[rams-poetry]

[rams-poetry]

Stuff

...paper plate stacks of guilt and

ghouls at the tip of the self

And a whole world of Tibetans

to derive mental truity

And a hole-fury of pills and spirits

And a whole where only empty

remains

And an evenness of ouch and oooh's

calling for the labyrinth's end, the labyrinth's root

without even a Buddhahood regime.

pink booze more like everything,

handled by nothing but a crunchy thug.

sadness, gladness, bird-strum

who can re-member that holy birdsong , "if I can emerge... from a dream" And

darth doing, to undo doom, an endless torrent of unreality.

who is the next socio, look at the crow And say it.

Itself has itself a problem, somewhere has itself a problem, something has itself a problem. the spirits have handled mallets.

if I say only what God says about, what does.... ?

[rams-poetry]

[rams-poetry]

Somewhere IV: Luke 4: 2-7

 Somewhere, where a turducken is

           the go to thingamajig to eat

                           in times of sterile and plain living

    A family of nine or maybe ten

            huddle around 

into a circle                       and pray                  over it,                    

             one of  them thinking,

“if it had been an inch long crown in it’s place, 

                                              would it belong on God’s head?”

The thought was what it was.

And it was like a warrior-fied thing, like                why, or even what        even

                                            WHERE?

And It deified him instantly.

                           And there was heard a parished song.

                                                              And a way he went, inside           himself.                      As if he had always known THE way.

SEEING NOW, 

                       he stepped forth                            thinking,

“A wobbled walk into a zone over-filtered is like a stone to thy head,

I shall have this turducken to myself at once.”                   

                                                                                                 “Amen”

[rams-poetry]

[rams-poetry]

[rams-poetry]

Somewhere VIII: The Transient

"She,

Maybe a little bit of moment bless?

Maybe the propagation of something strange,

that dips into the head like a guillotine quarreless?

Maybe a language of heaven itself

that opens up thy head

like a guillotine quarreless?"

KNOW

"I saw her once in a vision, Blavatsky,

And drew her on a bub napkin (then thought, then reality).

She had a ring like a Sphinx on her hand, and ministry in her belly

and you could tell, and a red robe that flowed into my seeing and myself

like a pair of familiar waters knowing.

All of it

did .

(then thought, then reality)

"I am maybe twice likely to be a not to be

as if the wing of the CROW has dipped low

like a guilloti ... (in BARE SPIRIT FEET)."

"When the ministry made way

I only we her say," "there is more wisdom

in Gurdjieff's moustache than every Innocent pope enjoined

I am sure."

"And too am, we I, like a single cent, tossed

into an empty hallway".

"But, Somewhere, some hands, are not filled with these wonderous THINGS, at all.

Oh baby, butter me with meditation,

like a guillotine quarreless".

"those traveling feet ...desiring a place... the bowed head, not in submission, but as the offering for us to pour ourselves into each other to share and possess" @aftersalt

"Many things are summoned like shapes in water"

"done layed in a bed of not I I's"

"And the crow who knows his way around"

"A man who was in a place... again and again"

[rams-poetry]

Somewhere VIIII

Neither far nor close

... ..... .. ...

... ..... ...

.. . .. ..

... .... ..... .......

(AMEN)

It settled on a one way handshake with God

"I gained consistency only after being born, I did not know what it was Is it the location ...I kept thinking of things " @atroubledbison

"Many things are summoned like shapes in water."

"Never to touch the seemed again”

"So even when something says that saying something is too much, what actionable THING can reach ... The social eye has failed."

[rams-poetry]

[atroubledbison]

A Consistent Life

일관된 생애 태어난 뒤에 일관성을 가지게 되었다, 그것이 무엇인지 몰랐는데 눈코입의 위치라든가 뒤통수의 방향 같은 것인가 또는 너를 기다리는 표정

나는 정기적으로 식사를 했다. 같은 목소리로 통화를 하였다. 갑자기 슬픔에 빠졌다. 변성기는 지났습니다만

저는 살인자이며 동시에 이웃들에게 아주 예의바르고 성실한 사람입니다. 그것이 사회의 덕목, 정중하게 넥타이를 매고 예식에 참석했다가 취한 뒤에는 술잔을 던지고

가로수가 언제나 거기에 서 있는 것을 좋아하였다. 길고양이가 지나다니는 골목의 밤을 깊이 이해하였다. 나타났다가 사라지는 것이 매우 일관되었다고

오늘도 변함없이 죽은 사람들에게 조금 더 가까워집니다. 어렸을 때부터 독재자와 신비주의자가 싫었어요. 제게도 미친듯이 사랑했던 사람이 있었는데… 누구였더라.

내가 어느날 당신의 전화를 받지 않을 것이다. 술집에서 떠들다가 문득 침울해질 것이다. 살아가다가 이제는 살고 있지 않을 것이다.

아무래도 나는 어제의 옷을 다시 입고 오늘의 외출을 하는 것이었다. 거짓된 삶에 대하여 계속 무언가를 떠올렸다.

