apoisemgdsguiiutg

Schlomo Minz said "Schlo it down and then you will hear." You will not find this in any books. He was seven, and kept the motto for himself. Which is fine because it was his, and, somewhat shy and unwilling to make himself a person other people might consider egotistical he kept it close. But the book can be found in an attic. Why is it always the attic of no one's house but in the basement of no one's house but in the middle floor of something somewhere no it's lost because it died a Schlo death. But really he said it. I'll vouch for it. Duh. 

--------

All musical education is sexual education. All sexual education is musical education. There is nothing more sexual than playing an instrument except it isn't sex in the usual sense. I mean.  A violin for instance is more like  piece of furniture than anything though it does have a g string. And you can pluck it and we all don't know what the f hole means. I mean seriously. Look at the clarinet. You put it in your mouth. You play the reed until it finds a sound and wails. And the drum what is that but a pat a pat campaign to rap the sync of that sound? And an Orchestra is an orgasm building itself to beautiful proportions of grace. Since we all need orgasms, let's all buy some instruments for our children's sexual education and love them musically ourselves, the orchestra and the children. But of course we need to reimagine nothing other than beauty for all people.  

-----

So I was interested in the commentary by Hubler Ross about my not recycling. Who's Hubler Ross? My boss. A man of the cross. 

--------

Talent is not a thing that matters much. Follow-through is everything. Persistence is also everything, because in persistence persistence is love. Gravely. Then resurrectingly. Then Valiantly. Then variously. Then no one sees the thing. Then the thing is gone. Then it's bright again. Then the thing comes back. And that's fine, because we love persistently. 

Love 

Variance Fortlander is a place where all things are one. Where the place you want it to be is the place it is, and the place you want it to seem is what you really see, because what you see is the best and the best is the rest of the way of the year of the sheer joy of things the sheer joy of joy and the edge of joy is joy. 

-----

my India is getting its facts together already. I can tell.

-----------------------

Diaper Boy

Shakespeare said something to me and that was how

the hell did you get where you are because I tried 

to tell them  not to have split hairs in their wigs. 

Well, I say, Jaishay's the woman to consider as your source

 for wigs. What, he said, I don't even have a wig. 

Well that's fine, you just can come and be a beauty.

Not a beauty. Look at the universe I know. 

That's beautiful. Nevertheless you need a wig. 

God is not pleased, said the bard, but blue in the face.

 Just look at the human race. No ace of grace.

Yes, nevertheless you need a wig, I said. 

Will it must it have to be big?" he asked. Yes 

you just have to name your price. What's the price

got to do with it? Nothing. Accidental regu

lations require seaturtles wear baby wear. 

People used to wear rags for their diapers, 

I remember that for me. I remember 

wearing a soggy one. I went to the beach

and that was what it was. A beach with sand

 and sun and all of that but tack--ahh dahh daahhn

diaper dum dum dum my dad wanted 

to have me wear a diaper. to. the. beach.

even though I was eight. What is the price

of experience? is it bought for all that this man hath

Gallop gallop I love horses. Could we have more hor

ses, especially for necromancy? No I mean for 

democracy? No I mean for gelatin?

No I mean for being horses? No diapers but hooves

And all the turtles of the world will sing my god 

my god where for are thou my Romeo Pressure

Valiance is mine said the Lord of the scrum

So get out there and be a bum scrummer no go. 

---------------------------------------------

Variance         by ben johnson (not THE Ben Johnson but a different one who lived in 1782, and probably wrote this around that time. 

There is not a thing that I wish and knot

the verie thing I know that fills the scote

of the vibrancy of thy glorious face.

No human that lived has seen the glimpse

of thy gloaming, but the very lovely art

of thy face is what is what there is.

Come to me, my very love and be

What is not love but love of me

And hear the very gorgeous interest

that the very interest of God has blest.

Conjure the vest of not a thing that will

Be of the very sweet thought of thee

And hear the very beauty of thy face

Till the very hour of setting grace.

Faith

There are low interest fortunes and sweet

sweet clementines that flower and flow till

the work is done, and the well is dug

and the human is found to be well

Call me stupid, but what is faith?

It is one height of love. It is the fill of peace

It is the simple homeward harmonies 

and the complement of gracious being.

Call me intellect but is it not one of the best

of the omniscient wagons of red beautiful paint

shining in the western edge of the year and 

yard? and the noon time and variation 

of the clarity of the noon time?