…is it time to get it off your ass?
How often do
you think of tree
when you finish
a poop or pee?
Go deep when you
ask if water
or leaves make a
better blotter?
For the world it
is an issue
how we use up
all that tissue.
Consider Earth!
Think, “Kiss my ass”
when paper cleans
your ‘underclass.’
NOTE: Why do I write “shit” poetry? Because, thanks to TBTL, I have awareness of a product known as Tushy (www.hellotushy.com).
What is TBTL? What is Tushy?
Why does Google start with “go” and end with “gle(e)?”
…and one “Suppose…?”
What if…everyone alive on the Earth donated their coin of lowest value to Save the Children?
What if…I scrape my content from medium.com, print it on recyclable paper, and bury it?
What if…all media stopped giving airtime to the immediate former president of the U.S.?
What if…because…
Might as well solve something….
Is there some irrelevant solving you’d like to do?
1. In 1884, Edwin Abbott2 wrote Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions. Why is his last name squared?
2. The novel by Linda Heart, written in 2012 titled Mrs. Velvet and the Blue String Theory has an unusual style in its table of contents. …
Mercury in
retrograde throws
lots of twists in
underclothes.
Four steps back and
two steps forward?
Time to choose the
perfect swearword!
So, bide your time
and pull your weeds
to contemplate
our cosmic seeds.
When you plan it
by the planets
it’s like peeling
pomegranates.
NOTE: Astrology is only as real as you make it. Or…as it makes you!
…because love is algebra.
As this floater
in the Dead Sea
is teaching well
concept of free
you wonder how
it feels to know
your deepest self
between the flow
of head and heart
and congestion
alone or joined
you still question
the fall of love
the rise in joy.
It’s your last word —
it’s my envoi.
NOTE: Are you thinking about love?
Well…stop!
Think about joy.
Love is solid geometry.
Joy is sacred geometry.
Remember a kiss, then look at the sky.
Doing so will make as much sense as this poem.
…just to ask, “What is prayer?”
Hot breath whispered
urgent prayer
to the Mother
of everywhere.
Believe believed
‘cause history
preserved and taught
her mystery.
Full of grace and
Lord and women
Mother of God
sing her hymn in
Church at vespers…
or don’t bother.
Just assume with
an “Our Father.”
NOTE: What is prayer?
In…
…in light of a terror-versary
Use your lenses —
it’s time to see
you and mass in
ubiquity.
Us means every
person, place, thing
related through
linguistic string.
Up, and down, bends
your perspective.
How holds your heart
this collective?
Unity is
what I write of!
Unity is
sense raised in love.
NOTE: Acts of terror, after time, curve memory. Hold them in the curve.
…on meditation and hypnosis to achieve a state of calm
Medinosis
i make plans to
excogitate
instead i go
absquatulate
good intentions
are like good luck
they erode like
Taktoyaktuk
a state of calm
does brain relieve
yet getting there
is tough achieve
the med-to-tate
is difficult…
test hypnosis
for clear result
Hypnotation
i make plans to
brain-alchemize
when i need to…
…an answer f0r Roz Warren’s recent question about mon3y made on m3dium
How much money
has passed between
medium, me,
and cash machine?
Zero dollars.
Exactly no
cents (or pesos) — a
loss ratio.
Look how I give
and give give give
keep on giving
to social sieve!
Am I stupid
about exchange?
My investment:
an eühange.
NOTE: Eühange is German for “old.” It’s got three syllables, so drag it out as “eee who hang-ee.” This poem doesn’t really make any sense. But then again, does writing on medium? For me, it does. I just like to write. And I love to read…(especially what Roz Warren writes; her post inspired this … uh… nonsense)! I love words. I have trouble with numbers (and they have trouble with me). Money is number-y. Words are just … free.
And I am “old,” but that is OK. I’ve earned that status!
An unusual visit
Worm on window?
Yes, it did crawl
up the clean glass
pane’s wailing wall.
Worm seeking wood?
So far from source!
Environment…
veering off course?
Worm asking why?
Yet defying
physics to be
mystifying.
Worm: a warning?
Or…a request?
Need of witness
amidst breakfast?
NOTE: Early this morning while we were dining at the breakfast table, there were several small green worms crawling up the kitchen window. Why? Across the courtyard are the vines they likely want as habitat. What appeal did the glass offer?
