To flip or not to flip

To flip or not to flip

tO flip a coin,
as if, to later decide
if to flip a coin.
Soon now, every decision—
is born from the hand of something other.
And..then…with even more coinheads to flip…..
And bottles to spin.

Until only just one
can’t ever be skipped… . ,,  ,, . . …
The one that is T/HERE—
what is—to be later decided.
Whether tis better to flip
that single first coin.
Or to just let it rest.
Always standing all over—that curvature border.
Just—a tiny bit over—a head.
(so who now be killin & chillin y’all…)
for those times…waiting&resting…almost now till forever—
in between every option.

Now, something has alsmo been flipped…
yet every decision was barely just missed…
until it stood on that edge…
to many things so much more,—
almost everything else…so untamed.
The only one thing… that is here left…
That could never simply be skipped.

 

Chaosmos

 

Chaos and order

Chaos is only as distant
as this single one moment (and no more than three).
That’s why each little chaos…collided…
is now.. the only one thing
that could ever bring out a sense
to all of this chaos.
And—see—my—friend—how—now
an atomic explosion so strangely—
might bloom into shape…
like DNA flowers (daisy chains) embracing all order…
and always ever more ties
and even more trees to that order.
Until each and every
little motion…
Can shake forth an order,
just as it shakes things to chaos.
For—Not even one, and not a thing,
shall ever fool that ancient chaos.
Not even—CHAOS—itself.
So just as one little… tiny spoonful of chaos…
will kick things in order…
And then….
almost at once…
give way to aging…
and an end to itself.
(Or even just—to hold—or to even let go—
this ever-expanding of strangeness
into an ever-still greater of orders.)
So real—like a hug—with a space for
always a little more of some disorder,
and yet hopelessly always…
a branching-out edge… for so many smaller-sized orders.