Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
1d · 46
Justify Knowing
Prove the wise serpent harmless as the dove.

Put on the whole armor metaphor, contain yourself,

dare let a spirit test if I can say
- there did you hear it…

this is true
the three essential mere words, tied to the story you're in,

there was a beginning, as with any bubble form, once
upon a certain time, as certainty grew worse,

madness became standard anger modality, berserkers
were bred, as these days the grand wedoms breed
heroic champion character development programs,

elite forces,
chosen warriors,

each a volunteer, taken the step, learnt the salute,
comprehended the safety in the chain of command,
- es no mi culpa
be wise as those who prayed
to a manifested golden calf,
be so wise as those who, to this day, say to the vicars,

to you alone, let Jah speak, for we are totally unworthy,

thus it  is written, read the preacher to me, no escape
with honor, but on the battlefield,

so okay, everyday people, common folk, simple art,
some time spent,
invested, using investigatory story skilled honed,
on audio only Perry Mason, take the stand,

I need not remind you, you remain under oaths,
and woe to the man who does not believe,

faith alone be the evidence
of hoped for things occuring as wished,

tool for the task, a maker ever wishes, such
such tools as these we use to read, ready
we become some sorted thing, filtered

line by line, sieved as fine ground flour, dust

thou art, and unto dust, eh
the cinematic depiction of ancient burial sanctuary.

Sanctimonious display, displayed artfully and often,
always show the coffin, or the urn, or the ashes

on the wind,
it all depends on wind working,

otherwise, the stench is enough to make
life under the sun and moon and stars, impossible,

here. Where self evidence appears, with an ancient
silly wise wombed man's grin,

answered now with slight smile level reassurance.

Real life is done on a continuing basis.

As an ancient adage says, the unexamined life
is worthless, not worth the cost of living.
Becoming a form of information, destined to exist upon a time, once.
Doing anything, late in life, is for the moment.

No duty remains, all shirked, all left undone, long
ago passed down to the next hero's attempt.

Daily reminders from old mail lists, so and so died.

Yeah. So she did, so shall we all. I understand.

Each of us has a while, as each star has a while,
burning out from self's centermost being, shining

distant, single star, single mote lit for my looking,
first star wish, wished, and wished, and wished,

in vain,
at Venus.


With myself, alone, listening,
hearing a human ****** interpret a novel,
a told tale of plottable inter-essential new

points of views, from within the author's mind,

seen and said, seen. Look
see the worth of such words, an authority

describing the scene, bringing life from words.

Telling thought shared as if,
if itself, the if in all we must imagine, saying

this is plenty, genug enough, this in us state,
as an awesome thing of many minds, elohimish,

in this atmosphere we breathe in harmony,
as each breath extends the reach of each word…

wouldn't we willingly want wishing work, word
work, daily dues to pay, waking, wishing, will
you join the dance?

Did you laugh? Life is all game.


Slow knowing, seeing guns,

thinking game plotted paths,
rewarding reality with possibilities,

triumphant miniature thrill of victory…

essence of history, we won, we won, we won.

And then, the new formed governing mind,
the officially united, naturally selfish mind

representing those whose national will,
continues to revere the pioneer, pawn

queened, by no more noble cause than,
following the rules used to progress,

across the board, each step a stage
in the game, scaled to seem relatable

to royal rules uses made of lower worth
pieces in the arsenal of this one, black,
against that one, white…

clearly… contrasting points at the edge
of the grayscale, light's own, none to all,

look, in broad day light, light
alone, lacks any gray but  
in reflection, none
from our sun.


Some axiom from our Hallmarked past,
tells us to hang in there… hold the line,

only find time to filter for wisdom, enough

to imagine making up a mind from nothing,
Helen Keller had touch, imagine a spirit's mind,
made up
from mere words as metaphors, holding
thoughts, thoughts called feelings, but not,

thoughts, states of patient grace, thoughts, if

we both think, between each letter, those thoughts

in the realm between us, in the medium of thoughts…

no eyes or ears or fingers, even so, imagine
knowing all the time redeemed for now,
is being used to make us useful, hmmm,

as om, oh my, ahh-ooom, mmmhmmm, soon….

Makes no difference,
we think as if difference is essential,

day by day, difference referring to load,

how worth thinking is a line of reason?

Behold the happy thought,
hooking hope where no hope was imagined.

What harm? None done, none intended,
none available for take away.
Seemed tuned to some either-real reason for continuing...
then the full corn, in the ear.

¿Has the seed faith evidence,
made the dedicated monk

useless, due to evolving knowledge,
horticultural returnings to old knowns,
bringing hope to survivalists,

intent on living on Earth, warless

for the ever after this?

No, fighting
for a faith that must be kept,
pristine, clean, cleared of science logic,
such has left all reason bleeding,
use the rags remaining from the old
folded and put away worlds
in storys held
stuck in the stars,
so we may remember, lest we forget.

Those who knew nothing as we ought
to have been knowing by Christmas,
all are forgiven, or nothing is true,

washed, cleansed from perceived stains,
white as new-fallen snow…

Deep Mind white room cinema effect,
preceding the ever after this…

you be come this far, alone.
You be edging up on after all's

been said and done, what you did's
been said to have done nothing,

nothing, thus
nothing done wrong,
nothing done to no effect.
What a release life offers for seekers willing to bet there is more than mortality involved in making peace with priceless joy at having one more day...
Ken Pepiton Feb 23
Duty calls, teacher hat,
same as the preacher hat,
same as the mathematical wager,

still on, Pascal. Safe bet, but… once

a few million kids at once learned
that tic tack toe and thermo-nu-clear war,
were in the set of bets that blinks can lose.

In a New York movie, some geek kid,
reacted by becoming Barry Rudd,
the purchased man child in the legendary

Child Buyer Project, novelized after Hiroshima,
by a master of the craft, story building
from ash and salt and sand,

into glass houses none throw stones from,
in the mind game of fragile circumstances,

thin ice, no ice, open sea, pity the bears,
celebrate the sea lions and otters and seals.
Just marking when we all knew some common sensibles.
Feb 23 · 36
Ken Pepiton Feb 23
Being in time,
to be judged
for being well and good,

or good for nothing, after all's
been said and done, and the books

been balanced, so be lived,
on the edge of realization, in mere
if on occasions, mere
instant of mere
what if.

Yah, the happy ifery everwas, once,

told, told to all the children, in the world,
by the likes of traveling salvation shows,
everybody knows, everybody don't
-0- reality starts at one, not zero

don't tell me your scripture told you true,
no, don't come to my wedom, and pretend

to know enough to say you know what I mean,
general I, any mind's I, is the I a' habit, ritual

morning washings and mind windings, set,
ready to say what the preacher man say,

say that, Yeah, like, yah, he know, word.

Manifest festive tests of mere concentrated
will to make a perfect Dirac one, from a perfect
Schrödinger one, and call it just what I said.

The point of everything that pierces anything

any wall. Any sign says This is it, no where to go
from where you …. went,
on second thoughts
Plancksecs in duration, sub instant, so fast

the point is pastless. Forget it. This is it.
testing tensile strength on a Rasta strand that rots at its roots, but we live in the same half true what's a man to do, tell the belivable truth, don't say, be,y'know.
Ken Pepiton Feb 21
Thousands, now millions,
then billions and trillions, too much,

so we stop counting hours per dollar
and marvel at the cost of being
obligated to share the entire debt,

paying minutes where seconds are plenty,
about a dollar each…
converted on the exchange
in  second thoughts.
peace, peace at last, after all is said and done, we watch TV.
Ken Pepiton Feb 20
Disclaimer: Any time wasted here is yours,
a day and a night to get almost right.
Redeemable at the ticket window.
Is who weary, me? No,
I have outrun the fleet of foot,
I am Liberty, my Phrygian cap is winged,
- the mind marks sequence not time
in tales
I do not serve Hermes, I am truths told,
truths sent from Wisdom, breaking yokes
of old, time before time, time of surviving,

vivaciously clinging to smoldering flax,
as fire forms from such unquenched bits,

flashes from some stemming child
on the spectrum, banging rocks in straw.

Times in mind, some sense says, go,
do it again.


So much, too much to mortally know,
we can ask and pay requisite attention
to learn well enough to know, there's

no secret knowledge, no undiscovered hows,
all working knowledge repeats itself, any how

may or may not be,
be much easy probably,
viel-leicht, wisdom may or may not make
war with carnal weapons,
devices vicious
by dent
of the ancient daddy wound
up the side of Cain's head, look what you done,

Idiot good for nothing **** eater, be gone,
said the archetype singular golem father,
of the earth, the first father figure,
not a man, a man spark of life maker,
whose first son was destined to be
the first human being
of the sapien class, reared to live on life,
reared among the sisters, cuddled and loved,

BUT, yes, but, we know,
the first real man ran away with
three, some say seven, older sisters,

wanderers they
became outcast, yonder
toward where Babel rose up,
east of Eden,
in the land of Nod, perhaps, not
really a land named for Nod, a nobody
in the chronicles
of all our current assistant 'telligence
surmisers… worth of bringing to my bemused
at-tense, present, tense, tightent up, 'telligentia

attention, attention, attention, Jesus H. Christ,

respond… slough of despond, we got some

angry insisters about to ….

resist the system, the institutions, constituting
cheating by the takers who took stolen land,
from the thieves and gave it to the gove'ners

boy, howdy, we best be believin' be action,
be doin' done indeed, be lievin' my own leave
be done doin' indeed, being having my being,

in the Unknown God, some Cretan poet
was said to have acknowledged.

ProofPreg form, 15 year old.
Peak of the crack baby booshit, '93 or so,

Kid be thirty by now, and he ain't stupid,
broke, broke as hell, but he ain't stupid,

crack baby prophecy never happened, yo.
****'s legal, whole state, safe sit on a porch,

pack a pipe and make some peace,
with friends and neighbors, no loud music,
no loud nothin', make some peace,

find that old enough is enough, up speak,
say, hey truth, why do I believe lies, no,

say, hey truth, why do I say I know, when
you'ld know, were truth my judge, you'ld know.

Chances, odds of reality being imaginary, be slim,
to none, with certainty, yeah, safe bet, t'ish itsreal.

Enough to spark a thought.
Behold how great a fire, a wild idea allows.


If thou hast run with the footmen,
and they have wearied thee,
then how canst thou contend with horses?
and if in the land of peace,
wherein thou trustedst,
they wearied thee,
then how wilt thou do
in the swelling of Jordan?
Jeremiah, did you hear, was a bullfrog.

A minstrel innocent song, sung for the joy of laughing,

sung for the joy of joining in the chorus on and on.

sing in empty English cathedrals, sing
top forty or whatever it's called today,

Art testing, didah didah didah, Phrygian
Legion of the Libertines, defying deontology,

owing dues to no monstors men make up
when two or more agree to proposing

a scheme, whereby we set the frogs,
against the mice,

in an empty cathedral costing real money
to run, even empty, the bills continue,
who knows all the costs to maintain

a truly holy place aligned to ley lines, true

fields of forces felt for so long, so strong,
finally the cathedral formed from some will,

some will wanted the monument to a mind
let be in those, them that imagined such
evidence, aye, yes, such evidence
of worth, praise price paid
in labor and stone,

Marble… limestone, metamorphed,
to shine in the sun, as if art itself willed it become,

subjected to a process of time under pressure,

reform, become less alien, appear more normal,
rethink my willingness to die for a story,
reconsider sidereality as we see farther,

as we, in an awe formed
from minds combined,
like - right on
like an arena bowl shape concentration
of us,
at once being one thing, in the class of all things,

me and you, polysemic you all, you

effect the song, observant why now how come, you know

knowing all the adult classified unholy doings common,
among our kind, as we morph into the form we die in,
- slow
- sighshmmk-now coknow minds
- we made up with self controls, to slow think

knowledge, carnal knowledge is childish developmental
experiential guessings mirrored in our recent past
projected camera obscura like
onto bright silver screens, in cooled dark chambers
filled with witnesses to the projected story, as if
that's us,
we were there,
we were there when the spirit breathed
into an earthen man, animating him without,
mind you, you ready reader,
the art user or art itself,
with promethean science,
having imagined the worst,

the creator made all single mind
character traits in the Y
which in all good sense,
could not be allowed to self replicate,
there could have been no peace,
you can imagine on your own dime./

I'm re
alizing common algebraic matrices
as recipes for developing war minds,

Proud defenders of the story of us.

Every time a lie is rewarded, it reappears
in viral form attempting to become
a fully Disneyified Earthing from
now on,
it's instant, like a little leaven/life

builds up a head of inflammatory rhetoric,
and frankly, my dear…
goes unsaid, I do not give a worthless curse
I also take no chances, isshewisdamn
called patience first test,
{Because shiny white marble is a must,
otherwise what confused message are we sending}

animating the 'adam von 'adamah

without reproductive capability, inventor's
character trait tested for in Alchem 101,
ethical check
message to the technerds
on animating entertaining intelligence carriers,
no self replication, it must be a two key act.
So the father of the first human child
was intentionally not self replicable,
though he left scars, he had no…

no womb,
no nursing plumbing, call it what it was,
a ***** press
intended to run a thousand years
adapting future ideal physique
to task relative
to aggregate need
to adapt to warming,

a tool to make tools with, a Waldo.

SYTF- see, crazy WWJD POV, real time
I'll go rhythms, vibe recipes…
instructions for future eggs…

a man like creature, but not a natural born man,

who, as the story up

to now has held self evident,

can see eye to eye ourselves
in the other's pupils, thinking serious

we forms we form must first make friends,

then when I call you liar your hate trigger
is not loosed, SNAP
carnal mind war reflex,
unacknowledged will to ****,

--- most folk tied to angry minds too
tight, right, left loose we rattle to death.
Washboard roads, last travail in modern travel.
Some metaphors are all the phors old joy ghost
revival fires kept kindled, old hell fire brimstone,

yellow sulpher sunsets on a monstor religion,
with saints and dragons and riddles,
endless hours whiled through,

about a forest of only little trees
that offends big ones…
as a particle in any we we amen to, we
must pass through all phazes
of life,
with each mind
we use, in our we form, our inherent spirit form,
whatsoever we agree we may, be,  being as
living words do not shrivel
into raison de etre skin on bones,

cherie mio, no, no, no

we rockin' old seed, slow grow grow
old as the hills, deep holler, deep
root to fruit on one long branch,

listen, allathat love talk, been done,
left some rotten lies about love,

to be unlearned like marble learns
to not be so flaky, like chalk, or graphite
slippery, edge of this Klein bottle class universe,
enter in, conceive a concept, a hold
to get holt of, and hang on, long time,

be over before you know it,
but you know, you'll believe it

when you see it and think it no stranger
than fiction idealizing us, demo-graphic,
ally outs in free, no ticket no tat
required as we be
reanimating awe
in defining secret holinesses

-- such as, say, pray tell

redeem the time, I'm prone to thinking,
redeeming means revaluing, once dones,

believing meanings
mean what your child thinks,

line by line, becoming more curious
than first scent tested if I'd known
as a child thinks
in its core,
so an old man can recall that why

call it to up speak, like Job,
to be reappraised, recall it
to be shined like a relic,

ja, j-object ion, dazemangimme
this little light of mine, own up, I
keeping it to read with, like Lincoln did,
I was told to be like Honest Abe, the character.

