tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828758341858263502024-03-17T23:03:53.503-04:00Simple Theoriespoems, fireflies...Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.comBlogger1522125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-20542967610329052772024-03-03T12:15:00.003-05:002024-03-03T12:15:44.723-05:00Language<p> <span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18.3px;">When language was young, bright lights were rare and meaningless. Trees could not doctor a frog or patiently remove time. Night was borne but Language barely stayed. Exclamation became a grace note in long guttural longings of sonic impulse. Language only felt right. Pictures were brief moments of motion, like a rabbit but flatter. Pictures wanted certainty in a blaze. Certainty was just a rock or stick, sometimes a cloud, like heaven in your mind. How could language be anything but a slicing noise in the candid empty and only implied. What is implication but the rushing sound of grass. Language doesn’t stick out. It is landscape. A breeze, the effort of leaves, muttering doves, underground surgings, oh language began some time, ago. Now what can you say after language? A steady rock in your mind remains.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18.3px;"><br /></span></div>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-76077602259043985392024-02-25T17:40:00.003-05:002024-02-25T17:40:23.398-05:00Green<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">The green earth resists patience. The green earth bets on spring. The green earth occludes in the jamming space of time. Do you have memories of planting, yourself? Effective vision of radiant impulse applies. Waiting simply concedes. The energy of process grinds in chlorophyll. All time and then some time. It takes a bit of reflection to spot the formation. The whole green of green populates a thought. A triumph, you may say, of instant, living. You have time to say sorry, you have time to restore. The greening elegantly stretches. Time becomes a bit in monstrance, no other language applies. That love is the creature itself, green as the gaining. However the practice, picnic in a grove, astonished restart, the language full of words for what. Here is the resonant and complex, daily flash green on green on applying green.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-26732120097461389652024-02-25T14:57:00.003-05:002024-02-25T14:57:26.446-05:00Eye<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">We see the eye as an organ with general fluxing agency. It paints a world of painted worlds. In the bold compendium of thought, Emerson had an Eye in mind, transparent but ready for vast or small. It resides in the </span><em style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">mind’s sigh</em><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">, let us say. This eye sees or seizes, and it calls you to pace. An eye can only, and often does. Look how the rain blithely spatters the ground except that it is snow and the ground a common bison. Shakespeare called the eye ‘vile jelly’, abetting the groan of sadness in drama and changing. The eye proves possible tho cultish in application. Anyone can have tears, seen in the moment. To what witness do you listen? It could be time to forgive. Soften your grip, meaning now. Trees swayed in the wind today, but tomorrow may be dark. That field, that place, that time. You surely see what I mean.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-70289542570186450672024-02-24T02:57:00.001-05:002024-02-24T02:57:07.646-05:00Meteorite (Entering The Chasm)<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">Rock in motion evanescent. The vaporous field day moment, listen. Apt briefness. Tucked in transit light. Seeing the skirting. Immediate almost response to vision. Opulent effective brand meeting. Hot taken. Definite clash with almost. Near by interest. Slurry of sentence. Proud to be profoundly plainly infinite in the sentence, current. See as seem, seem as ever.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.7em; padding: 0px;"><em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Some of these statements may redound for you. This cannot be explained.</em></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.7em; padding: 0px;"><em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></em></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-7548851338821576322024-02-22T22:19:00.001-05:002024-02-22T22:19:03.781-05:00Stone<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">Stone abbreviates everything with insular condition. Stone as in rock, the hard moment clustering. Integrity changes time in a political way, you are rapt. Rock presence until rock not only not never but continent dilated as watered rock. Lived as living stone forms as strong form, in a moment of make. Earth’s stern vindication of place toys with gravity. Ironclad resolution of place identifies as molecular portion. Let your mind kick rocks. Explode wide. It’s a beautiful world.