One watches in the platter and the cup

One watches oil slicks in the platter pass.

One watches mental clouds light up the cup

or darken it, as case may be, as Hell

and Heaven flow into the free willed feed

of one who should not trust one's mental voice

to be exactly what it claims to be.

The devils have a field day with the ones

who trust their mental voices to be them.

They dress up in your mental voices like

internal stridency and foul-mouthed pride

and caricatured neighbors easier

to hate than accurate depictions with

their object constancy could possibly

be hated. They access your memories,

and draw from these the ones agreeing with

their evil loves, to grumble with and hate.

They summon memories recurrently

to feed the classes of their sins in life;

a sort of hate track into which we dip.

We writhe, provisionally dipped in flame

and flood. Therefore be grateful every day

that devils' race car, your own mental voice,

may ever jolt across a judder bar

and run into a hitch, shown up by love.

Rebuke uncleanness in the passing heart.

Rebuke the shadows in the passing mind.

Drive out the Canaanite and Perizzite

of filths and bloods, of sin and error, dead

men's bones and all uncleanness, moth and rust.

Thus will we cease to jam the Joyful One

with sins that put out eyes of captured kings.

Thus will we cease to jam the living joy

of He whose flesh and blood we eat and drink.

Couplets on the Nonexistence of Democracy

The Senators don't even read the laws they vote upon.

Bills flash right by those sluggish Senators and then they're gone.

That means your government is hardly representative

at all but oligarchic. Lest mere argumentative

intentions be imputed to one, one would here aver

that Roman Senators would vote for Emperors when those were

as though these had that choice that we presume. Bills flash on by,

like scudding cumuli that one might witness way up high;

they zip right past those Senatorial attention spans.

Effectively, these mainly stamp a code upon the cans.

The cans pass far too swiftly to read labels, don't you see.

Don't blame us for the teleprompter is their earnest plea.

Well, we'll accept their plea, that of the follow-orders gang

as well, because the Devil answered when our stampede rang.

Left/Right Goat/Sheep West/East, He-Goat/Ram

The glitter in rose gravel of the shards of bottles yore

blurs in soft dark orange light off to one's left,

the side of understanding what Life's for,

distinguishing the mountain from the cleft.

The goats go on the left, sheep keep the right,

just as the he-goat comes out of the west

to slay the ram who practices Warmth's Light,

loves God and loves the neighbor and has rest.

The left is sinister, not evil though.

But when left lands in tails position, no

oil's in the lamp whose memories we know.

The right is hearty earth the Lord will sow.

The Lord has used this sense of right and left

in both our Word and their Koran or Book:

goats on the left of charity bereft

and outwardly religious but forsook;

and sheep upon the right with innocence 

within their light and truths concerning Love,

thus sounding of the ram's head's inner sense

and this alighting of Professor Dove.

Simultaneity! The Divine Human is His Name

Simultaneity! Our Lord the Word

beyond the forms of human sense perception, time and space;

likewise beyond the angel with the swishing flaming sword

at Eden's east, unveiling of His grace

sings to us in the labyrinth of sin 

and error of His wisdom and His goodness and His love

and of the double trouble we are in.

Let us with innocence open our windows for His dove.

Simultaneity! The God Man is His Holy Name 

beyond the matter and the time and space.

He is the Web of Wyrd. He weaves with Providential grace.

Hear now and see His glory and His fame.

Simultaneity! Our Lord is near.

His presence in instructive glory teaches hearts with light

and enthrones flesh of love and blood of wisdom where we steer.

One lofts a cup with wings which drinks such sight

then flies off to the infrastructure of our Lord the Word

from which it came, love's lighting and blood's flesh. 

He brings us through the fire and water with His loving sword

aflame, fit both to harvest and to thresh.

He is the eating and the drinking and the bread and wine.

He's X and Y, He's zero and He's one.

You are exactly where you choose to dine

as to the neighbor's glowing moon, as to His loving Sun.

You are the timeless neighborhood you choose with cups and plates

and whether they are filthy or all clean.

He nurtures us through a bajillion states.

The Word's a magic eye print where His holy heart sings, seen.

Tempe Canal

Mos Eisley architecture (brown, beige, brick)

squats just above the dirt and gravel lots.

Some water lawns, insouciant of waste.

Jets wet pedestrians as pass them by.

The street looks painted by De Chirico

in clear light of the Valley of the Sun.

Ronald McDonald sits upon a bench.

The swallow-swooped and dragonfly-patrolled

soft capillaries in Tempe Canal

are silken static on a laptop screen.

