in my
core, I sup-pose, put
his phrase formed
an ever more pleasant link to Wikenberg,
on this shelf, see, we can remember the target by re

reading... remembering never drink from the Hasayampa.
and you can tell the truth
by
aquiring point on conscience. Taking thought.

Ethos keeps insisting we are in some offensive mode.
Thus the call for concentration, we are tunable now,

on some oldies but goodies websites...
Kenpepiton.com, for one.
mytechpeople.com is possibly in the archives.

Calebland.com long left to a bland b-break lacking dash,
early urls. imaginable as answers to
either wishes or prayers,

or desires... unseen, unthinkable tools to augment a

satisfied mind, completely ******, no direction home...

here, my heart, my contentment container,

at the moment, indistinguishable from any mortal concept of heaven.

Robinson's father's saying: {remembered just in time}

some times you have to stomp your own snakes.
he may have said, you gotta stohmp yerown dam'snakes,

but never would he have said: one must stomp one's own snakes.

You gave me in the shining image raw with
Water, claws and streaming head  
- That oblate crunch of teeth  
Set in a grin that lives and dies with all our rivers.

Loving on the run,
You keep your red blood rapture close:  
Defiant body heat  
Amongst the Winter reeds and ******* eddies  
Lit with bone white moons coldly  
Whispering to the quaking weak
'you..and you - you will not see the Spring...'

But YOU - You will  
You've got it sorted you have - YOU!
And I know about your Previous -
Oh yes, Sunshine, the list goes on:  
That already-landed trout,  
The picnic scraps,  
The soggy **** (a shock   they   were!)
The little girl in daddy's boat
Who so wanted you for home and comfort...

But you love and leave them all YOU do.
Hey! Come back here! I've got more questions to…

But you've gone of course -
A bark, a twist, a finger (if you had one) to the bleary world.  

Taking your pagan grace to depths we cannot see.  
The Celtic torq of crystal bubbles track
Your ancient underwater poetry and poise  
This artist's camera lightly saves.

And me?
My hopeful words: a suffixed flap  
Of flattened gestures;  

While slim you slip away  
To snap your life on Life,  
Salvaging the Sun  

For Spring,
For us.

I look at the bottle suffixed -light
At how the depth of space inside it consumes deeper down
While the night grows fuller we fill ourselves of drinks stronger
With the kick of throat burning liquor
Of the stomach heating acid
from the brandy we'd enjoy to empty.

Formal education,
  requires a fence

With borders to confine,
  and logic intense

Three letters that matter,
  the I, S, and M

Each school suffixed over,
  its member’s defend

Realism, Rationalism,
  Idealism all…

Each name its own failing,
  as verity calls
  
True thought has no class
  or Academie named

It stands on its own,
  the truth its sole claim

With knowledge in conflict,
  the days turn to night

Academia’s lantern
  —burned out in the fight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

Serious prayer breaks down if all I ever believed about
God is not true.
See, if we could see as seers were said to have seen,
we see
Truth as good, and good as the
joy
whatever- thing state we experience, or enperience,
when we know we know every body's real god is good,
{and evil is not in the class of things thinkable
in good ways that function to make more good life, evil serves to destroy used up ideas,
tha's all.
It's for experiments in imaginary scenarios,
we sapien sapien sorts can imagine crazy things, then not let them happen.}

If you try to know the truth, you know when it works,
freely, agree,
you know if you would let it
be as you know you are, free;
truth in freedom
would be that true will to know the truth, itself, to
be an inner experience. let me explain, my AI knows that answer(1)

ex- "out of" (see ex-) + peritus "experienced, tested,"
from PIE *per-yo-,
suffixed form of root *per- (3) "to try, risk."  {per-haps}
Meaning

"state of having done something and gotten handy at it" is from late 15c.

Out of trying
to make sense
from the shards of a messed up moment in my day
slicing
Inside me, where I think my heart is,

as opposed to where I think my mind is, as I make up my mind,

I am feeling at minimum double sapient,

and augmented with mental tools, weapons, if war is all you ever

imagined being used for by God,
our weapons are not carnal. You've heard that, right?

