He wo motto took a shield for the bettering of
Boy bubble kev
Upper right flange damage severe ordinance requirement of lifeline preserve cartography blissed out
Gregory Hines session energetic time card!
Do the leaves of our cups also turn yellow ?
The rooms of green grass collect cobwebs
From the Kafkaesque vermin, fly away cuckoos
Questions galore in the river's tide and ebb
____________________
September 5, 2025
Total passivity
Seems to me a relevant strategy
To confront the humiliation that is offered to the large
But some would say small world of askers
All kinds of believers in their right to demand something
Who can’t stop asking and expect hoping
Don't ask, don’t beg and don't ingratiate
This is what they expect from you
To bring you down forever
At best case scenario
Applicants are put in line
For a bowl of mushroom soup with crackers
Do what they don't expect
Don't do anything, don't ask
And I promise you the time will come
When it will be their turn to ask
Let them ask and they’ll answer themselves
Gradually there’ll be more questions
But the answers will be fewer and simpler
The sunrises and sunsets will come and go
Silence will produce the most pleasant of problems
You can share it on facebook
How to make the neat little bin
For the used tea bags.
Success is gratitude
For answering people's questions
Including those that were not asked
But implied.
And those unsaid questions, I believe
Are the most important
Artists, who are gifted with answers
On which the life of the perceiver sometimes depends
Receive the success they deserve
Fortunate is the human
Who is blessed with answers
Happy is the artist
Who gives back their gift.
Winter storm.
Question marks
fall like snow
on shoulders bent
with seeking.
Hollow caverns
where certainty
once lived
echo chambers
of why.
Face pressed
against cold glass.
Fingertips trace
what cannot
be grasped.
Footsteps
soft on unseen paths.
Autumn leaves
crumble
in cupped palms.
Dreams, half-formed,
scatter
like dust
through fingers
that cannot hold.
Shell splits.
Light finds
the crack,
makes home
in broken space.
Seeds
in soil dark
with surrender.
Emptiness,
the deepest cup.
Time spirals.
Winter storm,
spring light
dancers
forever entwined.
Seasons turn.
Seeking becomes
soil.
Purpose
in the endless round.
Morning
breaks endless night.
Golden light
spills through spaces
carved by questions.
Rain-clear words
unfold.
Dark landscapes
reveal their faces.
Stumbling
was beauty.
Coffee steams
in morning cups.
Mystery
becomes
the ground we stand on.
Sacred spaces
hold golden light
poured by doubt's
careful carving.
We are
spiral dancers:
asking,
answered,
broken,
filled,
home.
QUESTIONS POETS AND WRITERS ASK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On my laptop’s screen, words twist and twine,
I ponder, “Is this plot truly mine?”
With a character's frown,
Will my story break down?
Or will sadness and joy combine?
As I scribble, “What rhymes with orange?”
I chuckle, “Should my hero be foreign?”
With a coffee mug in hand,
And a notebook quite grand,
I wonder, “Should my villain be boring?”
“Is this twist too much, or just right?”
“Will they cheer, or will they take flight?”
With each question I pen,
I just laugh twice again,
For the joy of it all feels quite right!
I hear again and again, of people searching for what is real,
Looking for the answers that they seek is like climbing up a hill.
Their truth and their authentic self, they seldom if ever will find,
If all they do is listen to others and never use their mind.
Based on the things I’ve seen and heard; this is my simple conclusion.
The things we observe with our physical eyes are the illusion.
The answers to all the questions we have are safely hid inside.
Thoughts that are both eternal and true always within us abide.
Each of us must follow our heart and our path we will discover,
Listen within to the voice of our soul, clues we will uncover.
Step by step, the path we will follow, trusting it is the right way.
We’ll live in the present, learn the lessons provided every day.
Thoughts On War Questions
When is war righteous?
Isn’t murder a crime?
Does not war murder?
Can’t collateral
Death be a crime too?:
War can’t be righteous;
Murder is a crime:-
Wars do have murders,
Collateral deaths
Can be murders also:-
I stand here gazing at stars in the sky,
Wondering what happens when I die?
It’s harder to see with my own eye,
The purpose of life as it passes by.
First, I’ll consider the where, when, and why?
Who or what it was, that caused my goodbye?
What was important, whether girl or guy?
A purposeful life, or is that a lie?
Was it important, the people I knew?
Or all the things I did or didn’t do?
Was it what I learned as my knowledge grew?
Or what I passed on, at least to a few?
To many questions I could clearly see,
My purpose in life was I became me.
I see the wind
And hear the sun
And when it hurts
I have such fun
I know not when
But the where is sure
The reasons are clear
Though fully obscure
Thoughts I suffer
The long night through
Bring such comfort
How is this true
Confusion reigns
Within thoughts clear
And peace so far
And yet so near
I can feel it
Though I’m completely numb
My mind subtracts
To find the sum
The answers are certain
The questions unclear
How much longer
Must I
remain here
Astronauts sleep like bats
Hanging from the ceiling in bags
But this does not tell us about astro-cats
Do they sleep in cots made of rags?
What about astro-dogs and astro-pigs?
Are their bunks teeny or the biggest of the bigs?
Has there yet been an astro-horse?
Political correctness says there should be one of course.
- Echo ~ the witness who talked too much - quote by poet
a mournful echo
sounds swamped my pulsating heart -
do not repeat them
empty room - masonry wall
historic bells from gray peaks
Was it fairytale wishes that come in threes,
or curses that bring you to your knees?
Does that gentle, warm summer breeze
blow through bodies that hang from trees?
Does it waft the tinkle of a wedding bell
or the howling hounds of Hell?
Have you ever tried choking? He asked nonchalantly.
“No,” she said. *with a wrinkled nose of disapproval*
“Want to try it?” *His approach couldn't hide his excitement*
“Ok,” she said, absent mindedly running her index finger over his lips.
“you can choke me,” she added slowly,
“if I can stab you repeatedly
with the 7 inch stainless steel
nail-file I keep under my pillow.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
Better By Myself by Hey Violet
She's two fish swimming
in opposite directions
and physically incapable
of answering my questions
always on the stick's wrong end
yet not to harp or carp
but I'm forever on the opposite
that which is pointed sharp
would I enquire of the right one
it's the left natator who replies
with something unrelated
from out of yonder wild blue skies
and not knowing which will respond
altho' I have my theories
with only what makes sense to me
is how I phrase my queries
but as none have even been addressed
it's become a chore &/or task
I could give in let her win
and evermore simply shouldn't ask
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