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

black skies stretch
in darkness, the clouds
dissolve into rain,
the night is lacquered
with varnish like
a wooden floor,
shiny and surreal -

it breathes of night
bird and the magnolia
light of the moon, quivers
and then is still, wraps us
in the mirrored waters of the stars.

the moon elevates
the night from darkness to
hypnotic light, bathes
the world in silver, flows
with our tears and our
softly spoken words,

transcends like lazarus
to a sky witnessed
through centuries,
loved and worn like
our favourite old clothes.

I don’t, don't speak human
when blue comes down to talk
in the clogged old crannies of the night
woman
with ornate skin
moves her arm
her wrist, her fingers
quick like the clicking of a tongue
quick glitter, gentle then gentler
and rippling, a water eye in blue

over hills and over muddles
see the crow fly

when time comes fluttering back to us
tell me again of the war
when mingles the sword with
flowering heart and the reeds
speak up, their
thin throats filled
with lore, and lure the scattered world here
here here
          here

tell me

tell me, on and on the
tingling of mud as it is
lifted, lifted, to man, to callous,
like sun-forged flesh and force,
to his child, and the parting
of two lips
parting! the lifting, the toiling of tendon in the
riot of soul

over the woods! over mountains
see the crow fly, feel her shadow
when throe laughs, tickles the muscle
and even past wakes up
and even the gaunt clutched spine
of a thin sallow voice
perks up keening

hear hear hear

the beating of the feat
the beating of the nerve
when chant them men, and sole
and leather, with rumble
the rumble of war
when slides sly down the sweat and dust
and galleries light up
with walls full of human
and museums cradle little stones
little bones and calls
tell me
tell me tell me
even a crow can sing sing
sing one awake

To ash and stolen
Our home among the stars
No retaliation
Even escape but a distant dream
Though by sheer grace
Did some survive
Scattering themselves far and wide
Among the ever twilight cosmos
One day I know they will return
They must!
For in them lies the spark
The last remaining hope
Of a humanity without a home

I miss you
I miss me
Like a furnace I was fed with coal and fuel
but I was quite …
Spitting out fire sparks every now and then
Hurting no one but myself
The heat pushed you away …
Pushed everyone away
Except for those who accidentally caught fire!
In an attempt to cool down I blew steam into my soul
Melting down every good memory …
I thought by burning them down I would have nothing to lose … no one to mistrust… no one to “mislove”…
I thought the calm ashes would finally bring me peace …
Now here I am standing -buried in the suffocating ashes- waiting for a phoenix to emerge …
I can see no phoenixes leaving this furnace …