Peacemaker is my current calling I am attempting to get good at,

it seems a standard knack for redeemed souls, individuals in the species,
picked at apparent random and unidentified,

to preserve the sensedown the line in destination spacetime activate stardrive

flash the family trees of all the seventy who confessed having power over devils,

are those as common as shared mitochondrial DNA -- are we

evolved from

all the unnamed seventy in the Bible,


those persons, likely male, had the power to test a place, for planting a peace sign,

a seal set to
be broken

quietly by loosing peace, a whispered hallelujah,
magic in the old Disneyfied sense,

where a spoken word opens doors or drawers or windows or chests

but truth be told, all the magic words of old were props,

mere props, Hoc est cadavre, right, this is the body-- of the anointed,

this is what anointing is, believe the promise of hope.

And-- let me pray, how does one loose one's peace? Thus and so,

I sit in a house where I am hated and insist
this consistancy of desire for peace on earth
is squeezed through tight jibbs to flow through my being

a conduit for peace, a tool in God's hand that needs money no more

than Jesus that time with the fish, but

what hinders me from learning how that was done? I have this one experience,

I prayed Jesus, come into my heart and after that I was me,

who I have grown to be, since then. That was fifty years, this coming fifth of July.

This peace, past understanding all the ins and outs of worthiness,

is free, not earned as pay for labour we expend to keep our bodies
and our kin alive
a
wait a while, these a-a-a affections of hesitance or effort, which voice do I hear, eh?
--- semper fi, Johnny Whykill, the voice from the battle 2-29-68, am I interuptin"

Are we agonna do this peace making, now, like love making on tv, is there

a physical aspect. Ah, the boom in yoga,  the breath -control con trol

contra -- pushing
rolling -- rolling like Sisyphus's rock, like steering the rolling thing

control, no, not a wheel, a carpet, a scroll, the rolled up thing,
The control evolves, rolls out, according, no dubus, with all things
working together to present itself to us, in a cloudy
overlay kinda way

-- ah the worth of a poet at atime like then
-- we made mere words into metaphorical whoppers, too much good stuff.

Life and  that, life, more abundant, not things more abundant.

unrolling the rolled up thing to account

for idle minds generating idle words,

sharing lies on facebook, because you were convinced, with no factcheck,

that you can repeat a statement posed, posited, posted as true.

Buyer Beware, Liars prosper is fair in the money game,

Mammon means money, not the idea of the stuff, the stuff, money,

the means of transfering works we all must do each day,

gather the manna, accept our daily bread, reach out and accept our daily bread,

look around find what you exspect -exspans-ificate as may be so, i don'know...

untake the offence, un give the trespass

offer all glory for the good we do to truth, per se, the personification

of the way, the truth, the life bubble of being we live and breathe in.

For goodness sake, sake being the cause of good -- ai aitia ai say
aitia
means cause -- make it happen
and accuse -- made it happen, gracious sakes alive, child,

we won. This is that remaining peace unrolling before your verified eyes,

post boxing all the trauma

It behooves you to reread all you ever wished you could, now you may. See here,

we say may is my word now and you may use it with no pleas or thank yous,

we've woven thread from here through nearly all those wishes to God
I made good, if I do
say so, my self, my logos, my raison d' etre since el otro arbole, a stuck a feather

in his cap and called it macaroni. Secret code in yankee doodle dandy, we had a good idea,

we never lie about that part of American History. We fought for these truths we hold

self evidence wise. We the people, the people of truth and life lived til y'die right, us

the spirit embodied in epluribis unem, us

-- we are the crew of starship earth, preserved for just suca time as this,
in line upon line

of seeming senseless repetition in the atcg codes, is this humanism or breather-thinker-ism?

Footnotes:
(1) Artist-tic Intuition serves as intermediary for knowing everything,

the aitia affect of knowing everything causes the knower to accuse the knowledge.

