Zap, zap squared

whatever abundance before the eye rests under that spirit of being guided through the wall after waiting through dry periods when you’ve voiced those personal, esoteric why must it be myself or the other when feeling a drawing away to that which I alone happen to sense when working and nodded without anticipating any fulfillment except in so many conjectures now absolutely engaged in the hand of accomplishment you definitely pursue now so romantic exciting perhaps with some overlap perhaps you too understand

Quoting from a master of secret teachings

here you perceive it’s not within my nature to offer any spoken contention in the row of bricks other craftsmen would so often enwrap in false modesty if you can tolerate canned soup or a vulcanized cheese omelet, well, then you’ll also observe how turning together after so many years  maybe occupied with survival in the rarified air the conundrum by God becomes devotion

Chuckles, anyway

knock, knock, in the name of the law in the Name of Jesus let us pray together naming and claiming in either case not quite the letter but the spirit of authority bet your life beginning as a child traversing the expanse of your own moniker with some Divine confrontation and wonder, as they’d say, Warmly with the chattering monkeys

Kinisi 113

Once upon a time I thought I would have children with the woman of my dreams who would grow old with me.

Once upon a time I would have had a Rolls Royce or at least a Mercedes.

Once upon a time I would have lived in a city where I could ride subways
and subscribe to the opera.

Once upon a time I would have never believed in dragons.

Whatayasay Dusty

of heaven and earth and so right at the moment this righteousness struck a relationship without a tinge of merely imagined fragrance closer and more real, the daily repetition overflows into a sink of unwashed dishes of confusing lion and the lamb of dilemmas, paradoxes, even tedious crosscurrents the Adversary complicates a profusion of weeds just doesn’t ring clear the first time around oh, my poor memory, in callous fingers clutching whatever

Lovely and Corky

not exactly anywhere dutiful in all my difficulty gearing up for minor chores regular folks seem to enjoy defining their lives thereby at least scrubbing their ass break back to poverty, Dharma! would be scouring the bathtub one morning or a manuscript or adding oil to the leaky BMW such a thrill put aside long enough it evaporates two months overdue or just punctuates existence, the vacuum of rooms of the mind or the plate and so if one makes other things wait, yes, the grass grows or leaves fall in all that running as in down some sewer of household drain, so how would you handle a valet or fulltime maid