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-1521890071540659442024-02-12T13:19:00.003-05:002024-02-12T13:19:29.443-05:00Dell<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">In consideration of where you are, a low place embowered by trees: probably a </span><em style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">dell</em><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">. Also possible dale or vale, at least in English plenitude. Look around you, check the underbelly. Language stands between us, sometimes defensive, sometimes still. For shizzle your nizzle, that steeper slope indicates dingle in some way. Note the map in between. Trusty language in a blessing of patent. You are here means somewhere, worthy of definition and defiance. Trees and rocks, the fitful earth relaxes. A poet writes every flake of poem in perhaps words or other engines. The poet as prim vortex concedes to words and their like. Meaning mixes with utter impulses and conditions. You are drawn in, implacably, like the best calm report. And what do you know?</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-78877372850288795342024-02-12T01:35:00.003-05:002024-02-12T01:35:45.105-05:00Sand<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">YOU are the force of sand. Ground to implication and scatter, yet effectively centered. You can boast the briskness of being there, which is here, the element. The polis of integrity, the politics of iota combine like irritation. You are voice as a single word, a document, a sentiment. You can be the ocean itself, waiting in terms and process. So buck up, you are clear, unclaimed, and constant. You smack the beachheads and warzones, and even bear a name thru crossfire winds. The sentence cannot exist without you.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-63644385048425953582024-02-11T13:59:00.003-05:002024-02-11T13:59:58.364-05:00Deity <p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">You say deity when you mean </span><em style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">something</em><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">. It is okay. Green leaves, acorn, the rustle of mice and machination. Perhaps you spot a crow eating transitive verb on a flake of parking lot. Mystery fills by well-timed conjunction. Geese fly over, worn cellphones of engagement, or so you think. Blue can be kind tho grey seems more spacious. A sky forms forever apt in your mind. Spell deity with deity. Rephrase corrosion or pity or cyclical envelopment. You can make up shit on your television, sure, but you are never so lost as to need such entreaties. Rain will follow snow.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-70115508766204277992024-02-11T07:58:00.003-05:002024-02-11T07:58:23.739-05:00Grove<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">A grove realizes packed sanctity. Trees judged as trees not minions. Deity hidden in, in trees, in grove, in grounding. Deity as a matter of fact, like plunging thru clouds. But the eternal something, brown waves, green consistory, and waxy fabulists, proper to the moment. But wait, trees include groves as congregation. Gregarious albeit parsimonious grandeur laden, with leaf. </span><em style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">The provocation</em><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">. You have sacred things in mind, or an odd pine cone. The breeze voices trees. Language has been. Bunch of deities loll, the best you can imagine. But can your words carry trees? You may realize not just anything costs double. The moon each month looks different. A tender zoology awaits in the background.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-7141142746043898482024-02-10T09:44:00.004-05:002024-02-10T09:44:54.508-05:00Orchard<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">Consider the orchard. It judges moments by eons. It knows the passivity of red sunset. The skirling readiness of grey dawn excites the orchard. The trees of orchardness symbolically bear light with vigorous enfranchisement. A word exists for that, if you can find it. Stories told become, which awkwardly implies lanterns. When you walk in orchard you think of the borne fruit. That fruit unravels time in a seductive test case. A blue sky brings proverbs. An aptitude for music, or any gushing of words, or simply the colours between colours, these all cede to orchard as place before place and after. The day begins in moments and slyly ends as well. Consider the orchard.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-28534087640444724732024-02-05T13:56:00.001-05:002024-02-05T13:56:09.682-05:00Acorn<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">Acorn plunges forth with plenary momentum into. Into land and time and time’s structured limit, the year. The acorn fulfills social construct, living in communal scads, in word-like abundance. The grand scape of oak provides an early nest for the frenetic pace of burgeoning acorn. Listen to the solstice. The ripened missile leaves the tree within the light presumption of time. Your time may not have noticed. Squirrels in ardency then proceed as shepherds of energy, rustling up acorns in gorgeous aptitude. Some acorns feed the squirrels, some nestle in loam, to dream the light within. And you are busy too, as rivers pass, winds blows, the people who appear. Your hand can touch another, the acorn holds still for a moment. Perhaps something can be declared in the remaining sun. It can only last forever.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-38008593106422451732024-02-05T05:04:00.003-05:002024-02-05T05:04:38.480-05:00Puddle<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">The water looks so good in this admissible smidgin. Ocean has been pronounced, in deference to your size. A faint eyrie of thought occurs, reflection of sky on the unlunging surface. Limitless sky enclosed. Politics makes ocean sounds, tho puddles. You step into puddle as if death were the messenger. Puddle means remnant in your ocean wayward. Tears collect because poems must be rendered in keen tones. The puddle directly ahead apportions all the messages from the sky you imagined. Your wet feet slake. Monstrance puddle holds love possible. A step in immersion makes chance. The ocean itself cannot stop you. The puddle bears your best smallness, even while sere sun shines.