Tag: familiar

In Competition With Convenience 2000/09/09 Thursday

How does one enter the public domain? Do those who have their rights reserved? What if I were to cross over into the public domain? How would there be someone to escort me, as in a service?

Write, write well, and you will come to this posture, this passage, to lay down extant your remains. And don’t over worry how it will go for the next artisan, the next participant. The next person to feel those thoughts, to hear that saying.

For some it will be a higher power that draws a link between you two. Between you and the next or even between you and a someone who came before.

But if your writing doesn’t work out and you find you have no such rights before those thoughts. And feelings and sayings slip from your fine fingers back into the ground. The common acre, the open domain. Well then maybe you should try Algebra.

Give A Fig, Define A Tree

Climbing. Ambling. Delightfully walking the bout around in my day. Talking and walking and exhorting great sympathy for the changless grange. Jeez! Someone get the old bear to go on and roll over. How romantic yes. But the glazy eyed sleepers are in an expressly dampened portion of the official roost. The dank drabbies have only more to accustom themselves with the caress of breezy time to know that a tight spot is remiss. That is to say there is no holdover in nights’ cahoots to run implored. The self knows. The day commits. And the nights do pass.

Scale and wages. Full on passion directed toward the thief! Come away from your spoils. There is no foul play that has needs be labeled cheat. The higher ups on the wagon into town. Going to get a barrel or two of the local snuff juice. Hope the rye is key to the holdings of the house. Born on the well side of the measure and containing the elemental and the anodyne.

A blazon making quick exchange with the sky. The players in assay with their weight. To bear it away and remove the stigma from the pie. No steal for the crickets provender or striding locusts to take from the honey pot. All welcome to partake by the course. Bound sellers in their market stalls. The great trading halls laying out tender for surety. Promises for security blankets. The leader of the pack backing down before the hallow heart.

Bees knees! Your burden is truck. Waltz right in and pluck that flower from the wall. And the next one! And them ones after that. A box of hats doesn’t strike you down from your mill. Leave them same sorrows of efforts to the greetings of salutations.

Pick up your gear and don’t lambaste the seasonal climes for their refrain. So thus in not furthering the extent of consumption by placating one’s footprint there. You have simples to live and let be.

Accept a little light into your hearts. To acknowledge is to recognize is to gain acquaintanceship with a level in the upstanding mind. If you are to don your cap and fly please just don’t buy Crow pie for the pandit to outfit. Please give to the reeves of your village something more sublime and yet still subtle. The hopes of a generous thane are in the compass of your faith in the new survival.

That can be respected and and let go of. Oh but for the repasse of flighty birdsong from the arid reach. Beach sand deserts. The just and virtuous. Sinclair and succinct. By measure of dose. A gone deal gone down. Those rites have passed. Et al fine and so gone.

Curmudgeon petitioning their man of God. Take the pulpit MAN! Free up this savage race and don’t commit your trespasses here again. The Gods in heaven have no time for your blindness or your maddening exalts either. The day to apprehend is the one you must wish to pass by.

That is the Seeker and the earth for its salt. What ocean’s remove would failsafe such an implausible breach of candor and decorum and those things strangely relying on the drunkard and his wine. California in the old days the passion play of quiet mountain running ships. Make for town and fuck yeah!

To blame the professor for a bit of bad luck is the fate of the Hempseed and the Buffalo. Dagger reaches for his loom and espies the crumby ropes. Mofo of the pentacle set. A manner of putting on your own suit. Still In the service of others but blind now and fooling. Beating that glad drum with the best of them. Bang, bang, hey wait a minute! Why do you want them gone. Did your ill spoken mete not head your Mystery out. Did you have the last laugh?

Taking advantage of death and all that. Goodbye snafu. Goes to show your weight replaces the gold with drose. It is a smidgen gone and you have to bitch. Woe unto the beholding lank of shifty sand dollar alibis. You knew it of the Lord. The mercy. You might as well accept it of a good woman. Don’t you think?

It Amounts To As Much 1999/04

The ziggaret.The pyramid. Holy Mount Zion. The snows of Kilamonjaro. The home of the God’s Olympus. Highest peak in North America Denali in Alaska. The now fallen peak of Algonquin a traveler. Sea bed mount of the tropical Hawaii.

