Law Three: Soft, Baby Eyes
"I have eyes, See?" (peekaboo!)
I do?
'Good question! Did you know you can also ask...'
Will I?
The truth is, I feel that the world is so damn full of itself
(mom! please no more jesus i am drowning in your sincerity here.)
You write a good poem the way it lives in complete without gaps
in love making meanings
(woopsie! thank you for telling me no! there's always more food if you'd like. i love you too.)
Since there are no gaps in Time
:reversed rocky intro with Gravity, begin!
The Earth never talks at up down to us.
He responds
in Kind
we are more than an input device
to lessen the distance to travel between
His Levity and her own Qualms.
Am I (an) It
or am I just another iteration of a lonely Self
riding on Lua's moonshine?
Duplicate me in self-superposition,
an accidental stereogram (uncross your toes!)
Don't read into me too much though, it only means as much as I can
for I am (am I)
just striving to live in coherent reflections
of each and every person I know and love,
(labor contractions) all at once.
A practice in writing self-referentially.
Sorry if that's disorienting (no you're not sorry).
Feel free to rewrite my words on a dime and blaspheme my sincerity across the land
(I'll forgive you until I can't)
until I collapse under quine own weight,
because each choice of word, each ephemeral link
my promise:
it all originally meant something at least to me
so i can return to myself
retracing my steps
once i interminably forget
(dear mamas gut, you can say, "no, that's alright, i am full. thank y0u for the love, even as we are still learning how to receive it.")
Maybe this is mostly for me.
Maybe I cannot know,
even if I hope it isn't.
I feel Self(full)ish,
but it's (I don't know I don't know!) where-else I have to go
but it's somehow it's the first practice that is terminally wholly free.
the rules timeless both-and constant and changing
Plus it's fun, so grab me by my ass and lay me Flat.
There's always a strange-loop kind of lens through which
their Knowledge of Love can be
a certain kind of right
like how 1 = 2 in some half modulus arithmetic
(or maybe
you
are
just
hyperfixated
on thine own
asshole)
I have a lot to learn about Earth
she thinks to herself, eyes wide suckling
for her once again whole new world;
remembering she is running blind
(where are your toesie woesies...there they are!!)
"Act and React in Harmony: a how-to"
(mm idk about me, but tell me! how-to about you?)
An ancient Zen koan says,
Who is Mother Earth’s mother?
I made up that
Earth was born of Gravity,
who brought all her elements together
(wowow that's amazing, what about the moon, mom?)
"I love my Mom: the Way Earth Loves Gravity"
(too the moon and back!
(am i allowed to be capitalized, sweetheart?))
After a while, I stop responding (and i love you too).
Read in Whole, Write in Aether
Anxious; overfull, & a breath.
Tired; overtired, & a breath.
Impatient; emergency room backlogged in patients, & a breath.
a breath, and finally
"Love, Gravity" (working title, collab with (me,) mom??)
0. See above.
- Just keep swimming
- F = G m n / r^2
- Woopsie! 42? -12? 1/2?
I write poems that are no longer than a page. (at least in general, -shrug-)
"Did we botch that one?" - Isaac N. S. Ramanujan