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-52685523818948146252024-02-04T12:08:00.004-05:002024-02-04T12:08:57.007-05:00Town Folk<p> <span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18.3px;">A curious collection of tree-like impulses radicalized by plain speech and a few clouds. Chords form in distant gatherings, like seeds. Town folk strike intransigent poses amidst documents of wonder. They stand firmly green, brown, or red, with invisible books and long strands of history. You feel akin tho nobody sees the linkage. The weather just produces damp fantasies of clime. The trees and their squirrels and rabbits, crows and toad stools, create a literate pattern of daybreak. Noon becomes a summit of action, night brings autumnal musing. Lo, stretch long from eminent light. The people, even you, extends the tidal dialogue. Somehow, Hart Crane knew something. Emily’s book holds you. You can call everything America. It is just a tree without you in mind.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18.3px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-49072538920518968842024-01-28T11:03:00.003-05:002024-01-28T11:03:49.161-05:00Sky<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">The sky occurs low in our manufactured breath. Clouds surprise you, dotting those sentences you prize. It feels like trees in the beginning. The higher sky feeds birds and dust. Further still, the sky lets planets wander. The feast arrives soon and softening. Something in the time between words serves as space. Call it your own, for now. The sky collects dust and rainfall and whatever you think you have. Derivatives occur as a just plan. You have seen the smoke and soot. The sky stiffens into limits, then a cloud. Recitations meander as easily as the filling of storm drains. The sky up there is the sky in there. You can remember that.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-15115911621343772312024-01-27T10:58:00.004-05:002024-01-27T10:58:50.584-05:00Bud Break<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">A warm sensation after all, and before you can let go. Transitive exult in watering pattern. An adventure of filing forth translates into words or bare sonic release. The trees have heaven squared. You can talk like that today. News straightens the verb tense. The continents shake out. Pluvious blue billows of transport, as the poem goes. And it cannot help but go. A leaf reports as liege, a worm wriggles in the duff.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-66381028000989962682024-01-21T15:44:00.003-05:002024-01-21T15:44:26.984-05:00Earthquake <p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">When the waters of blood rise, you have your earthquake. You have to be close and tight and in the city. Funding for rankle will reach accord. No fault can be extended but faultlines. A noise will fill constitution, as if people concerned. Towers like ash. Votes contain corporations in the late aesthetic. Darkness in connection with darkness, geologic moon tide. Here your resolution invades the down. Lowered expectations rise to prominence. The country has become a piece of lost wood. You don’t know the reach of fire anymore. Anyway, the quick detachment, onerous satiety in exclusive precincts, a big town dropping down. Let the rumble be the music for the last time you looked.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-29525052226771018682024-01-19T20:29:00.002-05:002024-01-19T20:29:22.909-05:00Tyrannosaurus Rex<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">Yes, a dream of big teeth in house-sized anxiety space. A time in the misty prevailing when cool monster without simpering mellow feathering determined the impact of physical luscious fear. The specimen creates the maximal thunder king sound with ultra lizard shadows that meet you at political nervy night. Did Rex trundle on the outpost land like human antipathy, or race earth-low with lizard slink into the mindless ultimatum of acme predation. It’s all great. There were signs of presidents, rooted in televised commerce, who on two feet, almost, stood. You can settle this with the flash of your vote. A cannonade of hind legs matched with adjudicated forelegs: see the matchstick to irrelevant weakness. The space between your charming monster America and the bleeding standard churn smells like prey.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-8108141152092079332024-01-17T09:38:00.003-05:002024-01-17T09:38:37.296-05:00Sleep<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">This power function that you indulge in and avoid. Sleep must blink, while you ride. What isn’t sleep slips past, or almost. You can think about numbers and those who turned dreams. Freud wrote a book about himself eating olives, confusing sleep. Down time miasma listed in visual expression without time. Or if time existed, you could record the pictures and gaze upon an unreliable field. You can’t run in your sleep because, but only for your own good. Are you then good at all or has tectonic shifts created new plenary place. Focus! You are awake now, or should be. You were all day, now sleep time fashions evocations of straining just to meet. This plain of advantage sustains rest and relief. The village in you endures.