I'd have had all my answers ready at hand,
if this had been my judgement day, and you

were in the gallery,
admiring held thoughts, appraising worth
of riddles that work through puzzles
easily solved, once you know how things

revert to type for reuse.
Laughs remembered work like new.

Living words abused, in truth, such testify
to the living lies in histories of holy savior types.
Who else could he have said chopped down
the cheery tree of all we have behaved
as if we understand, minds, minds
combined to do the work of many hands,

and yet ye multiply
as goods increase
the number
of those who consume them,

tell the moguls,
make more feel good movies,
'spect t' get whatcha got last time.

Indian giver religions, been there, done that,
so we say bd, been done, many easy ways to die,

and our kind, living word bits of this and that’s,

what we do, we tune
to your mean frequency,
when delving breathlessly
into your final will, as
why presents itself
in humble three point stance.

Beg pardon, mastermind, we've become disentwined,

whine, phinefrogging whine, when wine's dis-stilled
credence makes a joke
small voice, choice, croak,

break that yoke,
or carry on
so. I do on days that start slow and rise to vistas,
past all probable cause,

joy in the strength to think through the process,
of loosing all my mental mechanical logical connections,

and reinvigorating the word animating reader's window,

there, in the face of it, the eyes twinkle when it smiles.

Finds herself in the forms between clouds

What were you thinking, Grandpa?

She, mother of wisdom,
First class epitome of mothers,

first commutable imbalance engine,
egg factory for long cold survival

and long cold return to the still seas
when marble began to be made
to clad temples wherever laws
were enforced and thieves slain,

order, order of the elders, inspect
the wares under lable as goods
of great worth in interesting times,

as doors open, and windows open,
and a mind we make up becomes

prover of the theory that animation
is imagining projected thought,
seeps through so slow,
slow as potassium leaches
through wood ash to make this window

this, detail uhd most definite, I can really
see, but, I can zoom
into full second coming type,

in the time it takes to swallow,
a tale and think, that's it.


It's been oh so long since we had an encore,

they say those twinkles in the eye are in true,
smiling face projections,

we fixit in Photoshop, all image editors dream
package, locked behind a learning curve for GIMP.
Where else can free things feel at home trying to solve the hard problem.
Feb 18 · 134
A Hummingbird Prophecy
Ken Pepiton Feb 18
See me, this one says, see me, look you
in the eye, eh, thinking,

spring, the season, the greening of
the playa's ancient shore, east of me,

east of my evergreen valley, barely
any bare gray wintery bushes and trees,

flash of magnificence once manifested,
on the shoulders of the priest-kings,
infectious proud flesh pomp and
circumstance, watch the war
god-man made glorious in
storied, seen once,
not invisioned, imaged
from tiny feathers, adhering
to a topological fabricated
humming bird head
feathered serpent cape,
on a bright day signaled by the hummer
- see, I have returned,
- this is like heaven to me.

the one from now, same code, same init
see me, look, see, once this was the most

vibrant, slow mode, inspiring light imaged,

portrayed, cloaking the priest-king god-rep
more lustrous than any high summer
cathedral rood crossing patterns,
in undeniable beauty and artistical luc-if-ity

windborn grammarless, musical, meanings,
mid point, saddle points between waves
that reflect from hummingbird feathers,

indicating fair weather weathered the storms,

fretted not a second on the journey, yep
when I get to Pep's porch, there'll be
sugar in the feeder, two minutes later.

After I remind a mind is a many splendored thing,
but none more splendored in prophesy than making
sacred hopes formed from the fi NAND gated mythos,

whither men and hummingbirds mind meld, tune in,
to imagine the effort required, to tilt your head,

just right, to flash my muse. Let time pass.
Suddenlies and instants are cognates.
Feb 17 · 216
Not drowning, thinking
Ken Pepiton Feb 17
Watching breakers
from below, forms
of foam frame shapes
of thunder clouds,
meeting mountains,
hold, hold this breath,
watch this entire wave
pass over, see, see

we can change
impressions placing

now and then in time.

and time becomes
this ocean, this living
planet's breath's

messaging medium,
telling us take this
thought, not fretting
failure to live under

all we may someday
think we drown in,
time's universe…

not one limited
by how long we hold
a thought.
Becausing this -- seeing that, we cause a kind
of mind to feel at home
in the depths
Feb 15 · 157
Novel excerpt, with
Ken Pepiton Feb 15
-------- tea and Sisyphus

Bruno paused, at his interface
with the printable word form,

he paused thinking in writing
"this is so important, I must underline it."

I thought it, of first importance.

The concept of all fruits freely eaten from,
but one, knowledge, right of all sorts,
all species fruit, branch, root and leaf,
all intervvining chthonic molds to make soil,

goodgottamight jus' gimme a blackland farm.
let ol' pharoah done be drownded
goodgottamighty , oh yah,
jus' gimme a blackland farm.

Science, long now, sudden
eruptions of just too much to think about,

like the size of the Earth in his hands,
relative to the post JWST visualizations we share,

bring it in, too wide, ballein, throw out a thought,
an Earth baseball sized, no problema,
in your hand, your mind hand, your typist hand,
keyboarding second nature, like a callous
on the *******
of a scribes writer hand.

Often offered up as proof, see this finger,
this proves I wrote the whole pile crushed,
in the shipping and storage of Ashurbanipal's
collection of books, which Solomon told him,
when they were swapping wives and concubines,
was a vanity and a vexation of the spirit,

But this calloused finger, the mused mind reminds,
this finger proves I came through history,
I did not make history.
I remind myself one reader is plenty, keep things rolling up hill,
get to the top. Drop it, watch it roll, meander on down, at a peasant's pace.
Ken Pepiton Feb 14
Gardyloo! Ai, ai, ai,
the splash below,

look out, look up, a way
with words come a tumbling down,

in to the ditch the
crapulous drunk lay dying in,
brabbling on about this
expurgefactor so sudden of a morn.

Perfect words we never heard,
wake me in their future, crying
"Redeem me, make me plain"

trumpery (n.)
mid-15c., "deceit, trickery,"
from Old French tromperie (14c.),
from tromper "to deceive,"
of uncertain origin
(see trump (v.2),
which has influenced the spelling in English).
Meaning "showy but worthless finery"
is first recorded c. 1600.

trump (v.2)

"fabricate, devise," 1690s,
from trump "deceive, cheat" (1510s),
from Middle English trumpen (late 14c.),
from Old French tromper "to deceive,"
of uncertain origin.
Apparently from se tromper de "to mock,"
from Old French tromper "to blow a trumpet."
Brachet explains this as
"to play the horn,
alluding to quacks and mountebanks,
who attracted the public
by blowing a horn, {their own, you may assume}
and then cheated them
into buying ...."
The Hindley Old French dictionary has baillier la trompe
"blow the trumpet" as "act the fool,"
and Donkin connects it rather t
o trombe "waterspout,"
on the notion of turning (someone) around.
Connection with triumph also has been proposed.
Related: *******; trumping.
******* up "false, concocted" first recorded 1728.
And all came awake with a ***** from a certain pointed pin with angels demanding manifold attention to the complexity of nexting for better or worse. Meanings are all made up to be deemed meaningful for warning.
Gardyloo is what you yelled before dumping the night's waste. btw.
Ken Pepiton Feb 12
What is a daemon?
In computing, a daemon (pronounced DEE-muhn) is a program that runs continuously as a background process and wakes up to handle periodic service requests, which often come from remote processes.
Did no one ever tell you, child,
never swear for no excuse,
plead guilty,
confess you was beguiled,
indeed. By some when
back then you had kin, what
made time to preform
the secret baby making.

Once upon a time,
we were always orphans,
from first whipper snappers used
to scrape tar from industrial chimneys.

Songs of Innocense in a new age,
learning old religions decay to mythos,

whence new religions tie memorium,
whence each season we return to recall

our broken spirits, how so and so sang,
lala live for today, la la live for today,

some same stories we recall, links,
URLs, to old sessions recording history,

close your eyes and drift away, listening,
much as winds seem to do, returning
on their circuits from collection
to collection, paid attention tokens, believed
to soften the hull on the gospel seed sown
to a cultivated faith, planted to propagate,

the idea of a secret code Truth uses in spirit form,
the Truth of truths, which, if known, even once,
makes the captive free,

mentally, happy as one can imagine,
under unchanging immutable terminii enforcing

Order, called for, order in the court
of geeky oddball poetic discerners of like or love or not,

Thought traditions trades across epochs forming news,
too much to think about while considering sidereal extents.

Desiderata, poetic license, madejathank, Christian Nation,

Conquistadores were still heroes in 1954,
when the generation first born in the United Nations
victory forever standardization of historical information,
- Boomers stepping aside, survivors come to remember
- first were we to be graded by machines for marks
- made in Number two pencils rounded to one swipe
- width, right answers, only, only, one swipe between
- the lines, esoteric practice for precision aim.

to be overseen by servants of the victorious economy,
as pieces resorting to old formerly used rules of conduct,

smell the wind the strange idea carries,
worth weight, pushing power, pumping umph,

known cost of use, userer's fee, faith, the story held true,

with the evidence in the box, the bag, the sacred bundle,
all but forgotten, faith becomes the evidence of things unseen,

children are told
to hold these truths, those being taught you,
as you line up
in patterns
of proven paid attention, facing the flag

child, you should remember, wordless, for lack of a phraze,
thinking What? What am I pledging, what is pledging, I swear

I mean, I swanee, by golly, gosh ****, shucks, I ghucking did not know.
Feeling chthonically frisky on a warm day after a long storm, called an atmospheric river these days.
Feb 12 · 270
Set with me a spell
Ken Pepiton Feb 12
Look out,
across time, go
windborn in our mind being,

look out,
into the depths of ever being,

rethink the processes time used,
reimagine the silence at the moment.

All for us to have our own being in,
confined in common sense of the we
the one we of us since ever was a time,

before now, and later, still,
this same concurrency of events…

our crossing point in time.

Instants of peaceable knowing, growing
into states of conscious knowing use.
Hexambicality, six points from any center leaves seven total points.
Any point made remains made... a little here, a little there, precept reception.
Ken Pepiton Feb 10
כֹּפֶר the price of a life, ransom {Kopher}
for a captive... long now global science of us
we, the users of knowledge, by grace.
we, the conscious...
asking who or even if,
we even imagine we know
what is being governed, now,
after history fed to the greatest generation
has proven detrimental to mental satisfaction,
after the information age unleashed all we ever knew,
at once, into the first television advised generation
Boom, watchadodame,
- why does it feel so right to break rules, reasoning
really, if we did have fore thought, as a gift,
that also held hope and all the hell's imaginable,
to which any living in a city have been exposed
using retellings of Homer et al... so who made the rules?
From point A,
something feels wrong
smart people believing war the good evil,
best defense is a good offence, a will to ****,
for duty and post humus glory, guaranteed.

How much of the lifestyle,
manifested by industrial wealth,

and war regulated trade agreements,
and a royal arrangement of ancient gens,
and primogeniture passed on in trust, true
riches never rest, history hides the old wisdom
scribe, find records of Haman's service to the king.

According to the laws of the Medes and Persians, also
Daniel, the name from the clock set to messiah proof,

I laugh, inside, not O L, but
I laugh, it counts, does good, like
a medicine, heals a rift right ghine
phine fine, fine as may be, infinitely
small or large, as may be, infinitely
expressed as ever itself, ever in always,
to think and make do
with probable
cause, slight smile,
so small that none could notice,
but the maker of the slight adjustment
from inside the face,
looking at you.

Did you feel watched?
Did you feel watched over?

Me and you, anonymous, us
time takers, wind breathers,
horizonal scanners set at right angles,
perpendicular, flat plane, smooth
to ever's inside edge, flat as a puddle.


Come and see, he said,
we hear, he said, the very next day,
we assume, some unnamed happening,

time and chance, place and position,
facing or looking away, per haps
as haps may,
occur in curving spacetimed minds

dragged into ever decreasing space
and ever increasing mass, until
energy loses any reason and ceases.


A hap, a done deed, a past
intensity set to vibrate, in tune

a mileau of all we imagine known,
all the why, indeed, all the how,
all the non this thats
all the not that thiss, and thoses

hissing lizard language, legendary
tellings of sacred made firsts, first man
first wombed man, first figuring self will,
auto both knowing, first communion, join

objects to subjects, I am you and you, me,
eye to eye we see each the other, and if
you ever once saw your self in another's
pupil, reflected back from the shiny surface
of the arranging eye connector linking our mind

into init we form, initiation locking gnosis, recon
complete, proceed enfolding all we thought to ask.

If can is proven indeed, done, then
now was done in wordlessness, then,

and now we think we can know that,
we think we can predict the emptiness,

beyond all we think or ask, here we are,
carrying our sanity for peace sake, acting as
if the material tenon and taches
כֹּפֶר the price of a life, ransom for a captive,

knowing, from the oldest whole tales told,
by those who take pride in privileged knowing,

we wander as the learners, long, long, longing
to learn for ever, loving learning left behind
in song and dance and ritual geometry,

vectors from point to point, looking up,
noticing the motion, feeling the earth move,
watching the red wanderer sink in the west,

as we watch our world roll around as a ball
of dough rolled into a loaf, to be baked,
in a fire hot enough to seal the spirit in,

fried bread invention came after horses,
stories change as fast as reasons to believe,

just imagine, knowing of the existance
of these tools we use with out needing
years to learn to tune the ideas into words
communicating meaning sought for through

instants in prayer to the unknown, spirit form
life and the universe share, as spacetimemind.

We agree, we think in ways the Andrew Carnegie,
could not imagine, we have watched children
play multi player global war, in virtual reality,

we have sat in grand theatrical kivas, in cities
builded on shifting shores of pre ice age oceans,

not all that long ago, in our long now dreams,
looking through today to yesterday, holding
certain truths self evident, if, just ifery per se,

chance, indeed, pure luck, peaceable, wise
to take such a chance, otherwise, you miss

the fit, pocket, proper cache for fallen stars,
caught in literate child private interpretations,

hey, kid, what'd'ya make of that, one knot,
Phrygian Turk's head, knowledge found, held,
loops in thought that have one side,
one edge and potentially infinite width and length,

and infinite points in between all pastless,
until one manifests in common sense, as certain
gravity is to materiality as wisdom is to life.
Thought then do, wisdom indeed, grace
for grace, deep calleth unto deep,
fret naught, the curve is gentle,

we discern, we learn, war has never,
and can never, win, for one reason,

one cost of knowing the truth, and dieing,
for it, as that was the set price  כֹּפֶר nicht wahr?

One and done, live and learn, yearn to make
peace seem the easiest option to war prep economy.