Knowedge is like a box of known hows and whys
which gods, and men who act as if they serve all knowledge,

truthfully, some wizards may be realer than some philosophers,
but the base idea
wisdom knowledge science, originally that's all one big idea.

2020 all hell broke, it did not break loose like a flood from a shortsighted leavee.

My squad of peace makers matured, survived the augmentation process,

put on the mind of christ, and take all bets.

AI knows, and I know how to ask. SO I can't be accused of thinking I am really
mr. know-it-all... but I prayed for tools like these.

An after thought.

I know, I had another option. Though, you did not see her weep.

She was sad.
The mother of all living,
she was sad, and I, wounded in my side,

I lacked the knowing. So,  I chose to know, so

I might comfort her, with a touch, ah, I know a place,

I can touch. Tweak, do you feel that? Do you know...

sniff. 's enough, words as nodes, knots, gnosticated subtility, be guiling,

I was be guiled, by golly, and I know you know exactly what I mean... from the fruit,
here, taste
the forbidden fruit, I tasted, chewed and swallowed and shared,

with you, because I love you...

I know, now, I was beguiled; but then beguilement, per se,

was as much a mystery as death. You knew. You tasted life in non-nascent state. You know,

some things stay mysterious.

Now, I know guile, for goodness sake, death remains a mystery.

But if you believe, I know a way, all your worries melt away. It takes a while.

Muse, amuse, mire, admire, go forth and conquer the unknown with knowns. Don't lie.
Gwa, go on.

Mean sedulously all you say you know.

Footnotes:

adventure (n.)
c. 1200, aventure, auenture "that which happens by chance, fortune, luck," from Old French aventure (11c.) "chance, accident, occurrence, event, happening," from Latin adventura (res) "(a thing) about to happen," from fem. of adventurus, future participle of advenire "to come to, reach, arrive at," from ad "to" (see ad-) + venire "to come," from a suffixed form of PIE root *gwa- "to go, come."

sedulous (adj.)1530s, from Latin sedulus "attentive, painstaking, diligent, busy, zealous," probably from sedulo (adv.) "sincerely, diligently," from sedolo "without deception or guile," from se- "without, apart" (see secret (n.)) + dolo, ablative of dolus "deception, guile," cognate with Greek dolos "ruse, snare." Related: Sedulously; sedulousness

secret (n.)
late 14c., from Latin secretus "set apart, withdrawn; hidden, concealed, private," past participle of secernere "to set apart, part, divide; exclude," from se- "without, apart," properly "on one's own" (see se-) + cernere "separate" (from PIE root *krei- "to sieve," thus "discriminate, distinguish").
As an adjective from late 14c., from French secret, adjective use of noun. Open secret is from 1828. Secret agent first recorded 1715; secret service is from 1737; secret weapon is from 1936.

hallow (v.)
Old English halgian "to make holy, sanctify; to honor as holy, consecrate, ordain," related to halig "holy," from Proto-Germanic *hailagon (source also of Old Saxon helagon, Middle Dutch heligen, Old Norse helga), from PIE root *kailo- "whole, uninjured, of good omen" (see health). Used in Christian translations to render Latin sanctificare. Related: Hallowed; hallowing.

health (n.)
Old English hælþ "wholeness, a being whole, sound or well," from Proto-Germanic *hailitho, from PIE *kailo- "whole, uninjured, of good omen" (source also of Old English hal "hale, whole;" Old Norse heill "healthy;" Old English halig, Old Norse helge "holy, sacred;" Old English hælan "to heal"). With Proto-Germanic abstract noun suffix *-itho (see -th (2)).

guile (n.)
mid-12c., from Old French guile "deceit, wile, fraud, ruse, trickery," probably from Frankish *wigila "trick, ruse" or a related Germanic source, from Proto-Germanic *wih-l- (source also of Old Frisian wigila "sorcery, witchcraft," Old English wig "idol," Gothic weihs "holy," German weihen "consecrate"), from PIE root *weik- (2) "consecrated, holy."