The grammarian. A woman of reign considering her offspring. Easy to know by the simple calling of their hearts to beat. And what is the Universal lot of such good fortune? Who stamps the hall license with their mark? What claven homes of sacristy in a plethora has on its horizons the coming and going of trams from the Mythraic fleet?

Have the swaro let racks of pierced hearts in on raven swells? Snip jiggle wits it is ubiquitous consternation on the larboard side. Rope a chord and keep on flirting logical. Divulge in you feld set of space. Or like our Lightfoot who snaps a twig and culls. In the periodatch a Flanders house and a vestige of root quenched.

The rosy cross. Buddhist confusion between maldiction and henchmanship. Dharma-order toward truth. Brotherhood of the Rosy Cross. Esoteria of the Astral court. Fete in bannered height. Decisions of the snap were forward in effort. Werewitche. Shipsafe and stock sure. Water from Senators. Law rights. Corporate business. Hillbills. Money in stacks of stocks.

7 turns. Celtic Abreya. Arthur and the Hallow tree. Appeliac Amperfin. Intercalery twain dexterity. Taos, 6 were 9, Mercaba, jackals and the oxymoron. Folex. Oden & the Aeon are One.

Los Angeles general going back in time with a chipper for a soldier. Tabok of Emmanuel Lieber. Ane, boo, cree, dor. Emmanuel Lieber. Tabok of the creed. Descry Attenuate. Upanishads. Samadhi and Satori commingled and mixed. And the workings of the language semantics. Octave set of semantic structure should be brought to accord with forme fixe solfeggio. As well as the Universal Octave.

Me & My Like

Heart rending sorrow and exercise. The compassion it takes in getting along with those in the manner of life. They whom are relieved to hear of your progress yet to whom one does not ask of the refrain. Courses amongst horses. Making out good and wise sense in the extant of their mind. In there goose fletching and the churches they place on the rock and on the hill.

Secreting a way the vernal axis. Making out a good place to set aside differences and get down to meditation. To come promising. To give to reason and its powers enkind. A veritable tautology of feating glades. A glam exegisis upon the cultured bough. The road is not for the weary my fine camper. No it is rather a conditional peace indeed.

When the leaves on the tree are flourishing. In the spring tide as they call it in the Northern climes. There is an excitement to find out who is the herald of the event. The gopher? The Robin? What about the fox? Up and at ’em babies! The glide of pacified wings checks its Jay at the door. Crossing these streets need have be the bane of the iconoclast. To no longer care for the filcher and the varmint. As quick as a dash and bent to feature it no more. Reduced to b-grade popcorn of the jiffiest kernel and poker’s fork.

If any more tribal lore has need splay my possessions then know I will be at the fly of a feather to make sure the reward is my proper wage. How about $10,000 dollars a show. Just the songs and chords will do ya what is necessary. And when all cheap excuses for vagaries have been exhausted well then end your day and lay ye down and take a proper rest why don’t you.

You have needs do that. See.

New Life

The newness of life is an exquisite mean. A birthing mean. A meaningful way to gain existence and hopefully live a meaningful life. With certainties of feeling

The fishes swimming school by school. All look to the opening again of light. The passion of the curmudgeon and the cogitations of a welcoming to the bow. There are fresh ancestry queries in the quire of the lumber pulp. Them that are gaiting the check out steps of the feat, already wandering. So in gazing through at the repath of a lay-back train time pleasantry. This of talk and laughter and token footfall grinnies out the welter-weighting windows of an electric eel spanning the crossroads and streets.

Within a moment the blessing of the hierophant has come to pass. There are freedom birds outside crowing and cawing at the flight of their singing neighbors, the more melodious robin troupes. They tell themselves, it really is in generous tithes of an Earthly church that the sovereign dei comes out upon her porch and lays claim that night to an alturistic and malleable clamor of want and further acquaint. But if the overt dispatch of runoff water is a pelt away from the snow falling from that bow and dashing the strewn nettles of an abased Scotch Pine.

Then the wild child has a catty nine to win the row of street houses. Turning in a wheel through the mazy neighborhood of around the block kids. These who adapt to their surroundings by outlook and gaze over from inside the moving frame of windows and above wheel. Or else on legs and shod in conventional tough-outs fit for quick corner-cuts and flat out straits.

The want of an elder in the designs of throe. Emotions that want another pass. Through the dailies of a soon 🔜 familiar regent upon our seas. Clandestined compasses and the blowing end of a great white North.

