12:12

ready.
steady.
go. time
flows. years
go past so fast
after a certain point...
(gravity again methinks)
space related to time, the uni-
verse a grid. swimming through it.
rivers of it.

i passed it. i keep popping up in
different locations, wondering
when the future me will con-
tact me. tacky. wacky.

wandering the halls up here.
the ever present moon-
base mentioned enough
you begin to wonder if it
just might be real after-
all.

raw, unfinished poetry.
where are the readers?
where are the writers?
where are those who
comment only? where
are those who lurk and
read in their bathrobes.

other directions in this
timeline i see before me -
this way, that way, weigh
that - heavy thoughts.

the people,
the people,
the people who
didn't want it or were
too apathetic - for those
people.

news is poetry
of many levels
coming together
but beyond the
technology it is
the primary relat-
ionship (again)
that's important.

splitting thoughts.
uber compartmentalizer.
mental? maybe. her eyes.
rhymes wrapped around visual
sounds. can't repeat it, can't ex-
plain it. no seeds. or onions, please.
none of those. planes to places
full of mazes and it amazes
me to see so many beats
so many bits, so many
bytes. don't listen if
i'm rude or snobby
the poet in-crowd
of the under-ground
is sometimes like that.

i don't shed a tear for MUG
tonight. i know the successor
will be better. eventually. back
to many paths being open to me.
i see. i see so far (away) and, so far,
i see the me the world sees and the me
inside me ready to break free and out onto
the world stage, bandied about, talked through
and through. 20 comments to one on some
blog or another. smothering myself with
the dream tonight and you know what
that means, or you should if you
follow all the syllables i've let
fall over the years. all the
tears in the space time
fabric i've walked
through, narrowly
escaping. creation.

the mind.
the body.

12:34
tuning
into the
soundwaves
escaping planet
earth via the intra-
web the humans have
managed to construct in-
between wars amongst them-
selves. cells of autumn. a
question. the water. the
thirst. boxes with draw-
ers to keep things in.

rambling.

just another
day.

another way
to say maybe
it's continuing
somehow it will
work itself out as
i always imagine it
will. in the midst of
time you have to
concentrate on
the now not
the past or
possible futures
or you'll slip on the
ceiling and fall to the
floor. not laughing.