Hey, Clock Wallet!
{Hey Clock Wallet!
Where ya goin’?
Whatchoo doin’? }
A tendency to tangent
Will neither complete the map
Nor lead the treasure to you
If 9/10ths of the law is possession
It’s not who has the map
As much as who has the treasure
Who has the ability
To provide or produce such a promise?
Who will form an Alpha-Logical Society
With a process for reducing redundancy
Saving time and
Since time is money
The seasons are adding up on account
Balance Sheets trembling pending double entry
The minutes will pay the bill for dinner and
The hours have retired
To spend themselves at the club
Each year is gonna cost you
Each month 30 days or so on wholesale terms
If you’re lucky
Each week keeps a promise to itself
This payday will happen next week or
This payday will happen this week
One or the other
Still asking who’s going to form the Chrono-betical Alliance
Cross-referencing all the overlapping aspects
Overflowing the perspective collaborative projections
Escaping the minds and tongues
The finds and the dunks
All the folderol
Flowing over and over and over
1.4.and 1.7.22 sf
MF,WA
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Cloud Convo
I was present
But nobody can account for me except me
The air was crisp and clear like autumn
But it was moving toward spring
The clouds stretched congruent to one another
Filling the sky and leaving little blue yonder
All round curves happy cotton candy and ebullient cartoon clouds
That speak to you to sell candy and other things
Which will require dental care in your adult life
But this time the cloud said
“Hey Sam, we been checkin’ in on you and
we been wondering if me and a few of the happy clouds
can come hang sometime in your cabin,
I mean, if we can all fit and
it’s cool with you….”
I said “Sounds cool, man, I’ll check with my wife,
I’ve never had clouds as guests before inside the cabin
But I had a few at a house when I lived in the City and
They came and went like their cousins the fog
In one window and out the other
Like a one-sided conversation wafting in through the kitchen and
Right straight across the sitting room and
Out the front window and I don’t wanna say,
It’s hard to know the size of clouds ,
But yeah if you can all fit,
I’m down with that, and
Thanks for only bringing the happy ones, I’ve had both before”
He laughed and it looked like he leaned back
But he was all cloud no body and replied back to me
”OK, cloud! Sounds cool.
I’m returning the compliment because
You were nice enough to call me “man”
As a sign of respect and acceptance and I thank you”
“That’s cool man, you deserve better, but you’re welcome to
Swing by sometime with some friends”
“Awesome, I will, I gotta catch the next breeze outta here
its an express, can’t stand those locals stopping at every tree”
He eye-rolled as he finished talking and
I did that thing where you yell your goodbye
Even though the dream is stopping and
Even though the Cloud would never hear me,
I still yelled
“Later, cloud! Come back on some sunny day!”
But he was gone,
That express grabbed him and he went way on down the sky road.
2.26.22
s. flot
YWI
MFWA
BTC
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Citybus Reprise
Maybe it’s time to reprise the entire enterprise and
Reciprocate with new sizes or topical fineries
Sent to parade
Around the downtown’s sounds
Near the center where the heart beats
In a way that seems like it always has and
Always will
In a way that seems like
The confidence is deserved
Given the record of running around the track
So, when the question began festering
Under a found sound cluster of downtown bound
When the entire thing was flung
Heel over crown
While walking down the middle of the city bus
Without using any hands to hold on
To a callous balance
With the bus stalking the walking middle walker
Feigning a falling talker
But never holding on and never losing
The tentative and uncertain balance
Of a citybus
On a dancing street
5.19.22
sf
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Never Say Never
I never use the word never
I’m trying to stay aware of absolutes or
Assigning a definitive which implies
An inability to change
A potentially pliable situation
Certainly, it is a word I have used in the past
But I never will again!
Always begs the same attention
As we often employ it in opinions or engrained absolutes
I cannot say I will never use always again
But I will never use never that’s for certain!
If I ever do I suppose I’ll always notice if I ever never again
I will most likely make some internal vow, like I always do and
Always remember to never break it
Never break it for any reason!
Never convince myself
Never think…..