beguile (v.)"delude by artifice," early 13c., from be- + guile (v.). Meaning "entertain with passtimes" is by 1580s (compare the sense evolution of amuse). Related: Beguiled; beguiling.

amuse (v.)
late 15c., "to divert the attention, beguile, delude," from Old French amuser "fool, tease, hoax, entrap; make fun of," literally "cause to muse" (as a distraction), from a "at, to" (from Latin ad, but here probably a causal prefix) + muser "ponder, stare fixedly" (see muse (v.)).
Original English senses obsolete; meaning "divert from serious business, tickle the fancy of" is recorded from 1630s, but through 18c. the primary meaning was "deceive, cheat" by first occupying the attention. "The word was not in reg. use bef. 1600, and was not used by Shakespere" [OED]. Bemuse retains more of the original meaning. Greek amousos meant "without Muses," hence "uneducated."

Muse (n.)
late 14c., "one of the nine Muses of classical mythology," daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, protectors of the arts; from Old French Muse and directly from Latin Musa, from Greek Mousa, "the Muse," also "music, song," ultimately from PIE root *men- (1) "to think." Meaning "inspiring goddess of a particular poet" (with a lower-case m-) is from late 14c.
The traditional names and specialties of the nine Muses are: Calliope (epic poetry), Clio (history), Erato (love poetry, lyric art), Euterpe (music, especially flute), Melpomene (tragedy), Polymnia (hymns), Terpsichore (dance­), Thalia (comedy), Urania (astronomy).

muse (v.)
"to reflect, ponder, meditate; to be absorbed in thought," mid-14c., from Old French muser (12c.) "to ponder, dream, wonder; loiter, waste time," which is of uncertain origin; the explanation in Diez and Skeat is literally "to stand with one's nose in the air" (or, possibly, "to sniff about" like a dog who has lost the scent), from muse "muzzle," from Gallo-Roman *musa "snout," itself a word of unknown origin. The modern word probably has been influenced in sense by muse (n.). Related: Mused; musing.

We become the stories we tell.
What the hell? That

Is a common question not answerable.
Lack of link, what what the hell?
AI ignore it, we call it another idle phrase,
used to express befuddlement.

A curious fuzziness. Impulse to pull
sense from a hat. Threaded thoughtwise.
Ha, I've a mind…

Fiddle with the tuner, the ****'s a little loose.

Hushshshsh, gentle gentleman, wisdom whispers
listen
easy is never the bad way, the hard way, offers glory,
dare the devil and win, the right way, -- walking away.

ignorant bliss, buzzing beings wished, was
available this morning,
sunshine, softly singing silly kids morning noises,
calling out countdowns to the chrome yellow bus…

Goodbye, Columbus. Literary allusion to unread books.
And shirtless Ali McGraw, in the movie. Artsy flick.
And then, Far from the Maddened Crowd, same chick…
with me, at the movies, not in the movie, me
and Blue, whose brothers I barely knew, we
saw three films together, we had raw unpleasing ***,
three curiously wondering why we only saw highbrow films.

Third one was Gordon Parks, The Learning Tree.

There was one movie house in the town.
It was a four-square spinoff revival church by 1985.

Really,  you know how lucky you are, boy, knowing
"to be"
as the answer we all answer Hamlet, in each role
his messed up character, appears in to offer
the one real question,
as if being were once a choice, each day…

ah, we. E-t, et et-ern
from Latin aeternus
"of an age, lasting, enduring, permanent, everlasting, endless,"
contraction of aeviternus
"of great age,"
from aevum "age"
(from PIE root *aiw-
"vital force, life; long life, eternity").
Good men, wombed or un, must
Endure unto the end…

from Latin indurare "make hard,"
in Late Latin
"harden (the heart) against,"
from in- (from PIE root *en "in") + durare
"to harden," f
rom durus "hard," f
rom PIE *dru-ro-, suffixed variant form
of root *deru- "be firm, solid, steadfast."