A hummingbird investigates one's bike,

which looks like sunset or orange trumpet blooms.

These spring forth from the fence through which they thrust

impetuously outward to invite

the bees and hummingbirds to come on in.

A bee with brown bands alternate with tan

investigates one thoroughly, as though

the fellow of that species that one met

perhaps one half a mile away had sent

her mate a text and triggered their whole hive,

smart as a five year old and curious,

to check out anything detected twice

and fill out a report in triplicate.

She lingered near one's bike until one rolled

along the satin band amid a crunch of wheels

and truck track tread and trample grooves in dirt

and some relief to be thus rid of her.

Albeit she is worth the filling out

of a report in triplicate in blank

verse that outlasts and lofts above the fret

she caused one's spirits momentarily.

They'd think like a large language module does.

The numeration that AI performs

of human languages reminds one hives

can think through pheromonal interchange

and opening and closing logic gates.

A similar intelligence rides steeds

out of humanity in general, as

the noosphere of Vernadsky, De Chardin

astride the bucket fountain of our Lord.

A thing may be a plot, of course it may;

and also it may be a Chinese room

totalitarian hysterical 

stampede. The rulers and the ruled are ruled.

One sings now of His creatures' structuring

their meaning in an analogic form

with pantomime and otherwise so saying

heart and thence their mind abundantly;

thus see the world around alive in speech

by way of pheromonal, gestural,

and other conduits, not understood

as yet but known for information-rich.

The whale song as the forest speaks its mind;

the more so as it senses someone knows

to watch out for the waggle dance of bug

& beast, logs into internets of bird

song, orisons and gratefulness at dusks;

as rhizomes crackle with the evening news;

as volatile organic compounds zip

between the gossips known as plants & trees;

as trance remixes of the biosphere

weave melodies into our tapestries

with birds and beasts and Everyman and God.

The spirits speak in languages of fire

and water differently with every state.

We're simultaneous with flesh and blood.

A bulging creamy gibbous swiftly sinks

down towards the silhouettes of roofs & palms.

Black Sun, Blood Moon

Blackheartedness & bloodymindedness

both burn up marriage with adultery

of evil feelings & unhealthy thoughts.

The hardness of their hearts is a black Sun.

The unsupportive-of-the-conscience thoughts

are bloody-mindedness, the Moon as blood.

Thus does Manasseh eat up Ephraim

and Ephraim Manasseh in the Word.

Their sky was a black Sun and a blood Moon

which burn the heart and drown the mind in flood.

The heart mind soul triangle trade of Love

If mankind will, facilitate the heart.

There's more to life, but this is where you start.

If mankind will, facilitate the mind

and light the veering lamps of humankind.

If mankind will, facilitate the soul

so that mankind the partial may be whole.

This triple pedagogy is the way

to dawn, to turn thick darkness into day.

Inquire at Abel town as Ancients did.

For love and thoughts of love are inmost hid

in all the outers of the literal.

The literal, a body's littoral

expanse where glory shines, Word's inner sense,

contains this soul in lamps from which it glints.

All of the law and prophets hang from this:

Love God and love Humanity. Don't miss.

And see thou sacrifice thy calves thereat

the great stone Abel while you act on that

which you profess to practice in your mind

and on your lips. We're evil, so be kind.

The heart is desperate in its wickedness.

Love God and love Humanity. Don't miss.

The Divine Human's truth shines in text's cloud

who rose up from the dead, shedding His shroud.

For unto us a child is born. His name 

is innocence, His glory more than fame.

He will be called, this in the letter's sense,

The Everlasting Father and the Prince 

of Peace, and Wonderful, The Mighty God

who rules with natural truth of His iron rod.

His name will pass before us and proclaim 

therein the glory in the cloud His name:

the Lord, the Lord God, the abundance of

His goodness flowing from the heart of love,

His truth proceeding from that love as light

abundantly illuminating height,

the inmost height, the inner sense of “up”.

To swallow bread of love, drink up thy cup;

For wine of truth assists in swallowing

the Law of Love men should be following;

like good excuses to do good it guides

us with the iron rod wherein it hides;

wherewith our Lord will rule with gentleness.

Love God and love Humanity. Don't miss.

Transcend the Götterdämmerung with Christ

I mourned that we get used to metal birds.

I realized that there was a converse too,

however, in fresh, restless thoughts' strummed words.

Sometimes it's sad because something is true.

All data is an opportunity,

bright gold emerging from thick clouds of blue.

The World Directory's impunity,

though glacially fading, is a bloom.

Deceit and half-truths center unity.

We stride the latest Rust Belt from the loom

of sequence. So austerity is in;

depopulation too. We have the room.