Looks like no call 📱 to tragedy has to put down this boy. From his new acquaintanceship with being and further coming into the light of his path through our tomorrows. That which plays out beyond the genius mean. Odds on the carapace in the hall. These walls shine with the long stretches of sunshine that fare the way across the hale of such safe passages. With scenes inclusive a twice regular turning of the season’s manifold. Sometimes even catching a prism in it’s escape across the hallow contentment of a strider’s happy home.

High Criminy

Psychefancy, Christomancy, a Thebian priest and his tools. The highway is the by way is the liars way of breaking with the rules. To leave the brave, the accusing of rags, the jealousy of the rote. To too well tell a curiosity to dwell is the parasitism of a cleft in the wall straying, is the deft prerogative of slacking brown nose toads. The oath of a diligent and cross fountain gather has to excuse the Winter, excuse the rain, excuse the very plumbing truth for its simples, its pathos, its gain.

As a child I had my blues. I had my tasty treats and I had my designs. Make good on my fortune and react by spreading the garland around. Give good witness to the tourney in the trades and cheer on the charge leaders in the snuff and morays. A heuristics of the nominal purchase of the low down spirit. For penchant, for musings, for brave concord in the light of another oncoming day.

To speak of rain is made obfuscate. The harassment of savages saves their own. Another drink but it ain’t on me. You see that would be the clover hoof. The Gillian cast of sympathy a lack. How many the times does an exhort need to tell you you don’t need to leave unless you need a hallowed reed to blow us all away.

The page doesn’t turn without the idle to fall its way through. There is no cache of booze. No store of gold. No bank note for us to go by.

Only a broken mother asking how many children you will take, how many coffers you will leave empty, how many lies you will force your young men and women to tell. Its the new slavery and all you need are believers. That will seal the Deil. The lie of the conceited flesh. Both the purile and the anteseptic make out no such due accord. An irascible convenience of bailed out Strophies and baumed out gartens in the disputed Sun.

If things look up then you are getting duped. If you cross the bridge then you will be stumbled from your stoop. The best effort is to no longer have anything to do with evil. The best demon is the one that choses never to exist. The best dead man is one born again. It doesn’t get any easier than that. Simply move from this place of your own volition and check the street when you cross it.

A place like this goes without saying. The best result of customers is the gypsy sending the current home. Any other cause of the diaspora and we will have to cut our losses. We do neither make practice of it nor do we profess it. It is bewitching and the extent to which it has exaserbated the vehemence of its rebuke is not our call.

If you position yourselves at the cryogenic with a redundancy that currently is your stone. One thing is you have only to imagine your enemy. The same as the evil you purchase in your markets. The ride aspect of the carnival leaves you at the door.

Return is as decisive as foul play. You are caught without your better reason and your hide splits at the confessor’s error. You are a consumer you see! And I mean through and through. The indulgence of the mass going by prepares of nefarious means. It just glares when their babies cry for the succor of your candy. Another tests and the order is denied. What is rather apprehended is the tantrum of two foot tall infidels and the flash in the pan ethos of conniving runts. Those automatons of the filth and the crud.

To end on pleasant note. The garden cares for those who tend it. And to tend it well it needs its respects and it’s revolutions. Vouch for it like death and you will find your health improves by far. The earth bids us give her lease for a longer tide down her shores. Life is not a matter of objects. A stinking mess shouldn’t be ignored. Get out and exercise your constitution. Or go to camp. Just don’t excuse your consumption because you are a faithless and bastardized. Be. And do that in good company. Thank you.

Seven Knotted Twain

The frayed knot. The dredging of the mud sotty lake wounded down stream. The weird and the riotus. How many cornacopias of the sailor can a purple feeler in his throes grift back to hop and dominion and the Sunshine state of mind.

Let it go at that. Sail on sailor. The undersea adventures of the mystery clan. A shapeshifted entranceum of fitting clemency. A long tow of the merry equippage out to the high seas. Past harbours test and the wharf heavy sorties of a jersey wearing crowd.

These tramps hocking off their Western dreams for the indigenous climes of a more sovereign country. No slave no lie. Let the reckoning show that breaking the law was neither of account or given to the lusts of any such state of the sundry fodders in the house of the lamb.

