A long poem: I,who, me and you!
-
Justin Wade 1
- Posts: 1
- Joined: 28 Nov 2022, 17:04
- Bookshelf Size: 0
A long poem: I,who, me and you!
I, who, me and you!
It all started when Who was six!
When I was six?
No when Who was six, when I and Who were six, correction when I and Who were two at the age of six!
Too confusing lets go back to the start.
It all started when I and Who were betwixt the ages of six and two.
I remembers well!
I do!
Skinny boy out of bed tousled head, Saturday morning 1978, breakfast at table corn-flakes ate...
Who started awake?
Saturday morning 78, break fast at the table corn-flakes ate, intent on a spot not a jot more than a mere 3 foot from the T.V set...
What about Who?
Stick to whats relevant, prevalent, self-evident, it’s not about Who but the two, not for us who’s Who as you wont find Who in a book of Who’s who.
True!
Regain composure, it’s about the exposure of Who and what that’s to do with the T.V in 73.
I wasn’t even born then.
That in it’s self is the point, semi-domesticated not totally free, Oh what Who, I would give to be totally free.
Semi-domesticated on one bended knee one hand out stretched....
Enough, Who wants to know more about that television in 1973!
The saturation and duration of exposure was enough to enclose your dear Who in the dreams and aspirations of another nation, direct to your eyes from the T.V station.
Who thinks they stood a chance, Who thinks I cares too much.
Ha, Who has a clue!
Lets go back to the beginning, 1978 Who and I are two at the age of 4.
Does I remember the wallpaper?
Yes, Who was afraid I was enthralled, wrapped in a blanket as I gently falls, between the bed and the wall.
Who never let you down!
Who and I lay enamored and appalled as the paper pattern shift on the wall, from fantastically huge to infinitesimally small.
As fast as the eye can blink. Who thinks that life is a circle or a ring...
Who doesn’t know that it’s more like an orb or a ball an inter-tangential where with all.
Like a ball?
Sure, a ball is simply many circles intersecting, all round interconnecting, symmetry, spatial mimicry!
So whats the point of that?
Ah, the point is a tangent, a spot if you will, all the same except in drill, position in space, place.
Too confusing, lets go back to the start!
It’s too late for that. Every point on a sphere is perfectly the same but, obviously not, difference is an outside action...are you warming up, getting hot?
Who’s warming to the point but, in real life, why does it matter, how can it apply?
Every day is a tangent on the ball of your life, just like any other but, if it were just a circle you be trapped, laid-low may-hap. On the face of a sphere every direction is clear, what goes around come around on a circle not a sphere!
No the face of a sphere every direction is clear.
Choices?
I has choices and its down to the ball the original choice the where of all. Ask me of God and I’ll show you a ball the ever expanding Universe of all!
Who asks why there was a super-mass at all?
The more interesting question put to me was, why the choice to be? Let the super-mass and Universe be all that you feel and all that you see, touch, taste and heady dream. Don’t you see the first choice was to BE!
And the wallpaper?
It’s clear as plain as day the movement on the wall was the Universal way, expansion and contraction filled with confused distraction....
Kinda like the T.V, it’s a choice, I don’t follow.
I leads, Who follows!
You?
No me, Me is the tangent on the ball of life, I can’t do it while Who’s in strife. Sitting three feet from the T.V, looking through space and time instantaneously, I is in 78, Who’s living in the past with the T.V in 1958 with the nodding head of ‘Mr. Ed’ talking from his black and white shed saying ‘Hello Wilbur!’
Who see’s no link no connection.
Who’ll wait twenty minutes more, T.V will be in 1974 and I’ll get down to the neat beat from the seeded street where Who’ll delve into twelve down that golden rollaway...1,2,3,4,5...,6,7,8,9,10...,11,12!
The point, the choices, I understands, but Who doesn’t.
Choices, degradation, placation and eradication of a nation by a nation beamed direct to your eyes from the T.V station.
I understands the influence of T.V!
Ha, Who grew up with 1963!!!
Listen, it all started in 1978, break fast at the table, tangent straight to a spot not a jot more than 3 foot from the T.V, which lied to Who and me.
I talks, Who doesn’t understand.
63, 58, 65 all years before I or Who were alive, yet these years showed us lies.
Lies I cries, what lies, Who sees no lies!
As a compression of the expression from another nations values on the tender minds of our Mes’ and Yous’!
Too confusing lets go back to the start.
When I and Who were betwixt the age of six and two, indoctrinated shall we say to set our foot a certain way upon the cosmic ball.
Every day a tangent!
Too true dear Who, too true. Every day a tangent upon the sphere and as each passes another draws near.
Near to What?
Near to another you, informed and molded by an inner view, remember the wall paper?
Sure, wrapped in a blanket as we gently fall between the bed and the wall.
Just so, and so you know how the infinitesimally small can suddenly grow, this deception of perception, though majestic in it’s conception, like the birth of a Universe...
Just like the birth of a Universe?
From little seeds grow all that you know, I has already stated and it is related so.
How so?
Listen to my voice, it’s related by awareness of choice. Although the T.V beamed both to you and me the semblance of another’s reality, semi-domesticated not totally free the Universal power of choice set I, Who, You and Me free!.....
Yet,
We hear no protests from disgruntled nations, no grand placations from international T.V network stations, While You, just like I and Who pass ever more time on Play-stations, growing morbid and obease, morbidly obese, so much so that gravity begins to crease.
Why, oh why has it become a crime to move amongst the monkey divine?
And don’t get me started as I stands here broken hearted before the alter of the simian divine,
low and behold the monkey mimics,
makes psychological gimmicks out of yet to be defined particle physics.
