Timewise

Those memories countless of innumerable days-idle

Lost in distractive circling-screw, app to app or magazine to book to brew

Net dependence unweathered, seeking of The Magic Bullet for one’s ills and failings

Goalposts forever shifting, as projects multiply, mutate, fall aside, recycle

Interpolation of self-help pointers and cure-all systems, all seeking ever, something to tie together more than ephemeral progress-process

Naught! Never yet came the day..

Perseverance, they say, is key, goal to sandwich, sober to studious, job hunt to dating game –

Yet no system will save him, no method can quash that which impels him

To tie together, finally, one day, a victory, to knot the cord again the next day and next –

Limit permutations. Yet also note new ideas [not to plunge headlong that instant though, keep eyes on structural glue]

To each there is a way and a season, and mine is not yours, nor any others’ mine

To each there is a way.. To structure. To reduce. To accumulate those 10,000 mile steps

No more to fall to circling, circling, circling, whether of the Feeds-reading or the many substitutions –

To cut that which stops you for days on end and after – & …

///::\\\__///::\\\

Thinking of assembling a scheduled posting routine, Monday and Wednesday mornings, to replace the flurries of daily posts followed by long silences. Cutting, thereby, time pressure on other writings, enabling me to progress better on submissions goals & so much more. Hopefully, this will allow me to also check all those quality and completeness boxes and promote each item a bit, as well as seeding more print-worthy verses &c, easing urge to post the first thing written, …. Yadda yadda yadda. Also considering doing one of the two more along the lines of ‘art-of-life’, something topical to current events, or another thing I have insight and experience to, and the other weekly post more pure word art. But since I don’t really control what I sit down to write, and have been notoriously bad at sticking to things all my life, we’ll see.. I think the habits I’ve devised may work this loop of the merry-go-round. More on which, perhaps Wednesday. YMMV, and of course to each his own. Wish me luck! I’ll need it I’m sure, however well aligned and confident I feel right now. 

///::\\\__///::\\\

Note, if you struggle with smartphone problems, guess what, *there’s an app for that too!* .. Currently installed here, BreakFree, Quality Time, Habits, I Can’t Wake Up!, and IFTTT .. Currently not installed, Facebook, Twitter, Hacker News, & Wikipedia. Added Tumblr back yesterday for a reason.. As always, YMMV, and I am overtime on this post. Best wishes! Resistance is never futile – & …

[edit: huge mess of many autocorrect fuck ups fixed]

Stomach crying its emptiness

Head unpleasant too

Both becoming lessened by seconds

Time ticks on and the device shifts

Phenibut is amazing for dreams

None the last 3+ months

This is something else entirely

But should you wish to hack and crack the sleep of the powerful

Consider phenibut, and aniracetam (but do not brinf large doses of p to a sudden stop)

In the panpsychism and pantheism

In the splittikins and remergings of event/reality spaces and groups

In the limited options of OTCs, herbals, alcohols, tobaccos, . . .

And now feeling entirely better again, after the brief lie down . . .

And a bit of psychedelic verse

Yet shifting…

This brief descent into the verbal and textual plane

Drops me back to sobriety, even while it stopped pain

New protocol, 4, 3, 2, 3. .. (4left)  separated

And yet still too hot for a stroll,

But cigarette and drink, palatable again

The loveliness of evening

Hypnosis of goals, not yet, perhaps later

Shifting feelings untoward and unclaimed

Forget critics and bask in pleasance and joy

Lose not self, nor compromise

Stretch beer with splashes of herb tea and juice and ice

Consider the passionflower and St John’s wort of the field

They do not spin, neither do they toil . . .

Applications against alcohol notwithstanding

Vapid ramblings of unbound mind

Flows pain me to think, but I prefer the mindless

Candle Burns holding sacred space, incense streams, as Sacred Dove sits in witness

Hypnosis of goal finding, lies and excuses to boot; lift me up, make me something to sell

A prayer is thus said, a choice is thus tAken, false self-obsessed friends abandon, those who remain, we know . .

No lovers, lo these many years, a time of growth, expelling demons, gaining boundaries and assertions and the strength of ‘No’

No, I am not what is spoken by that one, no you may not show up at 545am drunk and expect welcome anymore, no I do not need your mathematically looped prejudices and complications, no I don’t want to listen to your chained series of chimerical delusions, nor Your repetitive blogs about how aweful all the others are

No.