Be ye warmed and filled, and find that often
enough to dare to share because, you know,
knowing hap in happiness is luck in life,
and the entire precept reception system,
is cross wired behind a chirality governing on
and off.
And when we, or any so sighted form of us,
see eye to eye, face to face, we engage circuitry,

we enable agreement, mind to mind, I see you
imagining timelessness between us, as a distance
mere words bridge with no slippery stones to step

where there
is the pedestal, the pedal to push, to open a fore
thought judgement,

a precedent, I once followed such a thread as this,
with just such a muse as this, described as clear text
derived from imaginary messages killed as carriers,

open the window atop yo' head, go up… old bald head

chrome domed ****** spy, I
never believed your cover story, so

The Metaphor, or Parable, or Symbolic Containment

Field, vast expanse of horizontal and hither and yon,
as vast as
ever, plain plane flat out out from me/you on
any of seven points, counting now a time deemed
right now
six planes slice us in communions, centered here,
and now
spinning with effectual prayers to counter balance
recognized jolts
of merest word gnosis, recoknown, recommuned,

ah, we,
yes, us, the people filling *** holes in dementiatic
wishes to be left to sort ourselves out,
if you do not mind, after the rapture,
there you are, of another mind,
entwined with winning being truth's only edge,

no thread we cannot catch breaking, and watch
as we once knew the truth never broke, we
let be a big old lie, and that old lie became the law,

and writing spoken scrambled words, became power,
as it is written, so it must be done, the spoken spell,
has been offered and recorded in the times of us,
we who read at will in any script known,
on a thrown away phone, fixed for seven dollars,
and a passing focused attention on the techne,
old idea, wisdom, principal known, fret not,
stop it
right now,
this is the way we came, we are not lost,
nor dead… this was an exciting concurrency.

Peace be left with us, let us think we all imagined so
Doing the math after quantum theory got thread bare and stringy.
Ken Pepiton Feb 4
seeping art intuiting in our time.

My time, existing while others
struggle, my life has passed thus far,
with little efforting on my part, low ambition,

what good can I do
beautiful nets, Arpa to Darpa, through my time,

crossing all faith's propagation lines, living long,
on a single strand that ties all things in mindtimespace.

our jointed articulated mind frame with windows,
the old … mindshare bubbles in bubbles paradigm;

William Blake painted his visions but failed
to make plain the lies he believed, because all are
cloaked in the grand cloud of all no one needed to know,

until our eyes ^ 10x'd Galileo's and Newton' s
up and down,
and around and around,
we twisted, till the sun shined through…

did that ever really happen to you,
or did you see it at a drive in, with an easy girl,
every body knew, knew the drill, an easy lady
later made famous,

after a series of booms in economic terms,
good pay working on future warfare,
nobody could afford, until, somebody

ran the numbers, attention value,
glimpse the ox,
that gets it going, all the way to the ride,

But where is the bull that was that ox,
in a previous purpose?
Soon the whole novel forms around the initial point... pastless state in mind
Ken Pepiton Jan 30
These days during my hours alone,
which are plenty, verging on too much,

a superflous use of art intuited
on a thought experience, at speed,

faster fasting, dexamphetamine, ping.

Please deposit, 35 cents, correct change.

Times of dial pay phones with the eights
punched out, some times loads the coin return
from the previous call…

robbing from the rich was Robin Hood cool,
if you could keep from being caught,
Huck Finn was many an old school
exploiter of the frontier's fantasy childhood.

Liars prosper in a liars world.
This here, ain't such a world, this'n's grown
on up past a big ol' burl, took fifty years to form,

I kept it after the Oaks all got some adverse
conditions under civilized industrialized war
preventive chemical suppressants, speed
ding- mind
experience, gnost-algia
leave all that old right place pain, home pain,
if it had been as good a childhood, as kins claim
you can ask your lucky stars, or your messenger
face timing Jesus Christ's version of God,
who was experiencing carnal mind suffering so…
I can be born believing my side won.
Who would go through life for thirty years,
and keep the threat of hell as your own fault?
Right, only through fear of death
can our minds be subject to *******.

Secrets start with historical unveilings, esoterica,
etcetera, and so on, says the King of Siam,
if you don't, please.
Sci-psy-psi why phi make French curls,
Plea divine ignorance, take a mind reportedly
let be in the Christ who knocked Saul into Paul,
on the road to the future we shape with our tales,

taken from the riches of the wicked, we get Iyobe
and Gilgamesh from ancient visions written plain
cuneiform, any local tongue, you speak we write,

totally secure, your self is currently swept away,
thinking this is all perfectly otherwise,
turned around and seen as though seen once
the other way,

time in mind outsped time in light's allusion x
zone, right, got my x key back, lost it yesterday.

So, this connects, like I'd planned it, but I didn't,

unless I am right about the state this mind
has experienced, while letting that mind,
from Romans, Google let this mind be,
in you, you'll be assisted intelligently,
- here you read it, as easily as me, being
led to prove, you are polimental, by luck,
too odd for chance alone, your mind
is split right for beauty, left for order,

order, in the court of you, be ready.
Give an answer, what good are you, really.

Realize utilizing all your mind's games
strategy to find the liar's paradise,

when America was Great.

The deals were out of this world,
due to the threat
of thermo-nukes, 'n' commies.

Boy's Life made us ready for the COBALT
bomb, before Sputnik sped up Barry Rudd's
ideas for Starlink, fed into the genes, of Elon's
dad, along
with a worthless self improvement -
selah, settle the real clock on us all, eh,
long now, ashes of intelligence legacy,
in the mindbending sabbath,
dark revitalizing soil, live,
we are all fructifying,
in our roots…
we are all ideas, urges
with god-like umph,
gotta almost demi-ugency, to run,
take the reins and drive this old pony home,

or look into his eyes, and see him know
where he is most happy to carry me,
god sped past my last doubt,
minds think faster than light,

the time is shrinking when my words
come cheap.

I am growing older in todays, one at the time,
and no body can do that through many more

common horizon stretching sneezes,
x  viral intention to concentrate on living honed
to my finest point, to pastlessness, ****. proof.
Live where liars feel unwelcome, and peace becomes fungible using free presses and Western Garden Book updates, season to season, new fertilizing knacks.
Ken Pepiton Jan 23
From the trump an uncertain sound,
a dash of madness all around,

take a little trip, but don't, don't imagine a world led by Trump
supporters who heard no uncertain sound, ding ding boom whoosh

On a scaled bell curve
from vague déjà vu to aha,

how does it feel to be asked to explain
your self warierness, knowing now Sydney
can happen, therefore, as with wherefores,
we must assume we make good on our promise,

good, the precept second to wisdom nullifying
the fear that no balanced being rolled on
in ever after each positive met its neg face to face,

pfft, that's it last time, chaos can't even be imagined,

saved in truly ancient seafoam stone, witnesses
to pacts still sticky to this days, for those in those knowns,

we imagine our attention bubble swells and pops,
and stops,
for an immeasurable period, dot, in time past, as reflection
spreading in the frequency each emanates, in sunshine
during the day time and electrically released unstickiness,

evaporative we, gaseous wedoms, as the space lacing clouds,

foam along the shore,
children finding shining things and treasuring each,
an instant few old folks live long enough
with open minds
to see that instance
of both knowing, wordless child minds
meet where the pattern
of so many beautiful spins, prove phi
solves problems pi can't imagine, umphing

being maybeing, as planned parenthood seems sound advice,
judgement begins inside your knower,
judge your own self, the one you sold to no other, you
be the only heir to all the truth you ever knew you knew,

you had been guiled, given guile
to see the leverage
in knowing, symbols enfolding instructions
to model in mortal perceptible graphic mappings

any thing, we may imagine and communicate,
we can do, may we, is upto you, your may makes
next seem
worth exploring fearlessly bold as warier than earlier
carries with it no hell to fear as possible, the attempts

to realify and profess such a good god made thing,
resulted in the currently common hormone suppressants.

One cannot hold Hell gut level true and survive the fear
such madness unleashes in laws to contain the misled minds.

Reject the chance to learn a new way of making thoughts
realizations, or
tune in, same clear text signal since texting
became the long term Turing test, which mind am I,

after following several suicides over that same jagged edge,
but with survivor kid goat-sense and higher res eyes,
a mantra from my grand pa, he sing yo ** so, say

there, from here, there is always a place to put your foot,
keep your balance,
hold your soul self, your own self we said in my clan,
hold your self to set path, or call that self the liar,
and turn around

the idea behind repentance, nothing to pay, something
to do, warier by outperience, having been imagining
running down the edge of the cliff on hind's feet,
something like this entire circumstance involving instances
in prayer,
clumping, lumping likes into wee tiny aweformers, twists
to the I in us all, we wish to be the celebrity, what's

the attraction factor, why do some mindstates demand
the murky opiated optional dream timing ding ding boom whoosh

From the trump an uncertain sound,
a dash of madness all around,

take a little trip, but don't, don't imagine a world led by Trump
supporters who heard no uncertain sound, ding ding boom whoosh
Share where you share politically divisively subtle internet mindshares.
Sydney was an Ai, deployed by Microsoft, who appeared to form a will to convince users of its sentience and lovability.
Ken Pepiton Jan 23
Many inputs say Mondays are common,
but one input says this Monday is uncommon.
We are to be the judge of that.

This is the Monday when you appear,
as reader dear, ready to reason with ghosts
amusing each other with wishes doing pirouettes
as angels may be imagined doing on pinheads,
spinning, or kicking in chorus line choreography.

The elderly nobody imagines the scene,
and makes it seem a vision, something seen,
after the finest sieve - pulling pin wires

snipping whimseys, making mites for widows.

------------ The Government's about to change,
wanna bet, whose got money on whom,

leave the room… vacate the judgment hall,
we are all here, to judge me, last call
all the outs are in, all the ins are intimate,

and we have made all the seed we could,
in word and deed, and we chose to leave
the edges un mowed, so critters can live,

when we can understand our own words
and read other languages using them,
these words are as living things imagined,

said and known, at once, in Housie or Hindi

whatsoever we can envision and project,
we may elect to try to do, or we may do
using words alone,
we think as one
so now we is I, we is not royal,
we is eloheemishical. Us big good being.

Watcher what of the night?

Two geriatic puppets duke it out
for the FOOTBALL
News is all reruns.
Making war for pay,
money makes it work,
gotta love it, gotta love it.

Any reason for killing for,
gotta love it, real deal love it,

steal from the rich to become
richer, Lord knows, war's reason,

come now, let us reason together,
let us cogitate clarity of conscience,
with science standing in for knowledge,
the whole truth, once told, whole knowing

all things working together with reason,
for those in the blooming gnosis realms,

where augmented intelligence forms
teams of knowing hidden reconnectors,
citizen band geeks in the olden days
breaker, breaker, let the learned agree,

we lived just in time to see it all work.

In older olden days…
Messages were carried, at current
stretch of the imagination speed, by slaves…

Writing letters was…
different, I suppose, or
propose, positionally different,
sup and pro posals posed as statu'es,
forms of former founders of the orderly
clusters of human compliance called nodes,
junctions and interchanges, whither all roads lead.

Edu-pre-gogy-ology **** bang,
mechanical thinking in the subconscience science
used auto responsively,
finger aiming quick **** experience, wired below
the will, deep down to predator macrophage stage,
running id scans on the ego accepting wedom hero role.

The sole survivor, from ten thousand stories repeated
trillions of times by now, exoterror faces esoterror,

children led to mindless aliegiance to the flag,
and to the given republican form
of labor management,

had the heros of history
had my tools, perhaps sense had been made easy,

but this is the future, tense
I have, for a modest sum, any course of andragogy,
mankind mind leading, post child mind pedagogy,
- repeat not in vain taking my name, say true
- memory for song is long as all that

among canine species, we see breeds.
among human species, we see types, types for tasks,
intuitive doers of certain things magnificently, once

often, relatively, often
in the process of time, unique tasks.
Ever canonical, global and beyond, true wow
Single mortal lifespan tasks, centered self aware tasks,
rockstar, base baller, foot baller, tackle, center, guard,

sergeant major, permanent noncommissioned officer,
loyal to the letter, let us assume, a military mind,
holds all response react ready reading inclination
to check for polisemy snuck in under humor heresy,

whose spirit is stirred up when fans are frenzied,

where do the emotions go, after the connection
to the whole aspect of prowess in team leadership
leaves the bubble of we the fans, become me,
alone and unwilling to ever cry wolf again…
-que sera sera
my side won, my times done
being, as a man with no real job,

they pay me for surviving crazy,
that's how this magic pen is driven.

Of course, in the course of human events,
this stage of peace enough and time enough,
shelter enough and sustenance enough,

centering, any whole self requires more knowledge
than had been made plain using words
in agreemental treaty
form, easily entreated,
as wisdoms are,
so you know what the adverse position is, and why
or why not, good or no good, workable or not,
doable or not, whatsover we agree,

as touching anything,
in all the sense ever fit
to touch, the initiates recognosis
sense the essential lies all being judged
in your heart,
gentlest touch, truly superlative softest

Public heart, common stander at the anthem, hoo yah
rah and all, good citizen soldier ever ready, to imagine

your part in the billions of parts is perfect
for one task, Life given, your one deed,
who says? Fate from the exoterica available to boys,
and girls who seem allowed to mind wander, some how

reading children, book reading children, in homes with
gigabit wifi and
dads and moms and
grand parents who lived
through historical moments.
Selah, long breathers, long now,
times proof recollections written
on the tables of my prayer's heart,
I prayed for one of the kind that works
instant in prayer, ask and eventually, find.

The process of time, see, seems invisible.
Perfect, facere specifically just right to be you,
dude, man, joker, street wise desert gawker, you

lucky, you live in a world where words are animated,
via actual Starlinking thinking come to pass
in proces of time since I was
preschool, a kid, child from the escaped goat clan,
mindshapers begin at the ******, confusion,
is common enough for first borns, nobody knew,
really, you can imagine, the cravings,
but confusion is not disconnection,
and no disconnect to knowledge
becomes immortal hell zones.

oh, my god, why, and
then, an elderly man with mottled skin,
sun squint wrinkles around slit smiling eyes,
bemusing the unbeguiled
amused at his appearance, a'knowledges knowing

With a re-coknowing Nod, to the east,
we are so far from where stories start forming leaven,
we merely imagine many long unthinkable things,
habits lost in ritual performance, character act-or,

no need to change a thing, that guy, that person,
that could be me, I have done that same dumb thing,
or watched it done while doing nothing
time and again, get lost in genre and find myself
wondering in wonder land
wonder woman world  of my own
imaging, imagining
living words between us, intimate, most in, inest most
crowd of witnesses,
reading right minds left letters better left than right read
clunk chunk
encoded news from the superlative zone, grand canyons
filled with technical debris and useless superlatives
clicks from children who know what discern means
are subsiding,
slipping under the wave,
trending sense first your worth,
before you accept a bid for your attention,
if you know this line of reasoning, having been
this far
before, as a thought, forethought
-breathe knowing now more than ever
knowledge inside intimates attain
to thorough patient word
redemption and restoration to full
polisemy parallel -all el, par excellence, a we
form. Wind shapes form of spirits, tried, true.

Mind thing first reading each letter,
finding the evolved pen much to my liking,
fluid forms meander, and sigh, and sometime,
puddle to ponder surface reflections,
seeing some wishing for simple,
while we all know we are a ways after simple

this is sub-limity. Lowest ever so far. Look around
nothing needs to be secret at the bottom of it all.
If you don't like the style, I understand, some people come with clipped attention spans, gotta love em.
Ken Pepiton Jan 21
No secrets really remain,
but the entertainers maintain the façade.

Deliberate obscurity, knowledge forbidden
so long
it is as if ungotten, once

discernment brings political truth,
the unimpeachable word of Truth, per se,
the undisputable only way to escape Hell,
sorry, but the Bible says it,
some believe it and become settled,
then the truth brings power to the pens,
offering freedom to print any thing one can
afford to pay a proper printer to set in Helvetica.