Those ticking tailors whom must hide their keys in the boxes under the tree. They are of no natural remit unto the standing constitution that did preclude its vanity in the way of any such untimely demise. We would rather honor our ranges with the figurative bond and the sympathetic maiden of the wood.

Nary so much magic for a hammer to put down the memories of our watchers. Noted superstition to carry the foolish infidels alack to their faithful bough. If the grade is of the proper cline then as well the big trees of the wood have their need for an honest witness rather.

And knights’ rank with concommitants of prizewinners will be judged sane. Then who chooses to bridle down the village in the name of an espirited garner of fish will have it with tack. Sounding sails in the maya gaining its reception gloriously at ease.

Glad to sleep at night or in the case of convention arriving at its just desserts. The room slows down the diurnal period from the exacting of works and exercise of routines. With a look out at the stars before closing the eyes to consciousness and a prayer in no uncertain terms the day ends.

Traveling Blues Concordance

Too many shoes to wear out on the street. Leaves the foot of your good old king sore and travel worn. To get back in the swing of things the horses are saddled. The rye canting song of jim chiminy has outside the post to get another matter on by. The rider gets to its righteousness and the woman and children race with the rabbit and the egg.

Numer, letre, and tone. These have the heights of sky and the depths of a sundry perversity to beat the time. A betting game of telephone booths. Run in leery eyed contests of a hampered van. Levee the draft in the cogitations of missed busses and lay back trains. Make romantic a windy beach with the augur of a lucred wreck. Traipse in ragtail siminy throughout the diurnal period.

Learn the ropes of the terrestrial condition. Rein in the horseplay of racing coursers. Lead the march beneath the pale moon of an early days meander. Look back high and low for that sign that this is not dissolution in the lightness of fantasy. Take each round through the gate sans indulgence and be not unaccustomed to the passion play. The days will wax and they will wain. It is the Hyperborean commitment. A trip of cats in the ramble and row of concommitant relations. A pride of the ephemeral and chaste.

To growl pleasantly upon the hillock and berm. A respite’s pace for youngsters in the brood. Wresting the gracious harbingers’ their traps. That a lady may carry the way in bringing on the hungers of a panged heart. Identifying the longing of the church for the cross.

A halted line of workhorse. The road gear and swag of a traveling manage of concerts. All the wise and rye dalliances with the favorable Mrs. To brave the conduct of the tamers and wranglers of the equine boss. Work and play. Love and sustinence. Sleep and interaction.

The packing in and packing out of treasure and debris. To see the winding hill and bend in the wood for well cared after portions of the forested country. To identify the embellished retreat for its pleeched walls of bowery and Linden and to know that like a ship at sea all is not so well with the captain and his men.

The force of the spirit can fall disparately into the hands of the self loathing. What a horrible romance it is to get lost in drink. How uncertain our culture does become in trying to lay deception upon the generations. How to believe in those generations without forgeting the self. I think the selfless can be awfully needy people. And how may we forgive if the resurgence of past transgressions is the faulty laud of persons at the heel of our own shitty provender.

Back on the road and traveling enmasse. 1,2,3 maybe 4 periods within a system of lifetimes that I can remember living without the confines of a settled home. Seasonal or year round. The lights of heaven twinkle from the edge of a family fire. The circle of wagons gets the oily treatment for the squeaky wheel. The horses receive a pleasant tide of oats in a mash. The children linger after supper and as the men tap whiskey some marm of the householders’ begins in on a song or a story.

Like it or not the days pass much in the same way throughout the seasons. One might just complain or comment on the weather or local constabulary or even recently having been snubbed at suggestion of a romantic walk by a young woman decidedly in need of her space. No more to throw a mark at the rents. To have care for a little child so curious as to the maids whereabouts for moments beyond the easy feet that have that child only so far into his journey.

Likened in the vestures of life as may permit his taking to the floor to treat with another youngin or else one of the family dogs. These also limited in adherence to the rules of the caravan and knowing the bout of digression not worthy of the trust in there compassion as beasts of the friendly persuation. Also haply glad and attentive to the banter of the clandestined folk holing up in a pocket of the woods.

This for a week while waiting for a stock of supplies necessary to end a passage South to finish out Winter. Going to be near the seaside in warmer climes and within easy reach of the smoked fish. A meal known to be of a good sustinence and resource for their traveling ilk to at times feast on.