Why Higgs-Boson could be chosen to become the One,
the next prodigal Son!
It all started when Who was six!
When I was six?
No when Who was six, when I and Who were six, correction when I and Who were two at the age of six!
Too confusing lets go back to the start.
It all started when I and Who were betwixt the ages of six and two.
I remembers well!
I do!
Skinny boy out of bed tousled head, Saturday morning 1978, breakfast at table corn-flakes ate...
Who started awake?
Saturday morning 78, break fast at the table corn-flakes ate, intent on a spot not a jot more than a mere 3 foot from the T.V set...
What about Who?
Stick to whats relevant, prevalent, self-evident, it’s not about Who but the two, not for us who’s Who as you wont find Who in a book of Who’s who.
True!
Regain composure, it’s about the exposure of Who and what that’s to do with the T.V in 73.
I wasn’t even born then.
That in it’s self is the point, semi-domesticated not totally free, Oh what Who, I would give to be totally free.
Semi-domesticated on one bended knee one hand out stretched....
Enough, Who wants to know more about that television in 1973!
The saturation and duration of exposure was enough to enclose your dear Who in the dreams and aspirations of another nation, direct to your eyes from the T.V station.
Who thinks they stood a chance, Who thinks I cares too much.
Ha, Who has a clue!
Lets go back to the beginning, 1978 Who and I are two at the age of 4.
Does I remember the wallpaper?
Yes, Who was afraid I was enthralled, wrapped in a blanket as I gently falls, between the bed and the wall.
Who never let you down!
Who and I lay enamored and appalled as the paper pattern shift on the wall, from fantastically huge to infinitesimally small.
As fast as the eye can blink. Who thinks that life is a circle or a ring...
Who doesn’t know that it’s more like an orb or a ball an inter-tangential where with all.
Like a ball?
Sure, a ball is simply many circles intersecting, all round interconnecting, symmetry, spatial mimicry!
So whats the point of that?
Ah, the point is a tangent, a spot if you will, all the same except in drill, position in space, place.
Too confusing, lets go back to the start!
It’s too late for that. Every point on a sphere is perfectly the same but, obviously not, difference is an outside action...are you warming up, getting hot?
Who’s warming to the point but, in real life, why does it matter, how can it apply?
Every day is a tangent on the ball of your life, just like any other but, if it were just a circle you be trapped, laid-low may-hap. On the face of a sphere every direction is clear, what goes around come around on a circle not a sphere!
No the face of a sphere every direction is clear.
Choices?
I has choices and its down to the ball the original choice the where of all. Ask me of God and I’ll show you a ball the ever expanding Universe of all!
Who asks why there was a super-mass at all?
The more interesting question put to me was, why the choice to be? Let the super-mass and Universe be all that you feel and all that you see, touch, taste and heady dream. Don’t you see the first choice was to BE!
And the wallpaper?
It’s clear as plain as day the movement on the wall was the Universal way, expansion and contraction filled with confused distraction....
Kinda like the T.V, it’s a choice, I don’t follow.
I leads, Who follows!
You?
No me, Me is the tangent on the ball of life, I can’t do it while Who’s in strife. Sitting three feet from the T.V, looking through space and time instantaneously, I is in 78, Who’s living in the past with the T.V in 1958 with the nodding head of ‘Mr. Ed’ talking from his black and white shed saying ‘Hello Wilbur!’
Who see’s no link no connection.
Who’ll wait twenty minutes more, T.V will be in 1974 and I’ll get down to the neat beat from the seeded street where Who’ll delve into twelve down that golden rollaway...1,2,3,4,5...,6,7,8,9,10...,11,12!
The point, the choices, I understands, but Who doesn’t.
Choices, degradation, placation and eradication of a nation by a nation beamed direct to your eyes from the T.V station.
I understands the influence of T.V!
Ha, Who grew up with 1963!!!
Listen, it all started in 1978, break fast at the table, tangent straight to a spot not a jot more than 3 foot from the T.V, which lied to Who and me.
I talks, Who doesn’t understand.
63, 58, 65 all years before I or Who were alive, yet these years showed us lies.
Lies I cries, what lies, Who sees no lies!
As a compression of the expression from another nations values on the tender minds of our Mes’ and Yous’!
Too confusing lets go back to the start.
When I and Who were betwixt the age of six and two, indoctrinated shall we say to set our foot a certain way upon the cosmic ball.
Every day a tangent!
Too true dear Who, too true. Every day a tangent upon the sphere and as each passes another draws near.
Near to What?
Near to another you, informed and molded by an inner view, remember the wall paper?
Sure, wrapped in a blanket as we gently fall between the bed and the wall.
Just so, and so you know how the infinitesimally small can suddenly grow, this deception of perception, though majestic in it’s conception, like the birth of a Universe...
Just like the birth of a Universe?
From little seeds grow all that you know, I has already stated and it is related so.
How so?
Listen to my voice, it’s related by awareness of choice. Although the T.V beamed both to you and me the semblance of another’s reality, semi-domesticated not totally free the Universal power of choice set I, Who, You and Me free!.....
Yet,
We hear no protests from disgruntled nations, no grand placations from international T.V network stations, While You, just like I and Who pass ever more time on Play-stations, growing morbid and obease, morbidly obese, so much so that gravity begins to crease.
Why, oh why has it become a crime to move amongst the monkey divine?
And don’t get me started as I stands here broken hearted before the alter of the simian divine,
low and behold the monkey mimics,
makes psychological gimmicks out of yet to be defined particle physics.
Why Higgs-Boson could be chosen to become the One,
the next prodigal Son!