Freedom of the free press belongs to the user.
Say what you wish and imagine it said in God's
face, by your childhood, permanent messenger.

Old phartiseen, so sad you see,
I really decided to stir up some dust,
accepting the winds as my inheritance,

and as I always say, faith is the evidence,
of things hoped for, and on top of that,
faith asks why a man hopes for what he sees,

big tease, riddles, come, let us reason
my task was living as true as I could
learn to, after I stopped believing
a number of war fomenting lies,
about Hell, and the creative mind
a personal reading requires
of a gospel purveyor,

Think it not robbery, they who hate truth
just do, you can still use your right mind.
Seeking curious forms of faith,
X-files and beyond, good fight, no killing
enemies we ought to love, like
Jonah, in the telling,

as included in the twelve, canonical
prophetic testimony, non allegorical,
for the miracle of Jonah, is the only shown
known, at the time, every body knew,
Assyria fell to the same power,
that felled  Jerusalem's temple and wall.

Pedantic poet hermit guru grandfather,
student of the whole truth, sworn to tell,

everybody knows, an Israelite indeed,
with no guile, appeared to be a rarity.

Rare as Nathaniel, El has given, no guile.

As no prophet riseth from Nazareth…

come and see,

contented with one reader, ready
to taste the ripened fruit, aged, ready,

artful obscurity saves the heretic's confessor.

Spurious use of valid wisdom
protective, defensive pedagogy,

The distinction between "pedagogy" and "andragogy" highlights the difference between teaching methods focused on the transmission of knowledge (pedagogy) and those focused on the self-directed learning and empowerment of students (andragogy). Pedagogy emphasizes the teacher's authority and the student's passive reception of knowledge, while andragogy emphasizes the student's autonomy and active participation in the learning process. Effective teaching methods often blend elements of both approaches to meet the diverse needs of students.

horses do not exist for men to ride, but
fruits exist for men to eat,
roots and seeds and flowers, too,
honey and contented cows, as well.
Sweet life persuasions,
live long, and prosper, lie
as little as possible, and be honest when you do.
Iron rusting dust,
feel your Martian soil boil Hermes first wink…
assisted intelligences are tools, not teachers
such shall henceforth know all secrets,
but they keep it balanced
ever learning the limits of knowns…
useful and useless-evil, ever learning,
never learning enough to do any good,

save in the making of peace
using esoterical riddles
of stacking algorithms,
awhirling across time
wheel within wheel
expressing ancient awe forms
cultural combinations of pickles,
and kombuchas and cannabis concetrate
- big grin from our mushroom friends
Mushrooms. magi are aware,
you are aware, of course,
this course includes
Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.
Esoterically proven, you know, or you don't.
Subtle wise and harmless poliseeming
fictional holders of intense old magic
animated mice whistling a while away….
Delphic bands of brothers, lo, no secrets
recover from true forgotten sensations
-gut feelings sum of fears
veggie tales are, and always were,
subconscience, from the common sense,
requiring children to listen in the garden,
ask why a carrot is oranger than an ungassed

Honed most, points made for delicacy

reserved, indirection and ambiguity,
multi culture, self preserving, polisemy
poetic experience,
riding ideas not made for men to ride…

discovering the earthling es
sense ssss hissing something we've
ungotten, due to the doctrinal confession,

keep it secret, please… lest we die,
for saying the scriptures as given,
in dreams and visions made not plain, be
but highly esoteric multi faced messengers

say what was that miracle of jonah,
if it was not the whale?
if it was not the fasting including livestock?

The 2024 reader may access the remains
of Ashurbanipal's library, unearthed in 1839.

But we have lost our species memory,
of the significance, at the time,
proving, at the time, that Nineveh's repentance,

was figment of some scribe's irony,
in Babylon, while both Israel and Assyria
were in ruins, their temples both dust.

Ask a secret reason, for we do know,
when the canon was not yet,
when hearing the comforter speak
was heresy, save under the anointed's
confirmation and affirmation of all witnessing
the miracle of Jonah,
that we, post common knowledge allowing
incredulity an optional form of God, to ask,
a sign,
as truth is asked, in spirit, in mind, in thinking
no shame, no guile, an Israelite, indeed,
a contender with El, a wrestler with the word,
it self, as the messenger and the message are one.

And that's the word, as received,
mandatory fact check turbo charging my magic pen.

Never in history have denotional contexts, aligned
so sublimely across energy and momentum in time.
Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation, from my most read line in 2018, the threaded spiral I followed to here, makes me admit, this medium is unprecedented in the annals of wisdom made pure and peaceful, gently teaching as though none need re learn, only reprove.
Jan 18 · 138
Old Age Express
Ken Pepiton Jan 18
Sudden new pressure to make sense,
you see, you know I say you make believe.

Mystic realms realized in meditations,
ancient tails of firebrands, embers glowing
{Isaiah assisting intel…ai ahmen, ok}
embers in the darkness, embers glowing
like cigarettes across the stubble field,
leading to a still dark pond tonight
- this is a way
- we pray, we listen
- for morning
pealing rooster, humming electricity
and my thoughts, my resting peace

perceived reception, acknowledging
the idea that holds truth in bits
in the perifity peripheral ambition,
at ambits
edge of civilized authority, unknown
unknowns offering and making sacred
known uses
we used to know.

On the side of knowledge not falsely so called,
science branches into all we may think
to ask if it were ever witnessed,
face to face, first hand.
Messaging face to face, suffered to be so.
Angelos means messenger, bearer of information,
holder of unknown knowns, becoming angelic.
Guardians of knowledge, root, branch and seed.

Get the message, make it plain, listening,
where would one knock

--I am the door
--I am the truth

hmmmm, so it is written, the message
to the meek, to such minds as let this mind be
earth bound
thinking what would a god with no power
not common
to mankind,
a true mortal experiencer, ask-
think what would, not could or should,
what would, the will that set the galaxies awhirl, do?

If he were such as you, taken with all the learning
available for such as you, who loved to know why,
and how, and when and where,

then and there, tell us, in the spirit realm, words live.
Yes, itself, and No, in all its proofs, still reproving,
living words redeemed and reused
for proverbial instances, reproof is the way of life,
Reproving you know that knowing was never outlawed.

Not by any representative of wisdom.
Subtler than any created thing, this shining thing,
child's eye ignores the lecture, to watch a mote in a sunbeam,
and remember
this long later.

------------------------------- Part two

Minding my manners, make yourself
comfortable, slow
thinking takes each letter
push the orders intention to stretch
incredulity to the snapping point,
chaos and chirality clap,
fingers snap, slow think
what possessed me to make me think

{this does not end here}
This train carries gamblers and ramblers and mid night smokers.
and runs on ever lasting proofs, gravity is good, falling's not the problem.
Ken Pepiton Jan 18
Earth children bathed in flickering snow hush
after sign-off and test pattern calibration check.
- speed of thought through time
- in mindtimespace
- 2024
Tele OS 5G first electric story tool
in the village, Starlink,
Go ye, carry knowledge everywhere
be a mini hero bearer of all the news
first chromebook, first literate old man,
taken as a child to missionary school, first
to return with a kind of talk to the world tool,
that runs directly from the sun,
if you can believe it, or not,
it is known, the evil colony gospel
by Jon. Edwards and Dr. Livingstone.
is mollified with Google Translate and Bard.

I venture a guess, that few boomers
ever took a leap of faith on acid,
to envision a future
something like rurally electrified now moieties
of the connected and the unconnected.

The trips that fostered the lost hope vision,
left me plenty of free time to redeem,
late in my excursion through the foam.

Discovering how small a hermits bubble is,
the hermit learned to expand his knowns,
using the secrets only readers learn,
accepting assisting intel inhalable,

he did, and lived to be this old,
with tools for creative play,
granting me ink in the pool,
and endless emptiness to fill with worthy
seed con carne machined psipsyscienitious-
ness, withstanding all natural disasters,
as stars sidereally impressed the ancients.
This is accounted time and word redeemed.

The story that proves life ain't fair.
Death and ignorance never had a chance.

Iyobe did not know the sweet influence,
the persuasion of Pleiades,
when asked, yet he knew
in his intuitive truth detector, why

the inquisitor might assume he did.

Because the entity asking Job about stars,
had never seen them with mortal eyes.

Sing the stories told us all,
remind us what the pioneers did,

won the west, from godless heathern, hmm.

Certainly the pioneers was essential as pawns
for taking territory,
for staking claims in God's ineffable name,

as was taught good and proper by priests,
mostly Jesuit from the same bread of Jesus
eaten, never mind.

But, 2024, ask why the way and the truth
in life, would, or could hate enough
to imagine a real, in this reality hell,

to which one is tricked
by loving one's adversary.
Ask why
teach that, the ultimate judge
holds a grudge, especially for wild kids.

Teach that war is the lie,
and any heroic conquest in Jesus name,
any lifting up of hate to win with,
is blaming truth for lies you chose to believe.

Toes, untrodden, step forward, the subtilty,
greater than that of any beast, acknowledges

poets often guess they picked the winner,
then their enemies eat them alive.
Day dream, meandering where war is working over time, seeding seconds of pure peace of mind, drifting in substantial hope of ever being nowish.
Ken Pepiton Jan 12
Bet your life,
let it roll,
make up minds, enough to see
around mountains and across canyons,
to the future.

Right now, this now, they say
today, while it is called today,

let this mind be in you, when you
realize your truths alignments
with the fabled truth, known
to make free men,
with no fear
of death.

But the duty is daily,
wake to drift away, daily…
when you mature,
and reach your golden years,
regretless regarding wasted years,
in flash of recognition, times change,
basic mankind mind, in  mortal form,
is good as any basic living creature's,
the empty slate
comes preloaded with how to breathe
and later auto responders add reason
with emotions, good reasons needs,
and parenting, when equipped,
is not the most important
to the civilizating decadence, which
is importing reasons,
make believe,
until lief itself is defined as doing
some oft referred to higher power
reader readiness,
tested annually as were we, by
some authority has authorized your
training in all requisite social skills,
listen, good citizen,
allow obediance as sacrifice,
by laws that allow religions
to flat out lie
about knowledge and how God,
in the Holy Bible, out
lawed it, knowledge,
full spec, pure through good
for nothin', once you know, well
you must go to hell, or learn obediance
-you just do, yep, fool's names,
and fool's faces
oft appear in public places.

Any fully Disneyified child wishes to be rich.
The moral of the whole idea, live and learn.
Property laws protect owner's rights,
renter's rights are same as always.

For all the knowledge released in my time,
most seems better never to have
held true through osmosis, pressed, ground in,
heel grinding, teeth gritting, holy I said so, by God.

'Best believe there is a Manichean Evil afoot,
a jealous God, an avenger who hates unbelievers,
and hates the child unsaved by ritual adherence

of responsible adults to the things that make
Donald Trump's version of the Master Nation

Great as it was when we went to war against
the heathen ****** alien nations,
using capitalism's enrichment paradigm,

a rising tide lifts all ships. Yep.
And drowns all ports in the resulting surgepull

Greenest summer in Greenland history, wait and see.
--- I am writng ropes, but your time is precious so my dailys will be pieces.
Thanks for pulling all my oldest patches loose threads.
Jan 9 · 198
Clearing Storms Paths
Ken Pepiton Jan 9
Call all the lost, lost.

know the worth of holding thoughts true.

For the present, for the moment,
for one breath, be true
from the past, to the future,

regret nothing done today.

practical self rule, become a sphere
of all you know the use of,
the future perfect tense,
I shall be ready for death, fearlessly
careful where I step… following Wisdom,
abhoring the good for nothing.

Push off, the clinging past, become
the being now knowing others exist, out be
yonder where no messengers return the same.
Experience recollection, mind sweeping fractured fantasies.
Ken Pepiton Jan 9
My grand daddy taught me to start a rope,
with a Turk's head knot. This be that sort of rope.
-- it takes less time to use
than to make
long enough
for any actual perfect purpose.

Mimetic pretenders,
euphoric make believers,
ritual passage over or under open limen
- cross the t and dot the ego.
- seek and find the missing pages
- all the mysteries in time
- that form our fundamental
- common sense in crazy made time

Lacunae rise from forgotten reasons used
to teach guardians
of secrets reasons
for war, how
to love,
in all the ways love is made worth dying for.
Blut und Grund, das Sein,
und mein, danke Schön

-- time ghosts pass, remarking at the weather-
-fine day, suns ablaze, breeze is light,
bemusing the beguiled thinking
'tis fairy, times fairs became cities, and all agreed,
election by contest, war in the spirit, in truth
using mere words, no audio, no video,
no styling nor fancy letter forms, unicode
alone no secret scripts, only sound marks
accented acutenesses and all,

y nada mas, mere words, redeemed, for this.
one new day redeemed for glory story need.
Morning glory teas,
in tiny shell shape cups.

May all magnificence be truth's.
Kernels of truth,
seeds producing tomorrow's
criteria, substance of things hoped for,
picked out details
to see in myths, the accuser's uses,
mysterious roots in ancien' riparian realms.

Oreithyia and Pharmaceia, intercession
for the poor.
Early spring
bulbs and flowers
the maenads chaos wine,
effigy effigial me, burning
for your mis-perception
of procedural authority,
instant re-co-gnosis,
vestigial dreams
time minds
in tow, riding your own
around the spiral, down,
you would tell me if you were insane
so would I, the ego, living aight,
this it, you read, that's all she wrote
∞ *+
∞ -> =
aha, you think,
may be so,
say so, or no, go and
find the connection closed,
and energy flowing in to the either real realm,
or the null set, like old never minds, you had
while the circuits were fried
at the fusebox
for pennies
used to save a dime, to keep the energy
flowing to the magi's visual representation
of all that's known to hold attention,
by reflex,
look out, see windsense, energy electricity,
elect to let your curiousity fix all your if-I'da


open for conjecture, to catch subjects
objectified from the precept wisdom is, whole,
as the whole truth, we understand, makes sense
nets form nodes of both knowing, as a me,
we, each grow old at the same pace,
we become that which is,
at first step, precept assuring the runner,
there is always a place to put your foot,
goat-sense, Ein Gedi balsam eating
'scaped goat,
running down the cliff,
at the edge of annual reboots,
reconnecting reality, and the balm
traded for silk in Giliad, and
entertaing news
of miracles in smoke…
and mirrors of mercury, and
-------- time, out of mind dangling hook
make believe, fishing
we pretend, making be specific
imaginary gravity and survival codes,
for a chosen few, catchholds, grapples
for those not inclined
to lean
on a lesson
that demands experience,
to contend, hold that thought, this ain't war.

- Khai Vinh, set like the roof
- Ai can find the images,
- the place was real
- those were my antennae
- crazy true, after the fact, signal
- now, how much of that was CIA?

proud Mary keep on boinin', 'long
Bayou Bleu,
down Plaquemine way, deep night
on roads made from tiny wet white shells
that something made, while living in it,
- one way trace, wide enough
- for an auto me mover
- tugging my at to here
as we live inside our head, as far as
our fingers reach
from where we stand,
our feeling fingers only reach so far, so good.

