Three stars shined through clouds last night
As I sat recording chorus of frogs in moonlit sky
They shine straight through clouds and sometimes trees
If There be, there's more than three of them, Sometimes there's five
And I sat, unafraid, knowing no one could see me
If I turned off computer screen while recording.
I didn't get the coyotes, imagined a wolf, heard some geese
And the traffic of planes and cars intermittently
Got me to thinking of the hum. It's famous around here
The great energy hum of electrical switching stations
Can't get away from it, it's even on shortwave radio on three frequencies
I listened to my phones cause my ears aren't that good
Imagining geese far away in that hum overpowering world's play
And as the frogs mated and called and signed
The geese in valley ruffled feathers, goosed and fell silent.
Like some power modem uploading to central website, but not to relay
But to perhaps localize, or perhaps peter out and catch to drop.
Felt like the goose was goosed by geese, alerting to the drop
Of what's hot, what's good to eat, where you at, what's up, sub-ethereally
It seems an ESP, but maybe it's just brains processing
Like oh, there's frogs... wait for it... trodding through wet plot
"I don't know where I'M Going?" ahh, "Lightstick" an on top
Setup, recording on moss. AND THEN I GET THE MESSAGE.
spring, sex, spring sex, sprex... Is that a type of Lego?
And in all that hum-drum there is certainly messages, multiplexed.
Perhaps, what you put out typically comes back to you, probably inspired it.
Granted it might have to circle the earth, come back, and surprise your behind.
But I want you to know, things take time... thoughts, too.
And if my brain were a computer, I'd only process the Moon if I loved her.
And given it's only Wednesday, I'll have to pencil it in on next Tuesday...
Next to those three stars shining through sky clouds beside,
One of them has to be poetry, don't you think. For if we haven't expression...
we haven't words to speak, questions to ask, imagination to dream..................
The others be Science and Philosophy,
Engineering and Math might complement the sack of skies filled to full with diamonds.
(And there's, gold!!)
As I sat recording chorus of frogs in moonlit sky
They shine straight through clouds and sometimes trees
If There be, there's more than three of them, Sometimes there's five
And I sat, unafraid, knowing no one could see me
If I turned off computer screen while recording.
I didn't get the coyotes, imagined a wolf, heard some geese
And the traffic of planes and cars intermittently
Got me to thinking of the hum. It's famous around here
The great energy hum of electrical switching stations
Can't get away from it, it's even on shortwave radio on three frequencies
I listened to my phones cause my ears aren't that good
Imagining geese far away in that hum overpowering world's play
And as the frogs mated and called and signed
The geese in valley ruffled feathers, goosed and fell silent.
Like some power modem uploading to central website, but not to relay
But to perhaps localize, or perhaps peter out and catch to drop.
Felt like the goose was goosed by geese, alerting to the drop
Of what's hot, what's good to eat, where you at, what's up, sub-ethereally
It seems an ESP, but maybe it's just brains processing
Like oh, there's frogs... wait for it... trodding through wet plot
"I don't know where I'M Going?" ahh, "Lightstick" an on top
Setup, recording on moss. AND THEN I GET THE MESSAGE.
spring, sex, spring sex, sprex... Is that a type of Lego?
And in all that hum-drum there is certainly messages, multiplexed.
Perhaps, what you put out typically comes back to you, probably inspired it.
Granted it might have to circle the earth, come back, and surprise your behind.
But I want you to know, things take time... thoughts, too.
And if my brain were a computer, I'd only process the Moon if I loved her.
And given it's only Wednesday, I'll have to pencil it in on next Tuesday...
Next to those three stars shining through sky clouds beside,
One of them has to be poetry, don't you think. For if we haven't expression...
we haven't words to speak, questions to ask, imagination to dream..................
The others be Science and Philosophy,
Engineering and Math might complement the sack of skies filled to full with diamonds.
(And there's, gold!!)
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