- 이장욱, 영원이 아니라서 가능한

A Consistent Life

I gained consistency only after being born, I did not know what it was Is it the location of the eyes, nose, and mouth, or the orientation of the back of your head or the expression I make as I wait for you

I ate meals consistently. Talked on the phone in the same voice. Was saddened suddenly. The time of my voice changing has ended I am a murderer and at the same time a polite and hardworking neighbor. That is the virtue of society, to join the ceremony while wearing a neat tie and throwing the drinking glass after intoxicated

I liked the fact that the trees on the street always stood where they did, deeply understood the night of the alleyways where the street cats prowled. To appear than disappear is  so very consistent Without fail, I grow a little closer to the dead today. Since I was a kid, I hated tyrants and mystics I too had someone that I loved like mad… Who was it. One day I will not answer your phone call. I will grow sad while talking loudly in the bar. I will be living and then no longer living.

It seems I had been wearing the clothes of yesterday once again to go on outings of today. I kept thinking of things about the false life.

- by Lee Jang-Wook, from Possible Because It Is Not Eternity

[rams-poetry]

This is Knowing ii

Fire.                    And this is KNOWING.

NOTHING is like the day young,

  mind has the VENTURE 

     of IDEA      and      

      taste this sensuous DEVIL;   language, then

  thought, then reality.

                    ?

But who is there

but he               Meiser of the Dream

   who spinned this world to DEATH, traits,

                  and deeds

          with an absolute THANK?

    So even when something says 

  that saying something

is too much, what actionable THING

   can reach                       beyond this world?

 The SOCIAL EYE has failed.

A measure twisting, in the wrong shadow

       is not a thing at all, in the EYES of the salmon

           as

 rites thick preserved in the me means time.

           This is KNOWING,               

                 and  it has failed.

[rams-poetry]

Somewhere VI: Transmutation

"Midas, might as well marry Medusa then"

was all that a man

who was in a place had to say.

Again and again

"Midas, Midas, Midas, might as well..."

In a place.

He was somewhere.

And I was NOWHERE to be found

HA!

It is as if SEEING tried to look for it's self

and found there was no

motion.

[rams-poetry]

This is Knowing ii

Fire.                    And this is KNOWING.

NOTHING is like the day young,

  mind has the VENTURE 

     of IDEA      and      

      taste this sensuous DEVIL;   language, then

  thought, then reality.

                    ?

But who is there

but he               Meiser of the Dream

   who spinned this world to DEATH, traits,

                  and deeds

          with an absolute THANK?

    So even when something says 

  that saying something

is too much, what actionable THING

   can reach                       beyond this world?

 The SOCIAL EYE has failed.

A measure twisting, in the wrong shadow

       is not a thing at all, in the EYES of the salmon

           as

 rites thick preserved in the me means time.

           This is KNOWING,               

                 and  it has failed.

[rams-poetry]

Somewhere IV: Luke 4: 2-7

 Somewhere, where a turducken is

           the go to thingamajig to eat

                           in times of sterile and plain living

    A family of nine or maybe ten

            huddle around 

into a circle                       and pray                  over it,                    

             one of  them thinking,

“if it had been an inch long crown in it’s place, 

                                              would it belong on God’s head?”

The thought was what it was.

And it was like a warrior-fied thing, like                why, or even what        even

                                            WHERE?

And It deified him instantly.

                           And there was heard a parished song.

                                                              And a way he went, inside           himself.                      As if he had always known THE way.

SEEING NOW, 

                       he stepped forth                            thinking,

“A wobbled walk into a zone over-filtered is like a stone to thy head,

I shall have this turducken to myself at once.”                   

                                                                                                 “Amen”

[rams-poetry]

Somewhere IV: Luke 4: 2-7

 Somewhere, where a turducken is

           the go to thingamajig to eat

                           in times of sterile and plain living

    A family of nine or maybe ten

            huddle around 

into a circle                       and pray                  over it,                    

             one of  them thinking,

“if it had been an inch long crown in it's place, 

                                              would it belong on God's head?”

The thought was what it was.

And it was like a warrior-fied thing, like                why, or even what        even

                                            WHERE?

And It deified him instantly.

                           And there was heard a parished song.

                                                              And a way he went, inside           himself.                      As if he had always known THE way.

SEEING NOW, 

                       he stepped forth                            thinking,

“A wobbled walk into a zone over-filtered is like a stone to thy head,

I shall have this turducken to myself at once.”                   

                                                                                                 “Amen”

[rams-poetry]

The Whirlpool

   If last night spanked space

                 with

       a pile of mind stuff

who is labeled the Dream Meiser?

Many things are summoned 

      like shapes in water.

[rams-poetry]

Featherweight Skeptic

A Beast of uber-doubled doubts

 never-lagged 

done layed in a bed of 

     not I  I’s.

HA!           

                    Saying, “if 

   Bagged worms are lesser things

    or even baits in dreamed life

  we ought to               Sapir Whorf,

         from the Duat and out. 

     Never to touch the seemed again.”