winding the world

Imitation Project


The pipeline of my world to ancestor

has been stymied by slurs and distance.

The call of freedom removes sir Nestor

who guides from suffer'd experience.

Forced removal from memory haulage

leaves minds stay in root of all knowledge-

whereby, nothing is known - only way now

is upwards: regain all basics and know-how!

No matter the memory of hind-sight!:

only shapes share similarity.

Under despised disguise: no clarity

one finds confusion in sad psych.

Free man lacks the ropes - indeed the ties from craze

historian lives one memory phase.


One of I

I am your sense of being alive

viewing from afar

    or near?

Nay, no distance.

    The same.

I look outside thru

     thine eyes

I know the world

     that surrounds you

I know the choices - 

     before, during, after

I know what it takes

     to build what you have

But who am I?



A spirit or sprite,

    following for pleasure?

or your shadow?

   animated by you?

An all knowing king-

   setting the path-

I am so intimate,

   mustn't I be?


From whence do I come-

Only ye can say:

For I am YOU-

    dear and true!

The sum of experience

    that makes me

Is ye.


Can I

Can I have a beautiful script

an exercise in beauty

part of the experience

a powerful punch

the desire to follow the letters

simple as their waves wind so

I'm not sure of my script yet

I know my words though

Trust the truth propounded

then show-

then know.


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