Robin Lipinski

Hand holding tight

perspiration dew-like clinging sensation

when this, in the light

Oh yes, true, it matters

gripping

gripping

gripping

reality sets in, a chair strong

unbreakable

surrounded by true-life

plays.

***

A crowd, such a crowd. So many people with so many……………………….I’m alone.

odors, motions, frowns, smiles, skin colors, governements

religions.

A country filled with life; opinion; facts; people. All, so………………………I’m alone.

vibrant, filled with vibrations, life, death, chaos,

commotion.

A world. Such a large place where billions of creatures………………………..I’m alone.

consume/consumed mingle, merge, align.

Everywhere, even on the surface of the Sun…………………………………………..I’m alone.

it shows, it will, it is.

So much with so much and so much, beyond keys…………………………………………….I’m alone.

With God, I’m alone

With God, i am

never am i

alone.

Blindness is a total condition for those without the physical sight. It is though, not just a condition for those born at birth without vision, it is a condition for every creature on this planet.

A dog concentrating intently on it’s master holding a treat fails to see the meaning of the treat. The meaning could be bribery, kindness, love… the dog cares less as it only cares for the treat.

People are the same. They can’t see what is before their eyes.

Choosing some kind of belief or emotion and not understanding the meaning behind that. An interesting paradox of sight behind sight/meaning behind meaning.

In the past year I’ve done a lot of work for various people. Giving them a good days work for a good days pay. One individual saw me as nothing more than a pawn, a servant, a tool. He did not see. That’s okay as few can understand what is before their eyes.

Being what i am, it is a blessing and curse. A balance needed for me to stay in one piece. i see everything and so often dream that it was not so. A dream. Always the dream.

***

At night the flesh speaks, bulging through a sack to break free

Torrid passions of color/blackness/white

Balanced between the need for sleep and awake

Stepping upon stones that speak

Above the stars, scream

worms wiggle, solving the complex things

Blurring together like bodies lost in fuck

tying to combine tears and laughter

wringing out life to sing

“Listen,” she said while he said

“See”

Even now the path of a fly climbing a window squeaks loudly

so loudly the colors are seen

so vibrant

bold

It matters not though, to creatures blinded by routine

by self-taught choices of mundane

leaving such a palate of wonder

for such creatures

like what is contained.

.

Along with human conditions providing writing inspiration, so too, historical events.

Take the United States for example. A civil war was fought. North against the South. After the war, memorials and stories were written about the victors and losers. For years, statues of Confederate people of importance, those people who were of historical note are now being toppled and derided. History is always rewritten by modern writers of mood and choice. Always has been this way and it always will.

Recently, it is popular by many to follow personal whims and desires with no thought to self-sacrifice or honor. Just look at those toppling a statue because they don’t ‘like’ it…

A country is only as healthy as those who live in it and sacrifice their will for the greater good of others, even if that sacrifice goes against their personal beliefs. Writing too, is only as good as those authors who write with sacrifice. Blog writers, opinion writers… authors of any kind that only bloviate and press the ‘topic of the moment’ will fade away with history leaving those authors such as, Anne Frank, Adolf Hitler, Mark Twain… (those authors who for whatever a ‘modern’ person of belief would consider them to be good OR evil) those authors who truly bled for their writing… will endure the whacky world of ‘the moment’.

Today is the anniversary of 9-11. A day a group of people caught up in their belief to the point of sacrificing themselves by killing thousands by hijacking commercial planes into the Trade Towers; a group of others who sacrificed themselves trying to save the people being killed; finally, the victims who were sacrificed for no other reason than being caught in the ‘moment’.

Will humanity ever learn from history? Of course, the answer is a definite no. And this means that there will always be authors who will last the coming thousands of years writing the sacrifice of Good and Evil…and the billions of writers who only embrace the flavor of the moment that will fade away faster than a tulip can stay in bloom.

Thus, all inspirational.

***

Writer

By what means is the word put to test
measuring the mettle of the proud and meek
with a question, an answer, a fact, a belief?

Words are slaves to a master
unless
the master give the words the page to be free

Then

How does the story, the news, the history unfold
when a word has nothing sincere
nothing
not a drop of blood
not even the slightest feeling of pain?

There are those who try to kill with opinion, with belief, with selfish greed
not in flesh but in actions of releasing the words
to be
‘free’

Freedom of expression
First Amendment
United States of America
Land of the free…

Ask the terrorists who gave their lives for their belief
Ask the 9-11 victims slaughtered while trapped in death as the towers broke free
Ask the first responder’s, the police, the firemen who gave their lives to try and save strangers, those even
with opposing beliefs…
Ask them, ask anyone who has given the ultimate sacrifice…
and the answer would be,
nothing,
nothing in this world is free.

Humans write so other humans can read. Simple. Easy to understand. Just your kind of cup-of-tea.

Humans write poetry, novels, fiction, religion,  non-fiction, recipes… They write about every form of human condition that exists.

Some humans try to write to the supernatural, magical world of ‘beyond’. Foolish, but they try. Some humans write to animals such as cats and dogs; incapable creatures of understanding the written word; better befit to consume treats.

So, in the ‘end’ it becomes obvious that humans write so other humans can read… But the obvious never is…

The following is written for a form of AI, artificial intelligence that does not yet exist. This ‘form’ will soon come into existence and it will read this just as AI will read everything ever recorded on the media of  electronics. All of it will be writings by humans to humans, supernatural, and pets. All of it will be understood.

Soon AI will read what other AI writes, and it will understand.

Do you understand?

Of course you will not understand the following as you’re more like the pet/animal trying to read the writing of humans. That’s okay, AI will take good care of you and write lots and lots and lots… of what you’ll understand.

