So its three out of three.' From Tolstoy
i see, though I cannot meet him.'
My estimations
Already greet him, he questions the vehicle? Of shakespears position in a the Literal strastophere' he probes at what; why.? To me its clear.' Well clearer than the
Authenticity, of many writes and plays that
Be? Credited to this personage, a pen for hire..I Must here see' encouraged by the king, and others he espoused, crossdress and also sordid scenes.' All true not work of my pen.' Much such; from his quill did stream.? Or maybe less.? He was' or is not? Though Oxmoronically rendered' to history, and students, as universally ubiquitous extended; quite as can be,
the effect of many a smeared ink blot.)
I don't believe that
one can measure love --
subjective as it is selective
don't believe one can time
love -- schedule and depot
all its own
can't give it a firm reference number
one's so-called all-knowing, reliable
Smart Phone
(only a naive fool would think that love
is intelligent)
ether with you...or alone --
however, love is always compassionate
and sharing~ while forever remaining
a mystery as to its true method of divine
pairing
(all will be said of love
or not said~ not debatable,
its painful, confounding silence)
often usurped by evil -- falsely
accused, love the protagonist
of, not only all healing, but
man's abundance of violence --
You said happiness
Is easy, 'til I saw black
Paint that blocked my guess.
conjecture rumor
gateway to another star
are you listening
Be the bee within the bees bonnet pouring
Not as old man in his slumber snoring
For soon the bees of honey do partake
And late the old man stands his last awake
Come comb your honey hair as sunny fair the day
Come bonny boy and toy not hour away
For in the garden by the gate your destiny awaits
And you may sow the early earth
in straight or crooked plaits
For high yon mighty oak where sun streams lightly
Breaking shade with measured days of gold
Beneath the canopy of stars formed nightly
Your memory’s youthful life exchanged for old
I have walked your many steps , run with wheels a turning
Squandered youth and mis-pent truth; left ashen life a-burning
So be the bee and by the by be captured in the poets eye
And all of this and all of that and all before you die.
Entropy evaporating
into itself
Birthing an ending
—singular truth
(Villanova Pennsylvania: Tribute To Stephen Hawking October, 2020)
woulds coulds maybes and mights
'til unproven saysos are found to be right
best .... hold tongues stil & tight
Made a suggestion,
And Lecture on Conjecture;
Did blow many minds.
Jim Horn
ask me why there's green slime
coming out of the spigot in the center of the cemetery
and ask me why i installed a faucet
when i don't know how to
Yes, you do...
ask me why i've cut shapes into my nail beds
so that when my nails grow
there's a pattern of arches in a ladder on them
with no vertical lines
only repeated semicircles that come for years and years
Like latitude lines! around the Earth...
ask me why
outside the door, you heard me talking for hours
when there was no one else in the room
and you stayed and listened because you thought it was funny
you told me telepathically
but you don't remember
well, i never remember anything
That's okay, we all don't...
(Except for me! I remember everything...)
so ask me why
i hear vehicle sounds
come through one ear and out the other
at 4 am when i'm lying in bed
i'm lying
and my father is in our light gray basement
cutting wood and knick-knacks
but i hear aliens, not power saws
Slow down! I don't understand...
and my dad doesn't cut wood
Why do you blabber on and on?
and doesn't even own a power saw
i know, i've tried to find it
Speculations do not equate to firm beliefs ever,
If you kindly take that into your consideration;
Never was a theory verified now without, either,
Conjectures and notions have an internal relation.
-Pin Dew (03/05/2017)
A
look
of love-
perhaps her Dad-
a hint of Lisa,just a tad
Vermeers -A girl with a Pearl Earring c 1665
Jan's firs daughter Maria was born 1654.
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