tHe eNd Of tHE bEgINNIng

dear friends frds~

  Glossypapered     sypd is
                 far from finished!, not finished, moss 
 but it
will be moving, t un raveling

    in anoment 
    oe pit oon
         soon       to b. e
                     iterative moments number 2
   thexnetapereom  iteration's arrival will
be broadcast on all channels. stay !tuned!

discover

a clear globe or

silver structure in space

hangs from threads

threaded like silk,

and distant sounds of bells

in the distance.

inside slim images

revolve and careen upon

what seems to some

a screen a wave

of rain moving

inland engulfs

comfortably

sits still washing

in a stream begins to

with favored eyes

go forward and more toward

a great wind

what kind of sacred images

do you have? said

the one important

man to the other.

All types replied

a by now entirely tired

of haggling soft

or often strong voice

and this action

recalled first every

other word he’d ever spoken

and then,

only the words of deep love

and after that a thousand

images formed from silence

were called back into

the world. And it’s

all of that that the

first and profoundly religious man

missed and walked out

onto the street alone.

hand in hand

checkered quilts

and thin made-of-air

veils adorned

the procession.

Mostly drunk

on wine the revelers

spun through the winding

streets of our

ancient city

and they always stopped

at each apartment

to give gifts

of flowers and food.

Honeysuckle, raw leaf

and raw grass, millions

of petals and even feathers

fanned down on lucky

citizens, that

was a big festival!

green whose color is wrapped

up; can see or

seen to be

wrapped up in a shell

whose very seeds

only spread outward,

under a brightly dawning

sun walk into it forget it.

Rolling backward

traversing cavernous pitches

catches brightly lit

squares of colors dawning

again colors bleeding into

one another once more

of with sweeping

swaying glances overcome me

jumping ledges off to

taste to

oh waves

leaping at me now,

rather you would just

lap at my feet

then bite my tongue.

but if what you do

is the only all

you can,

then i’ll stand among you

and love your leaps

and bounds, grow old

and tired and wise

with your salty taste

a mile long upon my memory.

the impressiveness toward it resounds

hung across layers

of sky in the fashion

of that day windows

the rational and always

foremost thoughts open grown

now to greater heights

and underswayingleaves

the sea appeared, dreaming

straight into the sun

and hugging even greater

guarding the entrance

what he asked then.

The significance

clearest dreaming hills

under by streams upon

hills mountains

gifts

kings handed out presents

to other kings,

queens and other people

received til they could

receive no more.

simple sorts of stories

told all month long

to the sound of trains

distantly running.

With palms open and out-

stretched presents

can be exchanged

forever.

oblivioussing, canvassing

the normal step

is short,

met with quick glimpses

and occasional

wide eyes,

going toward the harbor

a haven

a port of entry.

the faster style

of step passes

unseen and grows,

with fleet feet,

toward the peaks

of most mountains.

look at just this

on plains and

before doors

when rain comes

the place empties,

with growing force

but less tension

striking a meeting,

casting money around

like true wealth.

the real material

instead of stuff

it’s made of tough

always-yielding stuff

giving in to the real

thought now:

go! go! go! and

never, ever with what-

ever think…

or start or

stop, my thought…

moving always

born moving,

thrown into the wind

and there

speaking withit

always.

all animals sleep,

words will daze as well.

or instead of light

nighttime exists too

the two of them

the other certainty.

they were more for flying

your quickest thought

will save the next stop.

our last stop was

red with content,

the lions dove in lakes

but bears love honey,

or perhaps the lights

are beneath us…

with questioning looks

hawks and lions gave up

their steady gazes

to fall

so deep

into the sea

to sink as farther

as possible i

love i see de nuevo

de nuevo de nue-

a new idea.

close to undertows multiplying

grew in the shade

of a tall tree

and caressed the leaves there,

and fit the hand to

the bark.

With time

comes everything

in time and in time

to the music.

Under the pull

of the sea

it’s easy to be

drowsy on its sigh,

nitetime in the eyes

and boundlessly comfortable

wrapped in

an ultimate form a

shape of infinite undress

and colored silkworms

and spiders butterflies

multiplying freely,

hugeness blooming.

institute intuit

now that

i’ve stopped

by here to smell

and to touch;

now that i can

smell the rain

falling gently

a rain drop touches

my nose- a kiss

we make together.

the arco iris we've come to

pots of gold?

and still fotos

creeper upon the vine

move, we arrived

last night

yet sounds of water

still resound

and in more stills

or moments

sound

the new sound

breath of summer

night rebounds.

freed overnight with droplets free

grazing lands farther

west hundreds of big

animals traveling together.

quiet repetition

whose softest voice

ebbs oceanlike

as the shore.

crown of this,

now, and always

humid to clear,

humid to clear

eyes silver wishing

to reflect a thousand

and one stars.

discus discuss the terms

for my release”

discis laughed

and discus

repeated a

phrase that often

before he

had used

with so much velocity

that dolphins

swimming far along

the ocean floor

could not know

what secret methods,

what mysterious employments

had been employed

there.

Before it had been

something large and complex

to utter

but now it seemed

so easy so decidedly

simple.

true

the height of everything

contained within it,

a single point

blinking like

light,

exhaling soft droplets

of grownsoftness,

grown from many worms

this silk

between my fingers

gleams or

glistens to music

created everywhere

inhales a steady

air of newness

and moves

what’s more.

explain emotion

emotion explains:

“plain to the naked eye

a fast runner,

hurtling across the plains,

seems to insightfully

gain your meaning

the one you hurled

at the world at

large and with it attempted

large things before

you only thought of

and now had received.

A gift from the sky

came to you, you

exclaimed:

‘Oh!’ and passed

out beneath the sun,

awaiting the moon.”

touching only certain textures

realizing only some things

i came to a realization:

i said, “i think

I know.” i knew

i knew something

but i slipped at

true answers

or grasped at

false images

or took pebbles into

my palm.

I’m starting to see

no pattern,

this begins

to make little sense

as i aware of

what goes around

will walk more

around this at

every angle reaching out

to touch.