Octamarine revolution

 If
    I had learned routines
Then
    Perhaps, probably even
Probably odd
But if
    I learned routines
Push (), pop ()
Then habit becomes low energy
My thoughts might wander
To pastures and artifice unknown
Else if
    I learned Zen
Then
        Each habit would be, probably
The next action's friend.

I have not learned routines
My day snakes through divergent tasks
Demanding of attention
If the glass is half full, fill it
As Zen demands
The full awareness of all processes
The scene within, without
These habits, monastic
Where did this coil first awaken
The mind to the idea of ethic and observance
These are lost conjectures in an evidential morass
I pin the tail some years before the last ice age
In Madras.

"I have not suffered in accurate iambics"

These modern forms, are dub, Libet's delay
Second guessing my pen and what aid
Is provided from without while I am mined within
What mind is this, not twin, but octuplets
Unduplicated with which I am related
All the voices have been taken for I have not
Recalibrated the auditory connectome within my cranium
And at this moment both Ukraine and Uranium
Are aimed to urge my natural search function
The only conclusion I can infer is that we have seen
The routines of colour revolution updated in Octamarine.