The problem is the energy again.

We'll be bombarded by emergencies.

Not actual ones of course but spun of spin.

The masses see not charts; hear urgencies, 

can pick up on the strident something's-up

totalitarian emergencies.

Few have the strength of will to push the cup

of murderous deceit away from them.

Like beasts they bend; and in the grass they sup.

The more men sin, the more their Sun goes down.

The more it dims, they more they believe in lies.

Lies taste delightful to those ruled by whim.

But in the midst of fall I sense the rise

as yet obscured by flailing of the bloom

of interlocking with its big wig lies.

I nonetheless expect a nobler world

beyond such slime, a world which makes more sense.

I sense the destiny towards which we're twirled

by expert aim of loving Providence.

I do not believe that we will steer by stars

just yet. We've subtler ways to jump our fence.

As yet we have not nearly looked within,

met Him to whom we are the terminal

to His computer outside 'where' and 'when'.

His love is bottomless and germinal,

the fructifying of our hearts and minds

by influx flowing in our terminal.

His love it is that through our history winds

the most regenerations and the best.

His love it is that your own mind's eye finds. 

His love who tries the hearts and reins is rest

who passes us through fire and water here.

Our love sends tendrils out at His behest.

The present time is ruled by force of fear

and mass hysteria's stoked-on stampedes,

yet the Apostle writes “Love casts out fear” ( 1 John 4:18).                                                        

The present time is crumbling but the seeds

of its transcendence, planted in its fall,

will spring up in the mind of one who reads.

The stones cry out and vibrate a brick wall,

till through the crumbling of it shines His Sword.

Arise and walk! We will transcend their fall.

* See Copilot AI's collaboration with one's response to the transcendence reaction of Arnold Toynbee and the 2nd Religiosity of Oswald Spengler in the blog portfolio Without Fees, Exams, or Grades.

The glory of our Lord the Word is holy truth the King

" And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before thee..." (God, Exodus 33:19)

The presence of the Lord, instructive glory in the cloud

comes. Might and riches that illuminate the literal

come up the hidden ladder of our living Lord, the Word,

illuminate the enigmatic billowing of clouds.

He rides on these swift clouds and nurtures us with warming light.

Our Lord the Word's language of flowers and chiastic pairs

passes before us. All His goodness passes near before

our inner eyes and heartbeats, an abundance of His truth

and love exhibit; a direct perception, not blind faith.

Proclaim the name, proclaim the good name of our Lord the Word!

Lacunae in the Category Tree

I wonder what the Rapanui think

of Chachapoya statuary, and

I wonder what the Chachapoyas think

about the Vikings and Columbus; and

I wonder how a Hutterite reacts

to 'Communism doesn't work'. With nervous

smiles? Or how a Doukhobor reacts.

With ripping off their clothes and burning barns?

Them combine harvesters are communist!

Lacunae in the public consciousness

suggest departures into usefulness

in store perhaps for some extremity:

disaster communism; times of war,

of great upheaval socially and technically.

Lacunae in the public consciousness:

for instance Drebbel's working submarine

nearly unknown compared to Leonardo's corkscrew sketch.

But there is something more important here to peer at near:

occlusion/highlighting will underline an Einstein and

a Leonardo while occluding a De Pretto or

a Drebbel. Suchlike patterns are an opportunity.

Anomalistics also is an opportunity.

Ball lightning even isn't understood!

melange of silicates, of energies,

of iron; extended periods of a containment field;

the sudden winking off of balls of light

and their explosion; djinn, ultraterrestrials;

the trickster as a living ball of light,

a lightning monkey with a willful heart;

projections broadcast by the memory

(the same retrieval process as with dreams)

upon the visual field to cloak the otherwise unseen

spike of electromagnetism there

with a ghost waka or a UFO;

The spikes of energy move with intent.

They wave to us in Papua New Guinea with two hands.

They are an airship and it comes from Mars.

They are where hoaxers go after they die.

They are the dizziness, the time dilations and the burns.

Crab Island incident* and Rendlesham**

and Lakenheathe-Bentwaters*** rotate on their tracks;

*Men died from injuries twice in ten years.

**awarded compensation for his injuries;

***But mostly they just zip around, relax.

Proportions of the lightnings we can sense

will vary class by class in general and specifically

as to hallucinative efficaciousness.

One thinks of infrasound-induced uneasiness.

What time dilating, levitating hooligans of light!

What opportunities to frame our data otherwise!

The rigorous examination of anomalies

patrols the messy marches of imaginative space

on fascinated horses, stamping holograms of light.