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-32894017253231785832024-01-15T03:37:00.003-05:002024-01-15T03:37:16.928-05:00Peanut<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">A jaunty celeb and activation of emprise, the peanut resides forever and ultra in the god’s gift gallery. Peanuts provide food of the highest order, unless you are allergic to them, in which case avoid and let austerity lead you on. Peanuts offer scads of protein on the cheap—they’re the low-income choice for those facing the bereaving beam of socio-economic pawndom. You can still scratch the earth! The earth cozzens plentifully with promises of upgrade. As a legume, the peanut plant fixes nitrogen into the soil. This is a symbionic good, something like righteous community service. Legumes improve poor soil and thereby hardscrabble existence in touching simplicity. The peanut gives succour, and a child’s view of wealth.That part of town sees increase. Vishnu, Preserver, you’re a genius!P</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-57138188093779926122024-01-13T09:09:00.002-05:002024-01-13T09:09:16.554-05:00Land<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">Some bold exit place for only feet of venture. How flat seems the distance between here and now as a garden invented by fronds. Distance proves impeccable, asserting possession. Imagine a sun just beyond that hill. Moments ago a vegetable, awaiting orogenic fumbling. The table poises, poses. That sound of nothing moving creates that external spark. Land becomes process, movement staid. Town erupts into faction because you know the knot. Address bears tokenized isolation. You have trod upon the land, almost.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-63180254038615545962024-01-07T19:23:00.000-05:002024-01-07T19:23:22.598-05:00Water<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">Water lives not always water, and you cannot be always green. You </span><em style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">could</em><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;">, if you know water invites your star. Water makes simple, as your greenness infers. Think the river, startling the land. Changing each moment as a movement and blood flow, your established praxis shies from rest. Water doesn’t rest. The stammering of steam and hard abeyance of ice signal infinite vitality at the drop of a hat. The hat goes maybe mobile in the always left behind. Time has been clean and dirty for you, in watery regard. Light glints water you, in changing notes. Ahead is the past you arrived at. Your smile can grow enormous.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-2777734179330747672024-01-07T10:34:00.003-05:002024-01-07T10:34:22.016-05:00Winter<p> <span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18.3px;">Motor of snow on ageless ground. Heft makes factions. How snow the weight is, in winter verity. But are you only about dead silent? The voice Of fabliau Like ripest Orogeny. Pines embrace wind movement and voice. Squirrel swing thru the time peace ready to live and die. Roadways only suggest direction. Bulbs huddle complete in the soil and nuance. Hold on, a match or idea embarks as day. Sentiment fills memory. Come on now, allow the forgetting.</span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-21919351131159800412024-01-01T11:37:00.003-05:002024-01-01T11:37:25.362-05:00Words<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-87456716538517491612023-12-29T07:49:00.002-05:002023-12-29T07:49:12.327-05:00Sand<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">As if everything were something. You see rife but each grain bears a word. Words don't stop: shadow frame fields . A geology of words promulgates some statute of promise. Whole worlds needs forgetting, one syllable at a time. The Ur of thought, city state and grunt. Grains of sand, once aggregate, a moment. Sand has been in process forever, to the limits of </span><em style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">+ever</em><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;"> as a word. The teeth of water and wind have ground, and have grounded. You feel sand in your shoe since ancient times and now. You can only listen minutely, a system of wind and rain that sets your city-state beaming. Here the ancient minute, as you understand.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1482875834185826350.post-14629177348935697242023-12-25T16:15:00.002-05:002023-12-25T16:15:20.946-05:00Bacteria<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;">The horde manages. In querulous crowd each bacterium rattles swords as a function of ruction. Ruction brings the bear of action. Bacteria has stuff to do and do this in the present listing pressure to do. Ready to inflame but not entirely negative presences, bacteria gather momentum. Like you and your tidal dreams, bacteria think prosperity at every moment. The think mind expands to giddy unlimited and frack (wrenches the rock). Universes are for filling. The candy of delight motivates the heated action. Tears cannot quench. A star, a star hangs proper in the sky forever while you witness. You are the energy you eat.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: "Noto Serif", serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p>Simple Theorieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03668925222933772694noreply@blogger.com0