In time two saints know, that in their virtue they had lost all vitality and significance

In time they see they awoke too late, the world has already spliced their bloodless pronouncements into its social, technical, and legal D/RNA

In time the march of the fascists, in time the march of the imperious judging mind

Divide not into worthy and unworthy, respect difference, seek to understand and be understood

Yea, all life is sacred, yea, all people are granted basic respect . .

Admiration of The Star, Exaltation of the Ace, the 8 of Cups . .

Departing in disgust

Bits of Code & Invective

New sidewalk chalk after very little of late: {

method texture

~(watch for sprites)~

enact polymorphism

contract naught

}

did it down at the corner this time instead of in front of my house for more eyeballs. most people ignore these, it seems, but perhaps they do something for those who don’t ignore them. hopefully the clouds will pass without more rain. i have also done things at locations around town (particularly bellarmine campus), but for the quick and dirty thoughts, being able to walk to the target spot is good.

Re-reading “Ziggomatic Keys: Synaptic Syntactic” in search of the proper title for the edition with the new cover image and all formatting fixed, unmatched addenda excised, etc. Problem is ‘ziggomatic’ will draw zero search queries on amazon, and ‘keys’ will be deluged in many more popular offerings in the results. I think I will call it ‘synaptic syntactic’ for the title, but i’m still working on the subhead (and which of the rejected bits to include, as definitions, before the contents)

https://www.amazon.com/Ziggomatic-Keys-Syntactic-Cooper-Dozier-ebook/dp/B01A3P9TSK

Smash the Stack (syntactic vehicle)

scriggles & DIMINUTION of SUFFERINGS & ANXIETIES

clarence, whence thy clarity?

ALACK! ALARM!

chaos & crustiness…

Searing flesh fills the pails of the aristocrats – – –

Loss and timing come close together

TIME!, that greatest most gargantuan of ILLUSIONS! 11105

Slide and syllogise, decorate and recreate, excoriate and bloviate

All the many things we undertake, we undertake and do all the things to which we are allowed, except for those to which we dislike, and also many of the things to which we are forbidden, my friends, and yet ; . . . → ∑

Sloppy in our executions, we also,

Our feet took us every which-of-where to which we desired, as well as many to which we did not…

We danced and we sowed, we jumped and we dreamed

In dreaming we became other than what we were, and shouting down the invading werewolf with a cry of \

LOL- RA – RA!!

To which they responded, under their breaths, the craven thing, i’m gonna eat’ch you.”

Repetitively we beat this drum,,,

Chaos theory notwithstanding,

But under the covers things were otherwise and not-of-so, yet always the same, yet ever changing and shifting and shimmering and flickering, yet always of the darkness of the abyss

I abound with the contrapuntals of life

Contrappasto, the Demonoids waxed and they waned, they seduced and beglamoured, the flirted and batted with the lashes..

Similarly of a different color all the finches of anomalousness became other than their own colors and of colors of a different dimension,

In our own time, we wept and we exulted, we rose and we teleported

All the atoms being smeared across subspace;

Acrostic and encryption was the lesson of the day in the 4th form

In the bellies of the angels, the stars grow their wings ; ;

LET THERE BE LIGHT! [ [ { { Firelords_flame } } ] ]

flame-xxl

Digital Slivers

Steve_Jobs_Memorial

While art may at times be disturbing,
It is up to artist to say..
Whether this be art or truth
Chaos struck on the chords of facebook’s hearts
Unable to say, leap to conclusion of disturbance
While playing war songs on YouTube
Chaos theory of politica becomes nanoparticles of dust
Not to say always managed seriously
Nor to say ever unincensed
In the night the werewolves come
Villainy in their minds and blood on their hands
Yet untwisting the mind can be poetry rather than violence
Too late for some, too late for many
Political aims credited yet different aims and means
Sickly demented persons wickets away from their nine
Each title rammed down, each lesson unspoken

The slivers of glass, not to be eaten by ogres
Nor to be tormented by the furry cobras…
Flight and flags raining down everywhere, signs and more signs,
as multitudes teleport in
Trickery awake and aware but unable to know peace
The work ahead a long journey, not too sloggy we hope

Jump further in pieces of armor of heart
Slight chaos and disappointment
The wisdom of the electorate profoundly off or stolen
Chimed the midnight, “Nevermore”

It is up to artist to say..
Whether this be art or truth or nought or neither or both
Or to keep silence on matters of which words were which


“Sometimes paper is the only one who will listen to you” -source lost
“A writer who isn’t writing is an intolerable beast” -source lost

vlti-lab-mar2009-1021