Sunday, August 17, 2014

my competence is sectoid

a muscle in a shell

my words a scripture for a mind

hearts of sufi remain open

welcome to the coming

what is the heart

what hollow timber

a word love

every thing yet never seen

by some blind to All

we have billions within us

to work with

all those boys in the past

dead as i die today

to rise on morrow's gain

the sterility of the now

tell them you were here

no past no future

no causality

a step

a new 14 hour version

spit different every rise

leaving notes

the very oldest

conversant with time

speaking again

of cycle