As a child I looked forward to my coming birthday
and the gifts I would receive
the attention and the new little boat
I had wanted
so I could float in joy
with them.

This morning I read poems of angels
of arm and heart scars
I thought of blood and its flow
not in a ****** mystery
but in the flow
of life and time
and how precious to me are both of these.

Its sundown, the day’s been reduced to a crack of lavender and fiery pinks along the Massif des Maures mountains. This evening we’re sipping cocktails at “Les Toits,” the Hôtel de Paris’ rooftop restaurant. The French would call this a lounge.

Les toits translates as ‘the roofs’ and its stunning view overlooks the provincial rooftops that ***** down the foothills to the gulf of Saint-Tropez and it’s world-famous beaches. The well lit boats are settling down and dropping anchor for the night as we complete our orders and get our second round of drinks.

This has been the best vacation. I think we’ve all reclaimed our calm after a tense freshman year. We’ve been at the beach for 10 days. Leong and Sunny are actually tan, Lisa and my hair are half a tone lighter and Bili’s black skin has taken on gorgeous, purple-ish highlights.

I’ve known Lisa now for ten months, but we share a deep connection that seems older. Lisa’s lovely, brazen, and naturally flashy, without trying. Unfortunately, though, Lisa draws men like a keig-light draws moths - whether she’s looking for them or not - I don’t envy her that. Young men, middle aged men, old men.

Lisa said it started when she was 13. She’d be in a store or restaurant with her mom or dad and a lady would introduce herself, “Hi, I’m with the Ford, or Elite, or IMG, or DNA modeling agency, has your daughter done any modeling?” And another business card would be wasted. Her mom nodded as she recalled this sordid past.

Attention just shifts to her, the party comes to her, she can’t seem to avoid it. About every 30 minutes some man comes over and introduces himself to us (to her). This man owns a local night club, would we (she) be his guest? (He’s looking at her like desert) This guy owns a yacht - “that one, there,” he points it out, in his Russian oligarch voice - he clicks a fob on his keychain and the lights blink. Oh, sure, join a strange foreign man on his yacht, what could go wrong?

There are 8 of us girls at the table with Charles, our escort and confidant. He’s a 50-ish, red headed ex-NYC-cop who just sits there quietly and sips his drink like James Bond. He seldom says anything. I lean in to him and say, “Maybe they think you're her ****?!” Leong coughs in her drink and Charles gives me the same, serious, “behave yourself” look I’ve gotten since I was 9.

you write like a sea
I see

gyring and free
stubbornly

flapping only
to be

easy
to see

your profanity
holy

in its naivety,
wholly

scanty,
heavy

with plenty,
empty

like sea,
pretty

for me
for me partially

for you only
hesitantly

for world boldly
bare to see

you write like a sea
lady

toiling sweetly
to monotony

and plea
howling all free

free
ah, lovely

like the slavery
of a sea

A gentle streaming waterfall
Flows to that silvery pool
Nestled down and away
From most curious eyes
Save for mine is course

In the dull evening hours
I would sit on the walkway
Narrow and overgrown
That led down into that basin
Where the water collected
And flowed to some underground spring

There would I see him
Sitting on the water's edge
A seemingly week build man
In a set of well worn robes
That bore no symbol
Or design I could recognize

I felt after many visits
That he knew of my presence
As if his awareness reverberated
Up from the water And bounced
Off the close rock walls to locate me
Without his need to look

Yet I never spoke to him
Or descended further
Down those precariously worn steps
To that silvery pool below
For I knew ever so vaguely

That the one I had seen there
At the edge of those waters
I should not ever meet

What will I watch
What movie, what show?
The museum, the cafe
To where shall I go?
All things I experienced
Whether old or new
Truly do the words
Of Solomon ring true
That under the sun
Is no new thing
Whether riches or fame
To laugh or to sing
Do not fret or worry
For what may be missed
Those that have it all
Often lack any bliss
Getting only ever
Makes you want more
Desire only ever
Made the heart sore
So enjoy what you have,
Who you love And where you are
If you can’t appreciate what is near
You’ll never get far

Did I never notice,
make note for future ferance re
sufferance, under the load of we,
the people. we,
the people who lived on land
rented from Mormons
who claimed the God who runs
Easter and Christmas gave it to them,
for being brave enough to take the land,

as had the valiant Evangelista in
sisting resistance to Hari Krishna- yeah

I was alive, when the times did change.
I was the bargaining chip that tipped the bet,

straw boss, that is one subliminally poetic
job title, given me, as anyone could see,
due to me, being so good with the spiritual
interface on a standard fifties American mind set,

absent, the reading done in college prep, by those
who run the world now,
boomers, big wave of new blood, with a few set
aside for trial runs,
some things we never tried on Turing, but Von Nueman
says the all
go rythms have been mediated,
forming a message that never
ever
may be altered,
but it is in code.
- not possible without faith to know
- the imagined unit of measure
- is prescience - possible
- original bias to plus,
- as we well recall a while ago, each
- matter was balanced in antimatter
Pfft.
What must one say one may
know, al as re al as ev er re ai ai ai, syllables
silly
ligare knot re
ligare gnosiadnozity re
legions in legirons marking time,

stamping cleated feet to the cadence,
double time,
ramming speed, boom

v; for verses victimized
Ken Pepiton at 12/23/2021 1:15 PM
v: for inimical
from Latin inimicus "an unfriend; an enemy".
from in- "not" + amicus "friend"
related to amare "to love" ah,
more
mimicable me, see me mirroring
the flow of snow,
in the pre-broken globe, shaken to delight, a bit
a
me who sees the swirl settle
knowing, after all, is when we know
knowing is
as imagined,
or it is not knowing, at all.

People who damage others with impunity will only stop when their actions ******* them.

Every star that dies becomes a moon
A vigil guardian of the night
A nearer yet more distant light
To watch over hours of rest
Once brilliant sun now elder guide
Inevitably to outlive below
Those that watch and those that grow
Beneath it's gentle rays
Guardian moon watch ore the night
Until that time when all things sleep
The moon doth reign and dreams do keep
Until all things pass away