Learning As We Go Along

the significant feature wanting understood
as well as such mystical concepts
are able to be understood,
such as all that Semen Springs
ever was, that all quite mystical
by any standard, concerns the worlds
that existed in closest proximity
to Semen Springs, and how they related
or traded or as it happened for several

hundred  Semen Springs centuries,
how they were able to exist so closely
juxtaposed for that long before
becoming aware of the other.
Rather, the others were aware
of their neighbors but somehow
Semen Springs thrived very richly
right under all their noses.
Likewise, Semen Springs

thrived very richly for several
hundred of their centuries
as how Semen Springs
measured a century
which was actually a tad
longer than the measurements
the other worlds used; thrived,
Semen Springs did, thrived
in the state of flowing flux,

volcanoes erupting
here and there and helping to shape
the plains and silken
the soil textures,
and the prehistoric
creatures that had already
roamed all the Semen Springs world
eventually heeded
the call of the curtains

– mystical curtains
controlled by the heavenly
bodies who always watched
over Semen Springs whether
populated by roaming
prehistoric creatures
or by the early immigrants
who appeared via mystical
suction cups that formed over the ages

which none could ever explain,
especially since those who entered
via the mystical
suction cups also passed through
a cosmic erasure
which allowed them to not proceed
feeling too hampered by memories
or where they’d come from because
they had plenty to do

to acclimate themselves
to the brand new world the mystical
suctions cups of Semen Springs
had chosen to suck them into.
Not that laborious
labors were a worry.
So many a Semen Springs
man who’d rise in a morning
and wave to the sun

that happened to be doing sun
duties that day, spent many a Semen
Springs hour after
settling into his daily porch
posture, marveling
about how so smoothly the world
of Semen Springs operated
without too many inhabitants
having to do too much.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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