Becoming Real Like Me

(notes)

Offerings beyond the law and the unlimits of practicality

Plato's Tripartite notion of the soul ties me to ways

There is a first step: devotion. Say Discipline, without self-renunciation

And then, circumstances, a time, a place, would bring them together

Flying from the nest, no other bird's wings will do

There is a final step: step one: there is a first step: step three

We waltz a street into a legion, ledge, a new limb, lets the heart reach visibly

as though you had your feet off the ground to movements set above the sound on the basis of emotional timing

Days that are the good flesh continuing

We seem to be gossiping, and I think we've gotten a little off topic

A swarm of dawns

A flock of restless noons

Mostly about empire and multitude

Vulgar clues into pride, I prayed for fire and found it right

Days that are the good flesh continuing

Think of One

Various attempts to hold onto certainty: Miracle: A coma of miracles: Meeting House. So-many announcements and they might negate one another. Think of one.

He sits in a rocking chair on our veranda. Soma. Machines can't replace muscles. But the keys dance a famous horizon across each mercy, easy. And we grow stronger with less effort. And the weightlessness of machines can make it so we don't need to waste the body's strength when going back and forth. Then we realize we want to, we've grown used to the exertion and shown language how beautiful a mistake becomes in the middle of itself, perfect. (Knowing how to say yes)

Ver the prefix for toward and truth, setting, undoing, new river, forgiven, vergeben, a version of courage, yes

I ran up the side of the sunrise wall looking for its angles and suffix, and found the stains of flying all over my spine the next day, other than down,

was a holiday, so it's fine, native, rediscovered

triumphant playfulness, (true love waits)

intent on things invisible, inaudible, we have other spineless virtues, flexibility, fluency.

But when I believe in pleasure, you believe in it too. Various attempts to let go of certainty but keep the muscles in its grip on history, don't go as well as an honest contradiction. Think of one.

He sits in the sunship on our veranda. Silent is my favorite idea of a true companion. Idyllic hymn. I plant a honeytoned shadow on the wall and make it dance and mumble the lyrics of some future memory. I can't feel my body, my machine, very heavy, some time passes between their switching. Not trading. Making two into one, genuflect, no- country. Then making oneness various. Attempts to prove how certainty is irresponsible.

Our proper work now if we love mankind and the world we live in, is revolution

Justice is What Love Looks Like in Public

Either the Iron Mask or the Cosby Sweater

Migrate
My greatness
My gateway
My black maybe
Be cool, Clay. Be cool

And So No One Doubts the Infinite Beauty

Some fetus, some such-and-such, loses her name every time you speak it. Which is why I prefer the secret of me to the subject of me --- chief/chief/ lady /chief/
Hypocrite, if you're boring enough to trust that word which in a former language translates to power or something worse than a name performed by impostors, a scene you lock to see if the key works, and when it does, what disappointment doesn't enter is never relieved of disappointment
My headline read Where is Silence Sacred

I broke into the words we waste on approval: love, war, wish, you, diluted clues into nothingness
It wasn't a question. It went in the shape of tombs and tom-toms, the battles that built their letters to outlast their meanings, the ones who go vanishing between him and no one. At the speed of desire, necessity. At speaking of necessity, move very quietly in every direction

Texture/Texture: Structure

All suffering is distance

Most of it

And telepathy is the only distinct thing left

By thing I mean, texture

By left, I mean, what remains of earth

By texture I mean... sho' nuff

The path hurt like wool tugging away at a lamb, but we made it

And did you see it too, each way the word nigga screwed itself onto the word night to stay dark and ubiquitous

Thank you. I feared I was the only one who saw it two. That fear turned into numbers, numbness, a suburban afterglimpse of passing days and it was too safe for suffering and too dangerous for distance. Thank you. I'm not the only one. All distance isn't suffering. This one shuffles across ourselves like, hush, now, don't explain. I'm glad that you're back--BlackIvory--, don't explain