Reflections on Dishonesty and Hatred

The grooves of life held but not long for this state. The green leaves placed just long enough. The poet, a national villian, who keeps to his piece. The hymnal, just out, a windy blowing just across one lot. A promise made to the citizenry: One day they’ll all come home; we will live together again. There are the ones who are writing this all, and also the ones running pickups. 

A heart beats as its progeny wishes. Lifelong habituals, quickly speared and de-cycled. Time which is unto itself–the crypt and its keeper’s royal ordainment. A life beyond its own presence–a new motion arc. 

Not any dueling set. Just life stuck in a place. A whirling similar.

April 2

For some reason writing isn’t the plaid fortune it was before. I guess I used to bunker down in and kick away at one of the drafts. That system, since dismantled, hasn’t been replaced. 

There are things I care about, that I could write of in detail. Saying how and why, the particulars, what it makes of the life I lead. However, those things are not of interest. How do I make statements that bear the spirit of our shared existence?

The things that are the most difficult tend to have the most resonance. Posts are frequently rote regurgitations. But lifeblood stuff is not so easy to identify. It escapes and lingers ever after. 

So what is the same about this year and the last? I lack the pressure of the made… but what is the same? I put myself on, and make my way through..

2023-05-08

There is a nice way to characterize the life that is both led and desired. All those involved will face the eminent consequence 

I’m not saying the beauty should limit our aspirations or lifelong physical demands

Our nicest processes say unequivocally there is a great beauty found outside our soul (our one and only)

Rounding the demonic curve, you know how to swerve away, a completed fullness of itself… Not so quick this time..