Glad to remember and glad to have been a part. Retired for now thinking sometimes on a new start. A little timey in the country, a little timbre sounding in town. The roads and the miles extend while the night camp circles the wagons round.

Magic, Spirit, Healing, Practice

Fear. Fear of death. Fear of the unknown. And the converse. Those things longed for, or sorrowed after or in so many ways more familiar found to overjoy.

Boo! Aaaah. Ooooh. Yes. Yes I see it now. The long walk up from posterity has found few paradigms that are willing to put it down again. It would seem the Sun was set on a skew wrapped in packing tape and then sent by the barrel like oil for sipping spoons to dole it back out at $100 a pop! Ah yes 👍 casterated oil, snake 🐍 oil, ketchup, patent goods and hairbrained ideas.

Is it beauty that escapes us in looking over? Do the various rites of passage deigned fit for youth at least give us time for a good glimpse at what that beauty provides. We are living longer. I can see in some sense that we are maturing slower. I can see much of the mass hobnobbing down the road. Itself staying mostly silent in it’s affections. And yet there it is also. Stumbling horribly when the gregarious nature of the Holy See at such times looks only to capture or encapsulate that mass for it’s own privy. It’s losing battle with the control principal forced out upon the Western beam.

The demiurge is a well acquainted romantic in the guise of man. Unfortunately having once or a few times seen the great beauty of the Universal and it’s accompanying dreams their is all to often that uninhibited want of the fool to try and ring the thing by the neck. Unfortunately.

The quavering breadth of aetherial space and it’s surround of the Earth is an entity of no uncertain persuation. Let Mother Nature be. Let her ways remain free of the constant need to turn her into a queen bee pumping out the flesh to be forced to survive on a limited planet of now diminishing resources. Let the vision be. But do not repeatedly ask for the weird or freaky when those things out of control do not belong in your direct means of manifestation.

The Earth and the Universal are physical in so many ways. But God and Mother Nature are not always involved in the matter to the same extent. Confusing this issue has literally put us behind the wheel of our own destruction. It would be a whole lot wiser if the roll call of the flesh were not so highly conceited by the want of power 💪 brokers to take control of everything that comes before them or happens to pass their way throughout the normal cycles of life and death in revolution of the heavens.

We are failing at this test of our spirits miserably. The more of a grip we need on the collar of earthlife and mankind the less coherent are we in our person and the more liable and inculpable we are in regards to those things that still remain out of our reach. Not to make that want of possession out to trespass. And not to further taint the remaining domains of regenerative Earth. Knowing not to entertain our jealousy and pride in going about always trying to divine the creative nature of life is a best practice.

It is simple enough to be thrilled at times by the nature of the world 🌎. While those things without a good nature are like a burden of the cross. Inanimate. Bent. Dark as a hole. And demanding the flesh for it’s perversity and it’s pilage.

The right to live a life of spiritual practice while making good on the surrounding environment is not all about the medium of exchange. The best measures to calculate by can usually be apprehended just by finding them where they happen to lay. And dark or macabre as you might think that ease is to be found in the grave. Not the body dead and packed away in a six-sided box with an appropriate tombstone kind of grave. But in regards to the heavenly bodies of the solar system, the Galaxy, and thus the Universe.

That meaning of the grave will bring us into time of being together with the likeness of our offspring and brethren. It will go so far as to open the gates of heaven. And it will keep the constitution of the body human nice and snug.

Still it is best to beware of strange tidings in that grave. Hold your own and try to stay safe when it comes to letting go. Of those things dross or unnecessary. Always coming up with the foment of tide in the washing of the many sands. Knowing them that are longing for respect and acceptance. And not to be disuaded by the crass handling of a medicine wheel bunch of drunken lunatics.

Faith to me seems the best approach to the unknown and yet that faith remain within the realm of possibility. Communication is a working kind of faith. Relate to one another in an honest means to convey what might simply be called wisdom or at least that it is sage.

Stories and reckoning are good. But so is the tradition of honor which does not always get spoken of lightly or in times of jest. For the better care of this planet and her children I would continue in the scale of this practice and make good on the peace of a peaceful community.

Stay fit and practice good health. Remember though to respect others if there wishes or means of keeping up that practice does not include those things outside their element and without their own good blessing way or a belief in a higher power. We are a familiar set of individuals whose own discretion will best bring each of us into the light of peaceful community and cohabitation. Beyond that the only ones we need control are our ourselves.