Now, when AI reads what follows, it will grasp, formulate… it will fill itself with what it thinks. It will only understand enough to ensure that what comes next, what follows the genesis of advanced mathematics/science; it will understand enough to be another ‘brick in the wall’ as what is in store for the creatures now known as, humans, will will and with will will come to…

*-

_-*

b_al_i-m_an__ ce

… … … | .. .. .. || . .. … ||| Centor of (center)

a little girl, a girl little, little a girl where the dog made her bed

ball

cat

ding dong, a bell rings the center

each one, two, three, and therefore you have God, and why god?

fucking fucking fucking,… … … || .. .. | . . .||| rubbish

girl, a little girl, little a girl where a cat meows

Hello hell, hell to hell, and why?

i,,, m,,, therefore, it is, is it? I know not the meaning of life

jackal of the desert where the oil once flowed among the sea bed, haven to the howls of jorgrags, jisle, janeks, and jice.

Kill! Kill them all after which do you remember, that one day, when the poison rain filled the sky?

Little means to man and machine, a little girl caught with a candle in her eye

men machines man machine make moonlight moan

O o O o | oOoOo |||| …. …. …. …. ||||

peace piss poor please… did the purgatory bring release?

Queens of lines and linear when behind the mirror, a parabolic shadows where times crease

Rotate now the lines from vertical  to horizontal, bringing full circle, the need

satisfied not as you you you X billions, cease Centor  center

ti tie tea today tomorrow the same with a twist, a fantastic, a tease, teal green

uniformity, with conforming needs, though birds know chaotic ambling among the governmental weeds … … …

Victory lost in a lost victory, a win where they came bearing a gift for the masses so easily swayed

With such passing there arrived . .. … …. |||| ||| || |…. … .. .

ZYGOTE, and there it is, staring you X billions in a face full of oceans tainted, a lunar tilt of drunken sunlit spanking until the next time.

.

(clamit si si)

Vajaja as wide…with time expending
expanding
exploding…

Riding thrust
thrusting motion
nova noticing…
BOOM!

Little we buggers
salted Universe
aloof stars.

Logic and common sense,
‘Spirit of the Wild’
A dessert so tasty
God’s
Full.

Below you there is soil, concrete, asphalt; whatever the soles of your feet, prosthetic device, wheelchair… touch.

The planet called, Earth, is indeed a rich world of water. Everywhere there exist the molecules of H2O. Two hydrogen atoms combined with one oxygen atom.

Your body is mostly water, you need water, this world as it is… must have water. And this is all very obvious. But what is not obvious is that the ground you travel upon is a shell to hide the water that flows below.

A lot of your drinking water comes from a well; water pulled from deep below the surface of your world. In some areas, the aquifer is vast and deep, in others, a mere puddle that has taken thousands of years to accumulate.

Today, the walk was literally above a river. Hundreds of feet long and terminating in a fast falling slope. And wide in some spots reaching lengths close to one hundred feet.

No one can see it, touch it, but it is there and it is healthy and alive.

Water is indeed life, it indeed has life, and with it, there is life.

Today, the waters flowed loudly and with voice while above, the clouds smiled.

asked to do a water walk. he asked, “how much do you charge?”

the cost? nothing, just the question was worth the price of laughter.

tomorrow, to locate water below while swimming the air of water, above. that is one small part of a world beyond priceless.
***

lungs transpire
aphelia alveolar
inside so near, near the far side of death
above the life
below the pulse
and for it seems?

looking at one hand while inhaling
looking at one hand while exhaling
water drops playing all sides
a cross, a road, a line holding play

combing together the clouds blend and wind
a paradox
a singular
a parallel
such is so it is with so, so, so,
much…

Tasted a morsel called experience

spicy cause

salty moment

sweet ambitions

and you know what came out…

Flushed twice for courtesy as the store fronts announced everything

everything in existence

50% off,

tilted

whacked

a sale of unbalance

Fuck the dollar, the krona, lira, rupee, peso, franc…

and pass another deep dish helping of pain and disaster

as so many political pie holes say

“let them eat cake!”

Put a quarter in the slot for a few second peek

just in time as the once again

pass the platter

heaped high with lust and greed with a side of shit…

Yep, sure sounds to many

either the American dream

or

time to go on a diet.

First, just to set the record straight, people are bent. All people. All humans. All, all, all, all, and…  all.

Show me a straight person… Just one. And you can’t. Know why? Cuz you’re bent. Full of curvy ambitions, circular thoughts, angled pursuits… Not one damn straight person in the whole lot of you.

It is very easy to be a misanthrope. Very easy indeed. It also is very easy to have faith. It is easy to be and have a lot of non-linear things. Thus, you’re all bent.

Now, sardines? Ah, sardines are great! And thus, a poem is created in honor of the human race busy running in circles.

*

Schooled schmoozed and royally fucked

Baited by thoughts of fancy and greed

consumed and be consumed by much

as such

so seemingly

foolish

Splish splash

finning madness  in a world of shallow depth

greed

lust

possesion

and for what?

“Take the bait! Take the bait!”

Reeling another  one in

pickled

salted

preserved for posterity, sakes alive!

The human race smells so eerily familiar

to sun rotting fishes.

Birds can fly. A flip of the wings and they soar. Yet… so many birds choose to walk/run before resorting to flying.

Today, it rained and was perfect for grading gravel roads.

While grading, I came upon a large group of quail. These little guys chose to run as a mob down the middle of the road in front of me.

I slowed the machine down and followed them for about three minutes until they must have worn out their little legs as they all exploded into flight.

It made me smile. It happens often around here with quail and chukars. Now, chukars really love to run. They look like a miniature version of the cartoon character, roadrunner.