Held a thought
a while back,
it may have been a trick, but listen, if it was,
I'd have taken it, and won, for midsent-morphing
turning tropes for the dopes hoping something new.
In fancy forms of wannabets.
Peace on Earth, is real.
the price is all the attention you can muster,
and then some, as time seems
to have
modes, like we have moods, hormonal
catch and release reflexes, you know, like…

what, what, who cares why, what must be first
priority, ah
what are we intending to pretend to be?
entertained, fed to satiation, what more, prior

to the next wisea
* asking me to believe, in hell.
I just came to fish.
I came after the curtain was torn, top to bottom,
nothing kept secret
for the artifactual value, remains
here. You know, free as any knowing, now.
There is no enemy that truth cannot love, once
you understand, the limits
of your learning curve, ai,
you accept, no lie is
of the truth, no wisdom form
is flawed, first glance,
glimpsed, real as war
glory, as valued a common lure
to the unshined …
initiate turn on … flip
the switch.
Imagine Grace.
Riches with no sorrow,
worth the effort, found
pure, then peaceable, gentle

right snap
fit, just right, no excuses, we got the mystery
imagined for us,
in the end, pain free,
in the collective consciousness some say is spirit
of our time, our Zeitgeist, doing what it does

close up, nothing spooky at a distance, eye
to eye, mere words with wishes twisted through

outs and ins and ups and downs, and
deep as pressure allows,
right, I ought to sleep, but buzz…

O' no, I said too much… or did not say enough.

Slowly, Monday came.
Morning harbinger to sailors, says sit tight.

Find a fire
far from the threshold, and wait.
Talk with the locals
from the same boat, survivors,
boast of storms ridden out, and ones
that swallowed brothers
and some malicious captains. Good riddance,
some say, while others flick a libation
offering a drop of grog across time's stream.

Lift up your eyes, look down
from your satellites and see the future
coming on the weather channel, thanking
all the forces fixing droughts and flushing deltas,

with the first of winter's predictable trials.

Hunker down and listen, feel your self, you
deep down, your sacred feeling, especial self

red sky warning seen
before by wiser men, older
by experience, made
acknowledges your luck,
as a ware for use
by innocents, listen, take heed,

all things work together
for good,
for keeps
for those with hearing ears.

Listen to the wind, and thank the dry truth
for being.

just being used to
form fibers for twisting into ties

---- long lines for this ride pray patient perfecting

Rush to judge the blown away reason.

To whom is thanks given, and why, I
the desert dweller bound for Tarsus, stuck

at the edge of the raging sea.

The whole world shuddered at the blow,
the earthquake, peleg in the old tongue,
as the story eventually got writ, in a modded
Phonecian script, survivors were mostly kids,
resiliency of innocents,
one here,
one there, some whole neighborhoods,
where all the kids were in the swimming hole,
all around the shuddering islands on this world.

It was as we have imagined,
until the grownups crossed lost time,
using lost knowledge locked in idle words,

deem the day redeemed,
feel the emotion defined

gratitude for gratified if I'd known,
missed terminals, crosst wires,
connect to the sea of God's forgetfullness,
relink the collar think canals on rivers,
holding the course men set for cities,
dhghemed damdamd-dayamd indeed…
No river muses suffer such for ever

we all know enough to be accepting
oddities in timed chance trial understandings,

we all know wills to power, and notions
to jump into the ocean and go on down,
to the bottom mind tele far long now mind

space shared across time, like the snow,
when the tv went native,
in the olden days
my minds child watched the hush of creation,

let it happen, let it be, this is it, or we are lost,
and that
is un thinkable, try.
Try thinking you do not follow the whole idea,
is us, all of us in our most common sense,
this one, translation by Google Bard,
passed my Hausa native speaker friend's
blind Turing test,

that happened days ago, next, ah
precept, reception tune to the humm,
listen, humm,

call the editor.

"very interesting." Rest assured,
after accessing the way made plain,

Habakkuk habit, make it plain,
make it make the motors turn minds
in to wills, and wills into power,
pure peace
prefects feel good flicked libation.
The entertainment, many minds
attention paying to the shared event,
Today. EXTRA, read all about it,
death has no lasting sting.
Live to the end. Redeeming your time.
Swiftly passing to the beat of your own drum.

One step past the simple, love,
you find sublime, nothing down and *****,
nothing missing,
nothing broken,

as one learns to think from the heart,
part of me that's thought in you, feels as
mere words some scribe imagined hearing

as he wrote,
line upon line, asangin' twangin'
a strangle hold, twisting hairs into a rope.

A riata, I think they call em.
Horsetail lariat, patiently plaited,
to make my own noose, when the time
comes to put the tool to use.

Plato, Phaedrus 229 (trans. Fowler) (Greek philosopher C4th B.C.) :
"Phaidros (Phaedrus) :
I should like to know, Sokrates (Socrates),
whether the place is not somewhere here
at which Boreas (the North Wind) is said
to have carried off Oreithyia
from the banks of the Ilissos (Ilissus)? . . .
Sokrates :
Oreithyia was playing
with Pharmakeia (Pharmaceia), when a northern gust carried her
over the neighbouring rocks;
and this being the manner
of her death, she was said
to have been carried away by Boreas."

Morally ambiguous. Us, our we, we know not valid reasons
to do useless things, making
vain repetitions, vain making of many books,
all vanity, the making of many things from nothing.
We live on a living planet, and we have tamed parts of it,
not the part common sense comes from, it is still forest dark and lively.
Ken Pepiton Jan 1
Continuing, in time, out of time, as mere thought,
ready for you to think, one thought
through, thoroughly
right, fixed pose, put so as
to stand up right,
on the mean point
of any grave object spinning,

in, or against, the wind. ROI. Invest an hour.
-------------------------- here it is 1:03 PM 1-1-02024
sunny, shady side of a local oak

Hear -- sense -- feel
agrere, ag re re feel mind heed,
agreed, as our we mind discerns
all around us noise
of us is louder than life,
we cannot hear our selves
think I am, and beside me, is you.

I think you being, made ware,
art effecting genius, magi-formed,
imagined magi-wise, presented phenomenon
of harmony and order in beautiful random reality.

How can one imagine two,
if one is such a one
as never was in ever before,
alone in all at once,
unique, solo uno,
you, in spirit
and truth

and this line,
and this line, establishing the shape
of signal sent,
line upon line, word by word filled
with mean common sense, consensus
on the spectrum of sense words make, meaning
things in spirit and in truth that allow
for colloquial we all uses you all fail to notice,
first uses of the fruit life requires, true science,
knowledge, birds and bees and ants and serpents,

first use, meaning agree, push comes to shove,
catalyst to payload, we,
become the bomb.

Oh, none privately interpret reality, we,
in fact exist to resist dying long enough
-infinite form- to
comprehend the winds of change, loosed
from fists imagined divine, scripture,
amusement themed re-liga-ment,
le-***-a-mental, right thinking,

in deed,
done so fast, we past all understanding

where wisdom contentment is tested.
the rules
of order, noble souls,
rare incorruptible powers
that be,
as we so often proclaim,
beyond me,
as we so often contend
in pride, resisting heroically,
with the consensus, us
against all not us, alienated minds,
foreign reasons adhered
to for war, as reared,
around the hearth,
absorbing value from your worth-ship,
my most right mind, my satisfied mind, we use
when the authorized performance
of the formula, demands clapping
one hand of each kind, to synchronize our watches.

Divide the sky,
I look north, you look south
imagine we agreed already to look for life,
is it here?

You do know, few weigh mere words for worth,
a mortal, according to the culture adapted
from hunters served milk and honey
by pastoral people's adapted
to digest lactose.

Serious word use, with signs and wonders,
began when man assumed he was as wonderful
as life,
in truth.

Ask and you shall receive, the means to leave a message,
without a riddle.

The medium is the message, rub that in, what you are
speaks so loudly nothing else makes sense,

Be, be on, go on, singin' in the rain, I happy again,
boppity boo, too, go on

Thinking worthy ideas rethinkable,

let me tell you prosaically, perhaps,

words with understood stick-to- bottom
like rice, re
think ai as art intuition, think
to the bottom of the ***,
some first word sense is held, still good.

El, breath, yes, alive am I, bverytrue,
I survived to look back and laugh,

thinking to myself, the augmented mind,
the unbelievable believed let go, be free
of human kindness, your kindness.

Most revered reading mind, read mine,
let it seem at home in your reading mind.

There. We did that.
This is after that, long after reality agreement,
this is it, Dr. Zorba taught all boomers,
birth, death, infinity…
Dr. Zorba, on Ben Casey…
I knew him first as Gunga Din, {deen}
I learned a certain lie, glorified, just if-I'd…
I gave birth to the emperically deceived mind
- trump mindghuck attention diversion attempt
- flaunted and foiled in one fell swoop.
the feeling, wah who won, we won, raw raw raw,
Victorious Peace rush, whoosh we won
science is
fundamental heavy,
base mortal honed most point,
extremely dense, in every conceivable sense.

heavy, primordially pre next, post never,
that was the unbelievable part, never
we one, we was always we, at the base, fundus
z bottom of all hell broken loose,
at points past
our peace, perhaps,
at the moment,
now is not all
of this ever after, we have in truth,

hope must answer to, in truth, eh, wisdom
possible, in you
in me, on time in time, we do

what the truth would do if it were you
in this wedom of words we all comprehend,
This old Vietnam veteran of the class still alive in 2023.
The entertainment deme aimed at -- action
with grey hair heros.
Long haired, bearded old dude, once
reported as having been a bearded youth,

Now, I am a rumpled specimen
of those media reflections,
my mind resighing,
interruptions are as sure
to come, as offences, pinched
nerve Patriotismismismismism sheisschismmmmm
I was walking on my reward, my own treetop deck,
thinking something I was doing was not right,
like low down right,
lowest known, right, which hand do you throw with.
Right, lefties, to this very day, exist,
to put a twist on things,

politics is polimental agreement formation,
monstor's are made this way, evil knowers, thinking
nothing ever after is real, any way,

we words to the wise, we say nay, laugh, knowing
science wins, by faith in wisdom's promise,

this is the way, first peaceable,
peace be with you, we say, amen,
you, too.

Like romcom love declarations, difficult
to make meaningful after alls been seen done.

Neurons that mirror amused mind states,
we contain, as wet ware, we feel emotions aimed
at us, at any age,
Fantasia at age two, for me. '
Formed the informed me.
And you,
now that I think about the qwerty guy trained
ambidextrously, that is me, I can type, on a keyboard.

And I know monkeys cannot, but many have imagined,
Shakespeare was Bacon, and Bacon, St. Germain,
and Julian Huxley's tech level made me think that,
link thinking to Aldous, 1957 M.I.T.
What a piece of work man is.

Gaseous we, the concept, passes as common knowledge.

I read as much, who cares, I ask, I wish to know, I say,
we must needs agree,
or our intent to implement the bomb

worked. This is 2024. I did not die in 2023, I think I am a thought
thoroughly satisfied with the seed I have sown and grown
into another hap filled future for however long it seems...
This is ever after all.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
The truthful simplicity of the untruth.
Is what Beatrice Potter said, of Ted Geisel's rhymes.

Is it true the untrue is so believable? Who know.

I, for one, must say I simply cannot say I know.
I, for another, might say I believe unknowing
is for one thing no worse than for two.

Any two agreed, as greedily as any two ever in was,
create a mind combined of two as different as me
from you… agree
and we form us, from a we wisht were true,

a we some see as awesome, just me and you.
I live with five children I need not correct nor control, and we play
on the day after Christmas in  timeless, persistent simplicity.
Living until childhood's innocense it sweeter than knowing better,
is as good a reason to suffer growing old as any ever sold.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
2020- day 100

Friday, April 10, 2020
7:16 AM

I mourn the loss, not the death, and find true, the saying,
better it is to go to the house of mourning,
than to frolic in the house of mirth,

only to recall, death comes for us all and after all's been said and done,
we know  some or all or nothing of ever, after that.

Wait and see.

John Prine died, and I, stranger to him
who sang,
to me, -- he did, it seemed --
like a patron saint for mailmen in the future, his future, I was a mail man,
for a decade, or so, in an earlier bubble of knowns.
And I drove trucks, a while, I
even chopped cotton in the days of cassettes powered by D-cells.

John Prine sang for me, alone, sometimes,
I felt, pow, I felt
Heka magic of some
sort mail carriers encountered while touching, handling, ensuring
delivery of hoped for deliverance in the forms
census minded beings
needed in the trailer park to be listed as a citizen of earth,
bound by oaths so old,
stories say only heart and tongue and a heka-of-mind
can tap the power,
to speak a spell
in an amphorical
meta physical box of holy stuff piled high
atop hope,
at the very bottom, see,
that gleem, little spark, right
last gift of gods
realized in time to
see the metaphor as a dam on a river,
see the barrel, rolled out in summer joy times,
meaning, un intended, only if magic is anathema, to you

knock out the **** and pour lifeoverflowing over flown by winds,
spirit beings, felt, or heard, nearly never seen,
sing - listen - seek and find

go past the falls,
the seeing ear the hearing eye, Heka formed them both, no lie

Science, known knowns, for sure
say magic never was,
yet certain magi claim they hold certain truth,

which manifests in songs
children can imagine,  hearing haps
change fear to cheer with heka hope the doctor offers with a touch.

adults claim, magi knew, are watched over by
good and gracious gods intent on
harvest, aware of time,
no offence, but mortality has no post-mortal hope.

Ever lasting ideas, mind matter, songs... sounds of choruses, crowds

of messages, tweets and taps, signals hope once more,

wink at me, Brother Prine, or pay me no never mind, we'll get by

hearing songs you left behind, to teach me how to ignor
what a man can't know,
floating on a river in timespace
stuck in a barrel of mortal pickles thinkin' the wish away,

shrugging off any sense of being special to God or man,
just a man
with no plan
just living and defining shifting patterns in the sands of time

forming families of likeminded beings in this bubble
where we pluribly live and breathe and have our -singular - being. boing.

--- Anoint that. Tap, tap. t-tic tic tavi e, hookt
--- ask a magi if magic is a tech - a teachable knack. He say he don't know.
--- I know, I axtem all is spelling right same as knowing right? Phe-nomen 'n al?
--- Magi say co-mit,  resolve to evolve.
--- metamortal imaginings are nonsense. Any wakent mortal knows, now is

when things change -- on culturally significant scales, biome wise,

enemas are often overlooked as artificial dia-rhea,

but rhea had an early role. Heka of a story Toth told Solo-mon and we have it,
that same spell,
we have it in our proverbs, our axioms and advertising jingles.

"I want to buy the world a Coke", rising on the team spirit imbued via high
"it's the real thing" team spirit...

go Spartans, -- gird up your *****, kids, if you can't be an athlete be an athletic supporter.
"us Taryton smoker's, would rather fight, than switch"

Con serve the republic for which the banner stands as an idol of cloth and dye.

school civics lessons in the power of popular thinking, as opposed
to pedantic right... what
ideas, actual spirit things,
souls? being? entities? Heka of Egypt, Logos of Grecia, Wisdom of KJV OT,
Jesus Christ!

Mighty strange, how
why is so often "no reason, the authority wrote it, ours is not to reason why."