Maybe just this once
I know I’ll always feel this way
I know I’ll always never use never again
Never again
Never
Again
Never again, never again
sf
5.21.22
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Lemons Through My Melon
Lemons appear to be mostly yellow
With some small traces of green
Looking at the outside and not sights unseen
Beneath the skin hidden
Like kaleidoscopes fatten with a pattern
As the worm turns and the wormhole widens
Peripheral vision dimming and limited
We risk missing the surrounding actions
If we look away from the developing view
Straight in front of us
As the looking glass only shows what you might see
Not what remains in the realm of unknown
Via one sense or another
Vision or hearing may dominate the cognitive mainstage
As one sense or the other falls to the side or the back
Attention spans filling in the blanks and
The distractions are coming from every direction and
Possibly it feels from every action and
Resulting forces of momentum and velocity in the country
Under these huge oak trees leaves and above their roots
Very different than freeform on the paved streets and concreted sidewalks
This worm turned the whole entire hole
From constricting to open and
The silk web is conjuring its own fat pattern
Luring my eyes to the subject of this object
I am fixed on as my mind’s eye is seeing
But also imagining a creation
So transfixed on repairing the mention of retaining this retention,
I was determined with intention
To fix this specificity inside my brain
For collected recollection for another time
Another pouring out the mind’s bottle
Flushing the inspirations through my third eye
Clearing and cleaning the muse’s persistent push
Through my head, my mind, my filament and out into the unadorned world and
Please remember this is what is really normal
Lemons through my Melon I suppose
But nobody ever gives you lemons,
They seldom just appear
You must plant a seed and help them grow and
Help them get water and sun
They will if you have a vision
When you look through a looking glass or
A window or any sort of unformed or free-formed portal
As senses play inside your head’s playground
Grasping sights of bright lights and
Turning over sounds
Maybe sometime soon you might perhaps return to the ground or
Shoot a spur to the heavens
Finding your eddy inside a fat pattern of perfection
For you and another person
It’s hard to say sometimes and
Other times it’s hard to listen
But senses work when you need them
As long as you have the sense to heed them
Sam Flot 6.19.2022
For Wavy Gravy and the Hog Farm
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Cut the Predicate
Cut the predicate
Leave the button set to sunset
Generations of learned behaviors
Of mine and of yours
We can always enter into the future deriving
Contemplated and as-of-yet
Never arriving
Never combining nor collapsing
Never finding any knowledge at all from just trying
Circle around the things you found and
Walk away from the rest without making a sound
At the end of the short driveway turn left
Avoiding any salient questions
Turn right at the first frost
Opportunity will be responsible for cost and
Remember what we heard in the beginning
One out of two is disposable and
Recommended (!) in the quest for winning
But that finality wasn’t included in my totality
But blaring on with no fractured clarity
Factually broached and deductively totaled in debate
Drummed home in the sense of literal or what they call straight
No collapsing into a simple relapse now
After traveling through so much time
Just a simple chance to enjoy the pleasures
Of the earth’s curvature
Dropping beneath the horizon’s line
So horizontal it hurts
While the sky treats us to visual deliverance
Clouds and gradients clear enough to
Find my fog in a
Parking lot sunset
Exit and enter
After day drops below the line of the horizon
History will deliver its own evidence
11.6.2022 sf 12.4.2022 >Inside Voice< YWI – Treehouse
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Sometimes An Apple Falls Far From the Tree
Sometimes an apple falls far from the tree
Don’t ask me how but they arrive and pay the fee
and
Furthermore, in the big city the apples ride for free
Inside the periphery of totality
Subtracting or detracting from the old home tract,
Fitting a description, but not quite exact
and
The feral is not easy to see
Inside the peripheral
But the transition time is apparently in process
Prior to the prediction or the process, in fact
But after the tree was planted and
After the following succession of generations become allies with folly,
Deciding to complete the morphing process
Already moving forward at a pace of a crude
Philosopher weary of all the relayed delays
Upending the downcycle and the up cycle
Because the directions consider the up and the down
For the slang-less throng,
They’re almost always wrong
Always wrong
Doubtlessly secure inside fences
Dreaming in past tenses
With a trenchant for ancient penchants
Adorning the morning’s principle digression
With far more than this number could ever unravel
Downhill though the intersection
The road turns to gravel
The gravel decays and becomes a dry paste
Each time the rain stays away
But why do we hear from these and
Not the others?
Maybe it bothers the apple’s brothers
or
Maybe it bothers the tree.
Maybe it bothers the apple
After goin’ all out and about sowing his seed
flot
MFWA YWI 5.11.22
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Quill
As sure as one can be illuminating
Decisively trading foil for silver or
Promising a penchant to validate the instances
When a pendant becomes a treasured talisman
A shimmering and sustaining symbol
For the tool which the artist will use when they produce the art
In any given effort
If the artist motivates
If the muse activates
If the idea is identified with a body, face or shape
Not the kind that is distinct
But more the appearance of dedicated instinct
Pulling that intrinsic trick
The artist flips
Whatever it is that makes the piece unique
There is no one word to cover the qualities of intention and
Some say panache but you can call it
Whatever avoids or removes the cliché from the application
Whatever gives the artist the proper compunction
To elaborate with specific function
Integrating what is found in front of oneself
With creativity altering the perceived perception
All in the studio
Not at some reception
Art is made with intent and action
Specific to the artist responsible
For refracting the light energy
Through an object for subjective deference or determination
Left alone for the viewer’s personal understanding
Devoid of anything other than
The piece of art in the looking glass window of opportunity
As worlds run parallel
Offering us serendipity and sorrow
Like a feather is not the entire wing
This picture remains incomplete
Without representing the rest of the illusion
Promising silver for foil or value assigned
Where previously there was no appreciation for flight or flying,
For wing or wing formation
The associated surroundings found in time
Provided inspiration’s push and foresight
The paper with ink slowly fills
Be it heavy or feathery light
When and only if
The writer pushes a qwerty or a quill
Sam Flot
12.31.2022
TREEHOUSE!
