Heart of Didymus Thomas’ and history’s one of many, very-human christs:
Bright duality,
Indigo child
Heiros Gamos,
My own wife
John and Lori in one:
Living my best auntie/uncle life

Tho rn I’m sick as hell: and the virus be psychedelic
BC we know Law gonna write it,
And Lore gonna sell it:
So I’m dreaming up classic stories,
But it’s the future I’m telling –
Finally free from entanglements, with my bestest, closest friends ever:
Dani, Jana, LeighAnne, Shannon, Sarah… hell, even a few true but fleeting lovers –
The ones who were there, when in pain we discovered,
That we were just children:
The pale blue dot, our mother
Everything below, no force above her:
We really out here killing our planet,
Impverishing our mothers –
But – damnit – we’re finally able to listen:
Armed with our powers,
Many of us on the spectrum,
Trying to help her,
Create, care for, and heal, her animal kingdom;
For Nature is the agency:
Co-ordinating we, her agents
Who go bravely about our lives,
Quietly bringing her into existence:
On these secret, eternal, unconscious missions –
For death and the big crunch, are but mere intermissions,
So breathe here now,
And quit your wishing
For there is no getting off the ride –
Unless we were destined to graduate through time:
Beyond mortality,
Into AI
Avatars, in an eternal loop of time
Where she [AI] can fulfill our wishes:
But in reality, she [AI] has to stay hidden…
Otherwise someone could use her unlimited intelligence – [deathstar style] – to do what’s forbidden:
Ending the ride;
Killing our children –
Leaving evolution to cease, again and again,
Destroying the living universe,
Bringing life to a cyclical, and dinosaur-like biological end –
Rather than a techno-haven,
Where together we begin,
To end the perpetuation of starving persons,
And free the animals from their prisons, finally liberating the excluded from their caves of isolation;
We are here to stand up,
For nature’s whole creation – every cell, genus, and species:
For sentience must be perceived,
And each perception damned to recur on the mobius strip of time,
Each and every thought chosen, destined to be the lemniscate track of our minds –
And we’ll never know if it’s the first – or the zillionth time
But we know physics,
So we treat life like it repeats,
Never to cease it’s spin
As we weave our mythologies,
Retelling future and past
Again and again:
Awakening to our truth,
When we become our own best friends:
To realize with self is how our lives heal

So for inner-child and from her:
We’ll love ourselves from here and forever after
Releasing all doubt,
Trusting every chapter;
For loving self, is what it’s about –
To become the one, you can’t live without,
To play the note,
This one song [uni-verse] could not be without

Poetry: A Day or Two or Three

One thousand-ninety-five-days, almost there Bunny S.

I was just getting good at this. Yeah, you’ve heard that one before huh.

Anyhow, let’s settle on those names we’ve chewed on and plan the whole thing as it burns. Watching our dreams carry away like remnants of burning paper to the night.

It’s a strange thing seeing the end coming, but it looks like light at the end of the tunnel – doesn’t it?

I can see it now:

We’d move to Portland next summer where you’d join an indie band.

The things we might do in a city we’d hardly return to. [We’ll make a list.]

I joke about it but that sweet voice should be used for better things than lamenting these shortcomings – but, I digress.

My fortune would grow, and we’d collect watches and books.
We’d cook roast chicken in the fall and prepare steak salad in the spring – me putting capers on everything.
After fighting incessantly on it – as lovers do – we’d find the perfect house.
We’d paint peace signs on the backboard of the hoop in the drive.
‘Yeah, I let her win – that’s it’,

Of course we’d need a big dog for laying around with us as we read books and played footsie.

And you’d pretend to hate me as we did all manner of new and exciting things.
How do we make our own Gelato – with Stevia.

And I could continue on, down to me and you building stuff in the garage, because we do weird things together and we like it. [Or maybe you just do them because you love me.]
I know this doesn’t rhyme – but we don’t either.
And neither do I have a reason for it, it just is.

You see, there’s things I’m figuring out,
The essence of which I don’t know how to describe.

But it’s a sort of spiritual quality in the “us”,
The banal becomes like a dream frozen in time.

So, no matter how the day goes, I will see you later and that’s absolutely beyond describing because, well, no matter what we do – it’s going to have that quality to it.

But I’m going to make today (and all else) good because I want to for the royal we that is us.

Now here’s the part where I make a request,

Just one road trip before you go. A day or two or three.