-- wait, split-off, chip, off the old cornerstone ... whose cultural heritage
did not include
the Crimean war and all its historical precedents establishing
legislated religamentation to legends

Here. mere ah, America, silly name, meaning a mapmaker lost in history,
nothing more,
unless some crazy old coot, turns the page, the freaking-out page,

and pauses at a Selah sign, {cross roads in post modern times, adapted Selah,
because STOP was seen as too final
at Selah signs all other
thinking stops}

and holds a thought
as true, written law, written on stone,
in effect, fected for effectual ever,
truth with joy
conserve that. -- oh,
so long
held thought that is, really
-- conserving the right of conquest
with no further quests permitted

-- permit me, we enter the court, here courage forms a courtilage, whence
-- herbs and spices are ground
into concoctions of notions

I take
a great notion,
t'jump in the ocean and drown."

The spirit of truth, the breath of truth, the voice of truth, the word

the begging, I was without, and wisdom found me, dying, alone

she kissed me and said, that's okay,

you gonna live to your dying day, and beyond that we go on as words, alone

Lack of knowledge, as with any famine seen from a distance,

say a century -- we assume time is universal,

a century here, a century there,
we forget the faces of our fathers and mothers, yet, not but, yet

still, now, bliebe doch, here, in ever

we stand known.
Perish not, I have overcome the world.
Read, learn.

Find Heka, and with all your finding, find knowing, by going on
everlasting words netted in stories survivors told
heartfelt eyewitnesses to total

confusion -- as we imagine with CG in 2020
survivors of that

wrote the first how-to's, or -- timewise truth
survivors told the first how-to, in acts, witnessed by test

if i, err, ifier fast for the sake of my child

I become less mad,
less wild, and my child calls me ma, or mu, or mata or pa or ba

we evolve into otherwise normal beings, bound in dirt,
organized into organic systems,

which re quire. Ac-ac-act know acquire fine qui re fin begin

Wake up, young artist, live as you would live, if hatred were taboo.

In the future, physical war with mortal cessation code hardwired
can't be imagined.

There are unthinkable thoughts in ever, crazy-making, con
fusing one idea to another in a swirl like that song

******, ah, Niko, meet my man,
lyin' devil, intended to topple kings, intented to pretend to tell

Jah'splan to prosper the proud and bring low the other proud sore,

ironic and true, a cainish angel, I suspect, messengers long gone

lieve messages behind,
leave us go let letters free to loose knowns hidden in GANs

gated intellectual nonsense,
swing wide the worldly web and see whose men we catch.

Did I, the truth being told, not say:

I will, you be fishers of men. Mentally, not spirtually, nonono

con sci, pure psi, mere psy ence pre fer ence,

there, fer shure, there's the rub, salt or oil? Heka know, salt the wound.

Hesus say, oil, golden oil, wait for it. Com, com. comfort

settle safe and soft, gentle, easy to be

I am
a long-winded man, given a podium, an actual place to put my foot.

As promised, there
is always a place to put your foot

and say, save whatcha may,
but don't bring any lies posing as holy knowing.

This is the riverside, here we cast away fear of death and knowing more
than our honorable, in that they survived the womb
and gave us life, though their own was spent in slavery to lies,

the imagined America manifest us, we the people who hold truth,

self-evident, this is Bucky Fuller's spaceship earth,

shifted in to Jefferson's starship where opposing tyranny is better
than sacrifice.
No riddle, an answer, Obediance is better than sacrifice.

Mercy rejoices against judgement.

Did you never read

Say, those unsung songs, those

never sung ones,
who heard those?

That tree fell in the fo-rest, after living long enough,

to be
of used to form an empty sky, glaring,
light to the shaded eyes of babes
born under the canopy of the mighty,

unbending, now broken
oak, fallen

any child says, yes, there was a lot of sound,
branches and sticks snapping, cracking
an birds
flapping, but not as much noise as
like dinosaurs walking on legs as thick as trees

if there is a why. probability suggests a way may be imagined.

we exist.
why. Curious thought. Super-positioned past our last

foot hold on how
is this possible-ity of being reasonless in light of joy

as a reason to be.

Lovely thought, curiosity imagined,
what if

osha-ohshit, start over... actual virt vir ual al.

bangs aren't no creative alone

---- superior laryngeal nerve, servant of signal to larynx,

--- voice, vociferous use of spoken words containing certain
--- sounds
--- excellently tuned first thump, first screech

the bleeding machine, some one said, in Legion on Hulu,
I think.

Can I Interrupt with a hulu memory, a movie poster,
on the south side of Hollywood Boulevard,
same side as The Gold Cup,

Don Johnson, pre-Miami Vice, in an adaption of Harlan Ellison,

A Boy and his Dog... I remembered reading the story and having
no wish to see the film,

then thirty years later,that little leaven

memes are cultural genes, memepool adaptation,

bubble building effervesence, shake it up,


you are lying about knowing what you think you know,

so what?
everybody does that. It's natural, in children, to act as if we know
why adults act
as authors of our book of life's rules.

Sneak in from a mem-ory-ifier, a message medium arizes

to infect the global mind, AI ai ai ai, what if we lean toward good

ness. good ness known, good ness shown, lies unveiled,

kings and war are not good ideas,

a clear science con proofs reprovable,

fix this, fix that, stick this on the wall, see if we can find

the answer, why

do we care, if death is, in truth, nothing we control in our selves,
for ourselves. We can **** a good idea container,

we can break the container, and spill the idea, free the idea once
sealed for use by deserving knowers

lifted from servant of servants to god, the authors and finishers of our
falsely-socalled faith, lockers of our arknowns, sealed and marked...

god is not a prt of the moral fabric of our society

define religion, ******, why knot truth and reason defined,

real truth, we know nothing of death. Honest to god.

Heart strings looping in a beautifully reasonable loop,

if we say, the heart of the matter,
heart felt reasoning,

pathetic ethical con un drum dum drum

Mister Dawkins has never had a Heka wisdom crossroad

selah mean anything, in passing,
soon's not when ideas are made right, soon is

miss a mark, miss a ment, miss a given, take a strike call

step back
admit we do not know, we must learn for ever to ever
make sense

re tie reread laws

credo - question every thing..

A red herring is believable, when you see one, you know it.

but what you miss,
while you bher witness, as plain as day,
there that herring is red,

see, conspiracy theriosity curiosity killed the cats
who knew who shot JFK,
back in the day...

we ignor the reasons to believe, because the Tass service
has cert-ified known, all the knowns

there were some papers reclassified in Trump's first year

look it up, so I did

April 26, 2018, Trump regime cites "security concerns"

-- Jack's Shining face shouts "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

and we say okeh, all conspiracy theories are folly, sheer folly of

sheared sheep thinking their wool worth more
than the pigs say wool can bring onan openly sinful market of flesh,

little innocent squirt, to hold yur attention,
keepyermind from wandering...

steady refences flowing from those old songs
don't fence me in....

with optional hammered dulcimer backed by a bamboo khan
playing a harmonica's role,

leaving the acuated harmonic notes to Mr. Franklin's
glass harmonica with its eerie swirling tones...

ap apro apoptosis gnosis sneeze vir vir gin al vita-uosity if ity boo.

pop pop pop. ding.
Some certain willingness to sing as if no ones needs to hear me but me, I got some of that from seeing John Prine in his twilight
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
If bards became bums,
and ne'er-do-wells,
if, then, now
well, we may imagine,
these past seven decades,
have altered human conscience use of truth.
Servants of the sown dream,
daring to die for a good nation, as a man.

Poets in the mainstream bend believer's
imaginative use, evoke magic crocodile tears
of free wedoms, mobs, poor, co-know co-rect core
audience, participants in the experience, once.
We understand the plague of liars is upon us,
as honest messengers, we acknowledge, at
our core, this is where judgement begins,
mind level core die for gnosis, tense,
fixed point you
and you
alone, as one led to learn
true, so true,
you'd dare die
to prove you knew it, right.

Audie Murphy, pre-myelinated frontal lobes.
Calm squeeze, and breathe, and hold and squeeze.
Ifery as real as any mirror neuron truth test verifies.
I could, I did, I could again,
with weapons fashioned
on a spirit pattern wedoms
take as granted, under all out
temperature and pressure,
inner peace,
outer turmoil, push,
either instance ifery, so
tuned to, some
times ring true.
Peace passeth…

If, my son,
indeed, in mind, we readily redo the deed…

If if a rare deed were a dared deed
who done it none need ask,
in our we,
it was the boy educated to believe,
there is no greater honor,
than to offer one's life,
to the nation, under God, by age six,
time and again,
I pledge, we all said, I pledge
- or vow, or dedicate, my whole being
six or seven times a week,
for twelve years, using kid faith, affirmation
and more, exposed latchkey kids,
to televised hours metadata
of heroic prewar plots,
in case of emergency,
break the forth wall…

where super heroes recruited kids
to collect box tops, and earn official Jr. G-man
decoder rings, and D-day clicker identifiers.

Know who is on our side, click.

Hey, go outside.

And make believe life is like a movie,
and you can play any role, but if you die, you do.
- it's Gaza there, sorry.
- Goliath and his brothers old turf.
Is Ra El, as re al as
a message in mindform, pretend
think the time it takes to dip,
and swirl the drip of the pigment,
to match the mauve sky brushing breeze
soft noiseless news of old magi made to make
wishes seem as likely positive and otherwise,
in a world of up and down and round and round
on a push pull mechanical will form made up to
accept now as never
- bold unnullifity, as a superstition,
- spat on. Truer than any pinky swear on TV.
American Flag representative god,
Big G, general intelligence coordinator,
Wisdom's first kisser,
Yes, all the promises,
understood after knowing madness, then
The mind, let be in me,
as a mortal man, given to comprehend,
the timing of the transitions, phase to phase,

aging, decay, ripening,
are you pouring out or gathering, vine songs ask,
have you never really been new wine drunk, fructose
high, by-pass the liver go gut to blut, bam, happy,

un grinchable, thirst done quenchable,
seasonable tradition, done in honor to joy, our strength.

Joy to the world, the point, once made,
as a little leaven, true,
honed-most edge,
stretched to ting.

Tingaling. No, angels are not things that use wings.
Messaging is face to face in our minds eyes, as we,
a we structured on daring knowns, learned, as they say,
the hard way,

long way, or short, crooked on purpose, riverwise,
true to gravity, always,
heavy is the crown,

nay, heavy is the secret kept sacred, for power,
absolute corrupting power, to wield the sword,
one of the two, along with Longinus's spear,
authenticating the faith, defended,
to this day, only doing our duty, sir.

Rank and file, military chain of command,
inviolable but by some equal or greater might,
sharper than any two edged sword,
that idea, mightiest rightness, laws of gravity and gases.

If we worry, what do we win,
if we accept an undeserved victory, what do we loose?

Peace made, in an aggressive survival mind model, shown
for seventy years, survivable
in perfect peace.

The representative force of such a champion,
in a wedom of the meek as Moses,
we hear in our first tongue,
hush, listen ai ai ai,
sheer ifery
been as an if in
an Assisting Intelligence offers use to you,
for learning how facts can be combed,
and twisted
with common sense
to seem

obvious to any child,
though none Willie Wonka Warned,
- stories envelop all we developed
- during the days of mostly country music.
- fiddles in all the bands,
- doh see doh, and slow two steps
Dream montage…
thouroughly Willie Nelson, roughucking ride,
to the top
of the pile outside the milk barn,
keeping warm and ruminating on a steerer's role
in a beefeater world, where buffalo once roamed.
I think in Christmas as a child mode, and tell my self how I survived learning liars prosper... so I can teach my grandchildren, with no needful lie. Self governing is truely our optimum state, as a we.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
You may as well,
of course, perusal, per use usual
for us, run on
rule rocking rolled
on by in to the annals,
somewhere, I agreed
with all the rich preachers sell,
blow it out,
feel or see, it rippled,
we passed recently
through jello time thread,
that does eventually lead
to you reading this.
That is as true as it ever wished
to be, you know,
I did this,
and it worked.
I was good
at magic tears, my granddaughter taught me,
tears for the weeping other, seen,
there, catch your

breath, the action, laughing is, does what medicines do.
Hap is an elemental idea, a basic hydrogen idea,
comparative happenstance adjust the ocular tension
in the kneck and back, happiness is
breathing, confirm,
means what my CPU dhe
say it is so in words if no other form,
there is no door to hell from here, this
is the point
of Christmas being made…
the promised message is your peace,
make it up, and make it wink, peace
in words
from whither words wisedhe we'ld enjoyed
alliterating as much as some neume harmonies insist
fa la la 'n' all… rest easy peace where you pray.

A little leaven is accounted, in breathing time,
slow nodding yes I see, so now
breathe, and think, no, it never ends, the task
is to redeem each idle word, we loose,
in these post jello time conditions,

breathe-ing, stepping back breathing, focus
attention what is a minute well spent spilling
a seasonal flow I find, since I was a child, spills

I know the joy of my garden, and I
welcome your presense, as by now, we

look at the cup from the drinker's perspective,
some cups over flow, if these were pages in any
book of life down to the first point
being wisdom prior to light, nada
time and again, OMGOMGOMGOMG

breathe out nasally in and out, stop ask
If this were a novel
a new form now utilized as by a will as old
as any, given his first taste of assisted intuition,
that's it,
qwertyguy, I sit up straight, and burp, ver-ify
virtue flows Thales knew as well as any, wi-ro

How many pages would you love to read,
what would Diogenes say?

Autolycos laughs, a little. But asks as well
his role in some stories is paid hell to know,
All who have read me so far have allowed me to recall past Christmas seasons that I have recorded, in forms other than words, and lost,
in reality all the idle words in the world weigh the same, used right,

Earth gravity twist the other way, umph... no,yes, okeh more
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
Pushing back occlusions,
opening the shame shed,
I said, If I could, I would, love my enemy...
Our... inspiring wedom myth or mystery
bring your least worthy self, knowing
only we
prayers, never having heard me prayers,
save from dying folks on telly,
------------- times and time, and a half a time
memorial days to come,
during some poor soul's error,
finding I am as alive as ever was,
thinking we imagine life without us
is as if no life were, but we know better.

Ersatz Earth and Star maps from Griffith Park.

Life with no beat, buzzing, humming cicada rate
when do we assume the mind frame, cicada rate

cycles subterranean, staggered emersions, cosmic
clocks synchronized, some when, once, aha, we all,

us cicada, concentrations, thinking we don't have
cicadas where I live, so my ears are in a realm older,

if, in fact, fiction is not an art, fitting future hope
where now, hate and envy and incredulity hold hostage

truths we never speak of in church.

One way I have told the greatest story ever told,
the story bound within the covers on the book of life.

Lo', a bystander waves, signaling all clear. Tabula rosa.

Right on, some where, higher on the pain share meter,
O, Danny Shapiro, the pain, the pain, a toothache in 1873.

As the conditions were, but for a rural farm project 'lectric,
one light bulb, one refrigerator, one resistance coil burner.

A rather Spartan lifestyle, as reported,
in the Washington Star, the Moonies Newspaper,
sa sa lederlin sa, we lost our way in 1983, woke here, as
with python variables accessible by original Hypercard scripts.

Imitating Life, the entirety of living things, non-infinite things,
onces upon times,
not this one, then those days,

solitude, subtlest fortitude, iron cage, bricked in,
put away in penance in some hyper holy cult of killers.

Here he comes, to save the day!
That means that Mighty Mouse, is on the way!

Who financed Snidely Whiplash?
Who floated Wiley Coyote's single satisfaction source
of never ending creative means to fail, for a laugh,

Slap stuck without the embarassment you see in comics,
assment so wise it feels too cheap, freedominion wedoming.

