drumming everywhichall

Drumming? No, not interested.

But what if I told you I was actually making a poem?

But you just said you were drumming?!

Yes, for all I was worth, and singing along too.

Then how can you describe that as “making a poem”? In any case, you don’t “make a poem”, you write one.

Yes, yes, all very true, but only as far as things go.

Huh?

You write a poem when you’re playing with words, but sometimes you have to dig deeper into the code of things, the fabric of reality, and then words won’t do.

I don’t see why not.

No, but I do.

Ok, clever clogs, let’s see if you can…

Don’t say another word. Of course I can, and will.

What?

You and I both know what you were about to say, so consider it said.

But...

Sometimes it’s vital not to say what, for doing so you make things heavy and bind yourself.

You do?

Yes, because all language is a kind of spell.

Oh. I’m not sure I believe in spells.

No, I expect you don’t, and yet that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. It’s a short, convenient word. I could use another to avoid offending your rationalism, but frankly, we don’t have time.

No?

No – there’s a time/ speed limit. If we go at the speed of rational thought we’ll learn nothing and get precisely nowhere. So instead, we hold our nose, we dive into the swamp, we don’t say what we’re doing – for to do so we’d alert the AI, conscious system we’re operating in of our business and intentions – we merely invoke the spirit of poetry – we commence our dialogue with primal sound, rhythm, beat – we allow ourself to be the column, the axis around which things revolve, through which fresh code can flow, code which is not reliant on what seems to be down here in the thick of things – but flows directly from the all-that-is, the one-and-all, the quantum field – and is entered onto the ledger, registered, signed and sealed, by the very act of making poem. For poem, believe it or not, is fundamental – no matter how written over, manipulated or distorted this reality may have become, no matter what spells have been cast – poem restores the proper constitution, the natural state, period

Er… you make it sound like a legal submission.

Yup. It’s law.

Huh?

Law. Poem is law

Huh? No way… how can it be? I mean – where’s the sitting government, the jurisdiction, the judge, the… hell, I don’t know.

Poem takes precedence. It just happens to be fundamental – if you do it right.

And did you?

…[calming pause]…

Did you… do it right?

…you………………………………………………………bet………………………………………..i………………………………do

So – you changed the law? Which one in particular?

Oh – all of them.

All?!!!!! How can you change all of them?

Well, most of them – you see, most of them have been written based on fraud and deceit. All those are now invalidated.

But how? Who’s going to enforce your “law”.

How about the universe itself.

? Come on dude. The universe doesn’t care. It’s neutral. It’s just an observer – watch how we destroy ourselves, or the planet.

Nope.

No? You’ve figured out how to get it onside?

It’s much simpler than that?

How so?

Because, little beknown to you, or little beknown to most of you at any rate, there’s a kind of energy or gas that powers everything we’re doing – at the micro level of consciousness.

There is?

Yup. Every level has its own energy supply, otherwise things don’t happen.

Well?

Well my decree, my poem, removes all funding from anything whatsoever they were about which is not consistent with Poem.

Er…

And poem is fundamental law – natural law – karma rolled into one.

Oh. Plus the fact that it doesn’t rely on words – which means they can’t rewrite it.

But how do you know you got it right?

That’s the beauty of poem – it’s right if it’s right – if it resonates – if it reaches out to the whole, reconnecting each and every one in a way we cannot possibly comprehend rationally – unless we introduce a new science, a new terminology – which we will shortly start to do.

Oh.

So, happy days, dude. Let’s spread the word. Let’s make poem. Let’s assert our fundamental rights to be, to rule, to serve the great All, the One, the isness of be – quantumly – without reference to any priestly class who presumed to be our

intermediaries.

Oh.

And in the meantime – let’s enjoy the music, the magic, the much and feel and beat and vibe of shaking the walls, the ceiling, the floors of over-hyped, little understood, horribly manipulated 3D reality. Join me. I dance. I sing. I king code reality – kissing goodbye AIs, borgs – each and any system God that would presume to rule man, woman, child, you, me – and in so doing – I rediscover the beauty, the power of poem tree.

Huh?

For poem is like a tree, a web, a branching interlocking isness which permeates all – which I can tune into and become, in a sense, as long as I try not to it it.

To what?

To what it, or it it – to make it my thing, to make it do what I want – as opposed to enjoying what it can do naturally, in harmony with the all present dance, song, spiral, life force that we comprise. Feeling it – is knowing – it cannot be known any other way. But how can you feel infinity all around unless you are moving, swaying, flowing – willingly going into a deeper, fuller sense experience of all that is – drumming poem back into your life, back into the fabric of cracked, desiccated reality. And suddenly, the dead, dried piece of seaweed is moist, supple and alive – for we are always present in an ocean of life – just as soon as we choose to connect to the life force, and poem time back to verse, back to syncopated rhythms of everywhichall.