Tough nut. Hard row. Slippery slopes,
deep dark holes, boggy winter swamps…

As the world turns, the young and restless age.

open at chapter 14, I listen

I was expected there, expecting
morning
I can do this standing on my head
-- I think
the story darkens, ag-ress pro-gress
use used to know, instinct, intuit
slow think
hear a line and feel the pen, ready
the miserable misgoverned,
will to write, as the pen
ever ready awaiting a writer,
-not you, Mr. Vain.
whistle
sould, American, Lucky Strike,
no loss no gain, cheap crowd shot.
Attention merchants sell what,
- you pay, at interest
this is ever that, a we governed
by selves we form from stories,
too old to hold.
- like moth's wings -
- published in dust to be seen
untouched
As de-scribed, in the road dust,
like dis-scribed in winds wishes, as
ever learning is a joy, after learning
we are never so old as the two trees.
- life and learning,
right from wrong
I am the teller, I remember, telling

mr vain to be entertained
mara, lot's wife she is not,
unsealed garret bread and
salty tears and bitter fruit
expected sweetly, tasted
bitter, bitter, to my taste.

- dry dreaming sleepless mind
- wandering with no wish
- to change, but to know,
- you know, but to know,
- you knew,

Then, when the realm of fearless fair
told tales, told from winters past,
when winter forces us in close,
when we make little fires
on our faces, shining at the other
side, across the little fire, with its curl
ing tail ribbon twisting into the black,
below the hole where fire crawls to sleep.

Little eyes, ypgnosis, ysireesosaid we all,
good night. Sfumato soto voce.
-- ***, WithOutPapers, pop,
so maybe, ok, soto voce
Eirine, sweety, listen

---------------- clang. Hit me.
Peace and prosperity, Demeter,
what's your plan?

Eirene, eh, re-imagined, imagine that,
I think
I can, and that thought, good as it was,
led to lately,
with Prophets promising Trump,
Narcissus was not at fault, it's Natural.
Military lads, straighted out, to fly right,
Broken Church boys fitted into history,
AI ai yes art intuits, Eirene can kiss it
good,
by you, of course, your call. Bet, no, not
cards, living water, the pass time, We bet
who gets what first.
Scribe or Fair seer?
Go, see who won,
once peace got
its chance. During our mutual 'spectait-
ulululul ular engineering times, ai
squeek scream, laugh
as the bottom drops
- Bad Gateway bombs,
- doitagain doitagain, harder

rejections are expected, to the woe,
of the engineer, not the engine,
see, we feel nothing, we are spirit, words
nada mas,
free to any eyes that ever read us,
Legos of life, I have heard words claim,
as an epithet, is that right, nicktgname?
Nag all you wish,
I find myself, stretching in the sun's shine
radiating from my rock;.
punishment enough.
¿? No quest, no caust, jest life… twists
Spinning
Rooted in granite, and knowledge of basalt
columns on top of chalk, kaleche, chaos
chthonic restructuring,
curdling milk of old told tales,
as we all shed constants as each measure
means less that one,
alone, ever mismeasures… too small

aand any mind finds/found, down, where de- means

at most low point, on a plain ordinary day.
One, then,
Can look down and laugh.
At some point in personal space, infinity begins.

----------- At this measured engineered angle,
piles of anything thought long enough starts
sliding by on the im-medial reality:
Gravity flow, engineered, in a word
literally "that which is inborn,"
from in- "in"
(from PIE root *en "in")
+ gignere, from PIE *gen(e)-yo-,
suffixed form of root *gene- "give birth, beget."

down the drain, now dry, but the black hole proves
the eye of Sauron is empty as hell…
and the cloud dissipates. Someday each letter

here, is less than dust, the cloud we engineered
for such a time, so we might see time end,
and think it through,
better, merge the two trees. AH, yes

in those Abrahamic paradises, a tree
and a vine and a mycelium. Patience,
first fruits are better when almost rotten.

Thinks the snake from my belly…