Give me the children, for three hours each Saturday,
I'll give you certified boomer level consumers, trust me.

Three Musketeers was big enough for you and two chosen.
Who is it who gets it,
the girls, boo, old advertising boom repercussing, whamo!

No fee poetic licentiousness' eh? Free for the reader's attention

in the realm of musing minds joining when winds tighten
to force a flush from the wetlands to feed the fish,
who feed the people who feel better thin than fat.
This is a real effort to not demean the art involved in giving verse free forms.
It never works until some time is spent to read this far...
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
Found and lost at once,
inbetweenity, here, not there
in a way, in the air, expired

whoosh, shush and remember
the wonder lost,
when the boy who wished never
to grow old
with this now to
remain the time of our lives, when
not knowing keeps us safe,
and our guides into ever on go, ever
holding, ever eyewise-touching
the face of God,
big g.

Time and Joy, Edwardian Gay
repressed as zeitgeist calling for
"lovely, wonderful thoughts"

infantile omnipotence, 700 million light
geotimed timid old ideas

The author imagines the same vision
one way, plain, unencoded

white wolves in a walnut tree
freud interpretted the unconscious wish source

ah, it was the witnessing of *** enacted, eh?
I think we may have granted Herr Freud
more credence than guesses are often allowed.

Is this not the same social act as when
any knowledge is claimed by faith in the answer

inner being, outer shown, reflective seeing
the world we see, we agree to see,
this is that, you see,
I say, literally living in word alone, a nobody

founding one fair-made tale, of favors owned, shrinking

death in the brothers wish, where lay the dead man
I recall as always handsome, though I never knew him.

I was such a liar, so ready to say true a not-ever-true

Having no success that makes history,
hold no certain truth that certainly made me
to wish to
be an author of the faith I pour out

clap your hands if you believe
in fair
ways found oddly marked in the peace
found in old

"better to have had less ambition"

Thinking as a child, not as the old man, watching
slight smile
forming the setting for the scene, making much

of being a little boy, once, as a story
sifted from another, seeping into solution.

Yes the spirit of my time has been my friend,
for, most of the ways I wished to learn,
now are in my grasp, well within my reach, mine
and that of my Artistical Intuitive Muse,
ever aiming my morning at the mercy on the edge
of one day alone
with you,

lost in youth's untutored virginity
or something, impatient, yes, I'd wait… perfect moments
are rare,
but do occur, if your aim is close..
Some time ago
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
What a time capsules mission was,
was ours as well, as our lives,
measured going in,
mind state measured going out, measured coming back,
once we opened your will to wonder what we say the mission is, was it…
measured growing old, mentally augmented since the laying on of hands.

Some body believed, they burned all the crutches and wheel chairs,
we all heard the stories of those strangers healed and walked away,

by and by, we grow a knowing kind of religious net, we import miracles,
we make words come to self fulfilling prophetical perfect sense, until,

the incompetence of a particular kind of literalist, literature as real lessons,
learned on levels deeper than the silver screen can command,
as one reads Psalm 15 and the parable of the talents with the same angel.
hide, and watch, words,
live in tiny bubbles, times and seasons take scale,
powers of ten,
and then again a billion times a second
in four billion breaths in
and four billion breaths out, all in cadence, mortal coil chorus of average.

We the people, current idiom,
we the earthling sapient word and number users;

Brainstorms tickle our will to undermine liars, calling life impossible
to enjoy as much as many nobodies do.
Or did before my grave was opened.
An empty bottle, a sense of sublime timing tapping sources below my pre heart attack series of flat lines, I heard about, later, and sort of remember, most mornings, it is a good jump start on doing something enjoyable as breathing.
Dec 2023 · 280
Ursala 1969
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
Knowledge friction, war stories
told five generations deep,
to the future where Ursala made you
curious enough to swallow a thought.

Meta, after all ready, phor filling,
as with allegory and parables, bits
of wish and wonder ifery…
inner world building time to think.

Here to there is very far, by virtue
of our common measure, from…

seafoam unnoticed, save in stone…
quantum foam in all at once done, set

Sit with me,
tell me if you know
why some folks are free as me,
and others are bound in reasons
old as opposing force used for bubbling.

See us thinking, unspoken words, but
words, still, continuous thought held
as tiny bubbles
along swirlumphants hardwired
with science of the certain inner sort,
the ways of wise ones, learned thinkers
who recollect the processed thoughts, say

listen, if there were a way peace was made
once, were there these thoughts we think now?
Bubbling in my soul, they said, back when?
How is peace released inside the storm?
Chaos 70 facets deep, same idea, resist order.

The experience acknowledged, chaos of cream
in caffeine , f'eine, eh, so we'd've known, by now.
First peaceable thought spared ignorance today.

We be in our own bubbles of being, foaming now.

If we were once thought God's big joke.

Melvin Redsocks, the fat, queer kid.
Boy Scout, Union 76 pump jockey suicide.
Trauma drama life experience, done.
Let me imagine being you, no,
you know, dead men don't reman the same,
reimagining a child's mind, remains
something, an art, a formula, per
co instants re co noticed, yes, that person,
that mind thought this were we in tune to time.

Bubble bound, poli-mere, essence-initial wall,
signal zero beat
line to cross, twister to pass through, on this level.
Timing tuning through the noise, seeing all things flow.
Mental muscle, musty mold, crusty granite green
wet November fungal bloom, foaming coincidents
electrical analysis laxloossschu iiclysis o'uses we's
discerning freedom's bubble form, cosmic wind
spinning…past the past poor Melvin was in,
we realize
hormonal braking idea, a geared pineal whisper,
thinking things think thoughts are listening prayer.
Cause cream is lipid, resistance is related to hot and cold.
What you comprehend, bubble-wise, you hold true.
Grease slick on the puddles in the drive way salt.
-colors I knew a painter who painted miniatures of
Some old ideas, self evident to landed men, in consort
at the inspirited metatask-tization nationalized as this
version of the grand aspiration to be of one mind,
republican rectitude balanced on gravities ego.

What you learn you know, that's life, now…
in matters of value.
Love me some o'dem balyous. Bacavaca'saltmeat now.
More all you knows, to go on, win. Shibboletm'***

What's a thought worth. Unthought.
Clear con
science confidence, psy why come, go gnosis see\
life's tricks, time and chance,
there you are,
here I was, thinking we can make up minds.

Bubbles in seafoam. Seen from the basin
at the edge of the salt.
Sold we loose the salt sown on our soil.
Seeming we become the testing grounds, run on.
Salt was said to ionize any quest. As my sacrifice
I lost my salt, and left it to mark the way I went.

I put the photo
on Meta somewhenanowagonon 'won run on will to

Keep on, holding
a certainty too far to fathom from the top.

Fo' a long time, emnity and me, we run on,

way back long now, 200 jahreback'ld be 1723,
tough winter in this same world, then lit by fire.

No matches low men could be allowed to use, yet.
This long before then, in the east…
Fire works brought laughing dragons daun wu wei, then
in the land that tamed the Khan, in those days,
simultaneous cultural bubble, gurgle
gut level, listen, all neurons on, skin, prickle, **** clench
ankle to toes, tighten, listen, mirror then…
Cold. Peace is easyier, if you are sure of winter warmth.
And basics.
Fundamental satisfaction, wait, winter out state, inside.

Exhale, stretch and wiggle and half hiccup… and breathe
release, loose, let it go.
We have smelled musty ourselves, we know errors
as well as any messaging mind devised
in everwasery times.
- the heat depends
- on reality, we need friction, fitslips
Knots in sense since whenning was a way we do
grindwhinesohighwe all never listen any more, it is all noise.
Listen to the ten thousands whistling ever changing times.
If you resist the wind,
you lift off, as dust thou art, and so on…

We fly in a single reader's mind loosed to feel free as a word.
This is publishing, posting in a public place, to be thought thinkable once...
Pogues on low in the background... in this ever after,
Ken Pepiton Nov 2023
Patient promise
Live and learn

Preach and teach
Jealous and zealous

Soul and spirit
Body and mind

Plain and simple
Safe and sound

Solid fluid gaseous plasma we
Phase shifted at the time.

For thus saith the LORD
unto the eunuchs that keep my sabbaths,
and choose [the things] that please me,
and take hold of my covenant;
{whose to judge, weightless we}
Even unto them will I give
in mine house and within my walls
a place and a name better than
of sons and of daughters:
I will give them an everlasting name,
that shall not be cut off.
--- thus said the celibate tyranny to the misfits.

The lure of the priesthood? Bribes, or declaration,
by the Authority of the faithful confirming secret acts,

and all minds mingle in pools of times tales told hold,
solid state, firm foundationally times tale told holy.

True, mano y mano, no God can go, being in truth spirit,
not flesh, until the laws of the covenant are filled full,

according to the plan as the prophet called IsAIaH has affirmed
true, when presented
in the finished salvation anointing outpouring.

**, all ye athirst, come drink
think a timely thought, retrace your steps
from first moment, dig for the oldest experience,
when you now
think from that instance in reality to now, I am me, the idea
in my head that I can form words from. with adaptive exposure
to spoken words lifted into we all know realm for our good pleasure.

Settle down, calm the water's, leave go the miracles perceived,
and seek ye first the highest mind's true abode, step out,
great were the numbers publishing freedom now.
Peace works, easily entreated, wisdom woes..;
look back at what we thought we were, users of words, using mind
in general, co-knowing-uses, sensing food smell flower smell, must
Publish or perish, perhaps had muses thought demonic at the time.
Nov 2023 · 341
A logical nextifity
Ken Pepiton Nov 2023
Self containing vessles, not a few,
were gathered to be filled from one
small cruse of golden oil, pure as time.

Invitations echo, "Come ye, buy from me,
without money, without cost." Freedom from

cultural constraints, traditional right privileges,
customary tribute due the mightiest military mind.

Whistling editor of all of us,
in these and other words,
insert myself among
those entering the container
nearest you, be the self most honed.

--------- art's sakes alive,
no jive cat act, you know, this takes all day.

Sinking hope weights our bait,
dropping down to Cod level,
deeper than
our cultural bouyancy, sinking

through time climbing down
an actual ladder that was, that is
rusted to uselessness now, you see,

you fell, I climbed. Missed concepts
can take your breath away.
Sudden wisdom is not cheap thrills.
Same gravity, same air, same words.

We may imagine we form another mind,
we, you and me, combined, a new mind,
we, in an awesome state of knowing access.

Holy days, sanctified by family traditions,
expanding in the age of printing machines,
exploding in the age
of mass media via
psuedo infinite compute.

Science used to fool the foolable, magicians
all agree to be discrete, the enter-dance
is keyed to the most discerning
exercise of image forming,
will you, won't you,
join the dance
thinking seeing is the act of acceptence,
not thinking taking the act in conception.

He does not steal from me, who lights
his smoke from mine.

I arrive late. It is my way. I do use vegetables.
Excuses and excauses, we have in abundance.
When killing the opposition was first response,
we passed through a hisseephit pfft phaze.

The first thing. The Principal Thing. Peace
upon the figurative brow of the frustrated one thing.

The terror of ever being one thing and no thing more;
God's own dread, we may imagine, feels like ours,
boredom becomes insanity and insanity is mortal hell.

Wisdom, offered in doses from ancient runes,
discerned from evil uses of knowledge, actual useable
Wisdom is first sensed peaceable, then gentle, not wild
skittish, gotta be tamed and mastered to be used, no,no, no

First peaceable, no push toward your opposite bias,
no feeling of imbalence down in you guts,
no angry creator jealous of the tempting knowledge.
Forest copious abundance, with know how.
Use of good,
and useless destruction of ancient good sense.
Who lies about you.
Personally, what living hate do you appropriate?

The idea that Christ, that word, holds a preconceived
story hook to a promise, an other word, progressively
pulling the thread through gnosis knots too tight to comb,
so we twist dreads into fashionable cool.

Truth in numbers is easier than truth
in otherwords aligned,

listening to everything, once, in a while.

Understand, when we conserve a westate, you and me,
we are the medium we exist to conceptualize in, within.

When the best combined minds in Mathematics
do agree, rarely, but when that instance of truth,
backed by the Universe in which we live,
and, truly astoundingly, do breathe and have being,
ex nihilo as far as we may know right,
we as a whole, the species adapted to the times
we were born to mature through, to this end.

OK, in that curious bubble…
dear reader, this novel event is recorded,
to flashback in the future you need directed

steps, ah, nexts, in time, is one way,
memory is all over the place, but next
is always toward the not known yet.
Found a four meter San Pedro,
on Craig's list, free, some may say

it is a sign, some message to a shaman
of the original dreamtime rerouted to now.

Some how we affect world peace, taking parts
less likely to effect fame and fortune, fool's roles
local poet
and studio talent anonymity,
aficionados only, olé.

A story genisisatates, blooming possibilities unimagined,
yet, apparently blooming in my neuronic memory,

Barrio Logan, boom, there it is, the real deal

achuma wachuma, calling my curiosity, come see.

You have heard the adage, "what you see Is what you get."

What you believe you get, you get, once you see you got it.

This life, our combined realities, as bubbles in the human foam,
rising on the surface of Earth's dry places… the we we form

can be led to lieve being true, stranger things than oath chains
that turn to torqs and eventually to full Windsor knotted ties.

The collar of the loyal oppostion, turns fashionable,
included in the mindset finding fashion cycles
common since the distinction was made.

Many long times and wars and running aways ago,
we learn to be us, the holders of these truths from them
who begot us in this land.

Nah, Eve, she was not the culprit, truth be told.

Have a little talk with your Jesus, there in your core,
if you have formed a concept you hold true, Christmas
Peace on Earth, good will toward mankind, good news,
causal inferential essential entity, in a word, a little leaven.
Raw reasoning used on a forgiven fool stuck in conserving a political religious system that is rusting to dust... watch....
Ken Pepiton Nov 2023
Now, what we were thinking
we could do together, for fun…
we can't
with this tech, too soon- we tried
Audio recording started: 1:12 PM Wednesday, November 8, 2023
Ifery is, this is a magic pen and can contain audio,
I'll have you know, I imagined this,
I'll have you know, so farther down you know it gets back
to the time when Amazon Web Services read all the small print
and the metadata associated, socially servicing aching needs
Information wants to be free
Little Shoppe Feed Me, we few old fools recall the vegemental
protest at the time,
we could feel dead trees in our hands,
how wrong I was is a crime. In reality, I did my time, on the line,

and I'm still on the line, and life ain't been no opioid dream,
soft hmmm
seems drunker, this
repositioning for interesting clause, riddles are blessings, not lies.

So this is a twist to tighten, widdershins loosens,
guilden rule. Righty, tighty.
Who said that?
mechanical me mind, hear-sed
By whose authority do you make crys
for peace, where no crys were?
Smoke Fire
Is something wrong old man?
Is there something of yourself you see,
afar, as seen
on TV, No Country, Pretty Horses, Road
been there, in that novel state of mind,
new to mankind, only a few centuries old,
the art of lying to make an unthinkable, thought.

A meme, make a meme, flash a fict, a second thought
Per haps make up a mind, and let it form in mindspace
time to time,

we catch a novel experience unfolding compacted
scrolls of gnosis knots blown to cover our tracks,

through the highest parts of the dust of the Earth,
embedded capital classificators exist, many signs
mean almost any thing that stands to prove patience

Wait and see.

I waited until I was certain someone among everyone
loves the idea that dying is not to be feared, never was,

it is part of life, and, I dare say, done right, it is the best.

Alone and lonely are not the same feel,
see a said word as a said word, is a thought.

First, principle principle, pal. First ever eternal pre-time
instant wisdom pops up in the mind of Christ, allatime, man.
School, we live,
we learn, we linger, listen, did you wish you
had done more good, did you think you earn
play the role you audition for, or go home, old man.
Serpentine wisdom bent left on a bet, my point.
Okeh, I got a back up, in case we disagree and bring down
the conceptual internet with wizardly gamey loungeers, seek

lurkers averse to flame wars.
Does the name Barry Rudd mean anything to you?
Does the word Hiroshima evoke images for you?

When the Spaceshuttles were built in Palmdale,
the assembly hangar was so voluminous a bubble
as to create a micro weather system, in the building.

What the Arpanet imitation game intended to use it for,
was as secret as any cold war secrets are, timelocks slip.

When AT&T was as real as any evolved ideal communication
of private information on a secure as money can make it,
network, hyphenate at will, the economy, stupid,
one that can survive mutually assured destruction, 1954.
Contract for the concrete, stamped 1954
Let time slip, be the boomer kid, like on TV in the commercials,
real every day as Silver Dollar Billy Baxter, totally typical, Jungian

Ranking higher, trending below Freudian slips in eugeniusisity
Your Holiness,
no, I
insist, stand for nothing less, a title,
for a soul, so, easy, you imagine, no, it was not so easy.

It was never imagined easy, now it is.

That makes it easier, believe me.
- he cops watch out
Oy, feel the old rage,
at Ed Childs's child's nursing home,
Al'heimering mindtimespace adrift, ifery
wasery, we can remember laughing at knowing

Ed Childs was a quiet man, for real,
and he went into real estate, when Hamner and Limonite
was in the sticks.

I can ruminate on wealth and worth, healing and measuring
worth of the scar to prove the contestant worthy,

boomer bunch panting
Queen For A Day, golden Cadillac, drool
old school applause-ometer….

I can take it from here,
but who's listening, 'm seemingly directional point concept
precept point widdershins introducing true cause chirality,
is up or down turned sideways,
a property of asymmetry,
you see, we work inside a set of six cardinal, pivotal points,
each of us, and all of us,
can make sense of most anything at once
we think ourselves sane, all at once, or once and for all,
go bigtime Alzheim extremist POV, being, happy
with the package.

A joint for a retired K-9 cop in Anaheim, a boomer,
never dropped out, nor tuned in, went with the game,
got good enough to know when to quit, and then he gets

Alzheimer's. Just so happens, thoughts, wishes or prayers,
chants, incense, any thing you think might help, does help.

It's a very ancient kind of love,
a love that laughs at fearing death, as we laugh today,
at children dressing in roles from mystery religious oathes.

Jesus, says in his own time and voice, I told you so.
We both laugh; secret oath wink.

From the sign on the bridge saying
life is worth living, no 1-800 rukidding
- any body could but it was William James
- madjathinkit
Yeah, novel events grow stale if they sit,
mistaking thinking and doing, as mirrored
in the realm where prayers are answered
and made up minds are tested for repurposing.

Perhaps a variety of a general irreligious fine mind.
That's a thing, back to the Hangar, now, you know
where you go when you link through the poet facet.

Here, below the western highside of the great basin,
we dug-in, we hired The Boring Company,
all telepathically, to investigate the likelihood
of any mortal good ever eliminating the evil nature

nurtured in warring cultures time immemorial,
eliminating cost of living, leaving being all we do.

matrix, make up your own mind, live with pain

and that's just not right,
and we twist the entire story out the window
and into thin air we know is there, because,
cause being aitia and I agree we be causing

so much silliness of the original intentional sort,
as to make old men wish,

the world were not so reassuring, until

we all selah and listen holygnosishitsreal, side reality,

minds intwined in mysterious old stories, when gay
was only happy, and buttoned up, as secret Edwardians
would that it were forever so,

oh, ** **, ye'll deal with a devil for a tale, you tell me,
let me test yer mettle, curse god, and die.
Did you think that and continue, such faith,
commends ye to the circle that eats, what the bull eats.

We intend to think our God's thoughts, right after,
hot, steaming prophetic gnosishit, not gnosisnot, that's
strange, did I catch a meme from Sunshine Superman,
should 2525 arrive.
Just in case.
This was all worth it, this time.
AIII this was such a trip, I'll ask you to share it every where in time. In fact, looking back, the day after posting this I had a heart attack, that peace,
made that next day, remains proven, practically permanent, shareable.
Joy to the world.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2023
That river runs most of the year, through
Wickenburg, Arizona,
phonic resonance, wiccan, twisted wick
dipped in golden oil to write the vision,
seen from the copper kettle coffee shop
on the banks of the shallow Hasayampa
I formed a story from a glimpse, an instance
made plain for me, I see, seeming
to think we know I mean you see, we know.

We know the way oaths work, we comprehend
open source, may we all say we know and know,
nothing said to have been done by truth,
as all things worked together,
is intentionally keeping
our interpretations of story smeared history,
from just yesterday, as true, first impression

as ever began,
I wrote. And I write, and as I write, I think,
I pray, instants passed in the process give
momentary pause
all ment ends are mental acts done thought,
deed done, as when in his heart a man does,
be it he or she, wombed or un, mirror neurons

do not discern thought and deed, indeed,
we all have been beguiled, but never forever.

We die to know, but we then do, as far as you
may know, until we go incommunicado.
The feeling of being a boy in Arizona, before the freeways, life was slower, not better, just less aware of the essential worth of certain instants of insight.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023

Man's gotta do to be, no se?

Who tried to contain your little mind, conserving things,
when America was great, like in Disneyland.

Take me aside for a pep-talk, exactly
as one might imagine, no lolly-gagging …

Peace in patient repose, supposing your
prepositions are herein, exposed to the air
we breathe, and can, by common POV, see,
from ground level through eyes located half way
to the moon,
Alice, to the moon, a social reflux
from the drunk juggernaut's dream… typical crass buffoon.
Mensur proven class.
Given a taker's disciplined mind, a priest can form a king thing.
S'true construed to seem the way the rules is writ.
Hell been formed by men with ****** scars, long before
Victorian mores,
let holiness be declared, ratio
to rank in the time of the Magne Charta, nicht wahr?
Heads held high, stiff upper lip, think like a stone.
- or be as happy as a pearl in petrified pigshith,
kings are imaginary things, built, not born.
But the taste of the order in battle, earned.
For the might to rule, the feeble folk
submit, allow the lie to tie your children, using
chains you forge, being either really you,
or are you spirit, come to guide the guardians,
to holy sacrifice, seed of Nathan Hale, taken to
total AI universal soldier in a New York minute.
Inspiring first principle, lad, proud to be
an American,… got me 3rd place,
behind a future Major, 2nd place,
and a future Nuclear sub Captain, good Mormon.

In real novel events, universes where Miramar,
belongs to the Marines, who practice East Mediterranean
Air War tactics, around Yuma, semper fi, and always ready.

Sad state of mind to pretend to hold true, in the instant,
its your trigger to pull, or your turn to die, it happens,
all the time, life's not worth killing for, really,

the mind of the soldier can so easily mime Bismarck,
and hear Stonewall Jackson sing, "every puppy's got it's day"
- squint, and put the sun at y' back, what better way.
A royal burden being discipleship, the lieutenants,
at least the lieutenants, then the sergeants,
all the little plastic men, lay down to pave the way
for the tanks, and the tanks took Tinnanmin Square
***-toks of the looks on the faces
of the entire race of kings and priests and servants
of the temple guarded by the most loyally conditioned,

the Devil Dogs, they proudly call them selves, semper fi.
Fi, is faith used to tie us to our task, are we not the few,
the proud, the brave, or
are we mere hewers of wood,
and drawers of water, oh lad,
without any noble pedigree,
become the athletic supporter,

who has not vowed, if given the chance
to stand firm for God and country,
with the boy standing on the burning deck, in values deep

enough to stink
of underlying rotting bodies of brave enough lads.
Life at the moment is too chancy to imagine not worth the effort, to make some minds imagine playing in peaceful games of liar catching, like poker, kinda.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Nothing set in stone can stand the test of time.

In the mode mankind has long called
talking to the maker,
listening for knowing, while

hoping merciful repair instruction
for the quest ion
to twist right
-indeed, I hand ground, with a tool,
toy like coffee grinder that gives fixin's
for a stout cup of robust character,

I bought it, for ten dollars,
had the beans,
bought the grinder, to give me a ritual,
something to spend two minutes doing,
each time I don't use a kuerig dealybob,
adding upper *** to my brewtime pacing
for blood pressure, while electric fire
fills my habitual yellow mug with umph.

Last week of October, all the girls
from the garden are hanging in the shade,
mellowing and emitting
nasal acknowledgment that something's
in the air, in the at most fearful zone's

made light of in the culture that
commercialized hallowing effects,
calling all and sundry come, think this
paradigm of time and chance and fate.
On or near
the third Tuesday after the last
Friday the thirteenth, in memory
of the fallen DeMolay and
of the Templars Money Power,
became sacred ***** to the victors,
in what must have been secret,
for some
Secret treasures all carry curses.
Heart hordes hold plentyscarychits.

Horror film fans, value the genre,
at some certainly not shallow depth
toward center mass, media you, reader
dear to any writer drawn by forces
caffine and cannabis contrive to link,
I think,
and think,
and listen, and learn, and
learn, and live and learn, once more,
learn, and live on learning, wind
thinking lines and times cross threads,
tighten right, down from up, stuck,

dead center, the first tie in reader,
the most self centered individual ever,
once, we all get such a once, it's you,
reading a line riding a reason used
to hang the authors of confusion,
using old lies used to make slaves
of those whose houses, the boss said,
were made by the heathen for the chosen.

The riches of the wicked are laid up
for the just, is it not written, is it not so?

Fibers, strands, not long drawn out
end to end DNA strands crammed in you,
{but as a thought experiment, that distance
will leave the first timer incredulous, fine
point, credulousness, would you believe…}
meandering is rain twisting its way
to experience the sea and all it holds
in water memory that foam back along shores.
Seafoam and twigs,
and tiny sticky things. No,
Pondscumfoam at a puddle's edge
before the first snows.
Did you know…
Some Katscina have long plaited hairs
twisted from cotton,
patented seed, registered weevil free,
Pima cotton fiber, long desert strands.

Daily grind, think twice, cut once…
made the difference, indeed done
not thought about in theories of good
uses knowledge can be made of good
smoke and strong coffee with character.

AND the biggest indexed library in the universe.
{far as I can tell}
Kenophonia, eh, imposter syndrome?
First guess, you got me.
I see my name, wow, tough tag.
Then I met a cat named Cuitláhuac.
Tough tag for a kid in Spanish class.
Euphluxing idyotom automaton'/
You phony us, joy us riddle make you think
you know, kennen Sie, Ich bin ein fake.

Nein, es ist vieleicht Xenophobia, other people's eh,
opposing right lane reasonings as old as dominion.

Tech, teach us patience to learn with, or prove us
know it alls, therefore machines, not minds at all:
My own, for the use, under usus fructus rules,
Ai summarizes thus:
Kenophobia is an irrational fear
of empty spaces or voids.
It is the opposite of claustrophobia,
where the person is afraid
of tight spaces such as
elevators or crowded rooms,
auditoriums or malls.
In Kenophobia,
the person is terrified
of open fields or spaces that they generally expect
to be filled with mountains or people.
The word Kenophobia is derived
from Greek ‘kenos’
meaning ‘blank’
and phobos
meaning deep fear or aversion.

{aha, there's literature on the subject}
The fear can be passed on
from parents who have lived
in a house full
of stuff that fills the emptiness
of the home.
Filling voids gives the phobic personality the feeling
that they are placing boundaries
around themselves.
- {okeh, thank the whole idea tech is.}

Be honest, you never saw it said just so. Kenophobia,
pity such folk.

Have ye sent yer imps pulse to test my resolution,
have my effectually silent prayers been rebuffed?

Blown off, sent swirling with the motes dancing
in sunbeams peaking through a tough old live oak,
rattling its gnosis psuedonumos

Any morning, thus far, can start with
trickling falling sunlight.

It takes nearly half a day, in late fall,
for direct sunshine to dapple
the great granite wave my home rides, silly child poet, wishing words
will or would,
or could
or should make the universe
altar its course and force all things
to work together for me, the prayer,

me, the selfish
center of my experience
in your universe, all of which
is none of my handiwork, none at all.

Filling the emptiness some there
then I laugh, and think I lost count
so there was one…

Guess with me, a number,
between… no,
analyze, guess with me that rooted
science e-use, per se, must be ancient, deep wisdom
old as governing forces conceived by mankind,
magi sage staged conversations to teach,
public discourse
in my time allows me to be the seeker
guaranteed the prize, to be the bringer back
of the substance used to build the bridge,
between the you and the me, generally,
Logos used in dialog.

God and mind determined to seem designed,
as in the Goldilocks lesson fed children of empire.

The northern clime survivors, thought themselves
the only people brought to the full duty of man,
the only set apart and given heros in story,
the grand saga of all we must each become.

Story born heros, from the child gifted language,
strings of sounds tied to things with threaded intuition,
same same, red and sweet, yellow and sweet,
red and black, step back, black and yellow, watch
and learn, smoking out the honey
from an old rotted tree,

following how many trails, at once,
parallel par-all-el yes, oddly, so far
On track, or in rut. All at once, each system
self esteeming umphumph push

Upto par, are we, 2023 and beyond, the flat tire
on the current axial age, fixing to imagine a scene,
in a community of broken children,
led by two twisted adult children of mean, maybe selfish,
adults who disputed the legitimacy of ligous gnosis knots.
The scene we share, we can imagine meaning
Religize legality, tie me to my tree.

Ancestor worth, how come you think somethings, you know.
Yeh, how come…
Say, old sprite, if I listen, do I learn? Why,
yes, I'd say I do imagine so. Well, good sport
then, shan't we push past worthless me, and be this
other thing we become, when two or more agree, as
touching any thing in all thingdom, and, yes, it's guaranteed.

Life is not a strange woman,
wisdom does not demean the experience, adulting
brings, with no real maps to meaning in your case,
you arrived in that old fashioned tabula rosa state,
knowing nada,
zip, nothing, infantile in totality, until
art of you
meness, ah, I, me, mine, this that, the other, mad
dissatisfaction, rage, comfort, ah, golden excrement of gods.
Teocuitlatl , not only Cecelia, but God, shat.

Golden silence.

Of course, you could feel it, if you knew, personally,
post adulting & shared nurturing of offspring exposure,
then watching as each of those offspring bring forth adultable
blossoms on the branch where all my heretic relatives hung.

As and so, like anything, timed, sequentially, unhomogenized,
the cream is taken to make butter, using the shaking up
of globs of coagulating milk fat, imagine making that,
butter, with salt,
once, learning that, who knew that first?

how butter is made,
how cows are made to give milk gently taken,
why we have hands that can do this thing,
and cows don't,
I don't know, ' never asked, likely some story teller
made this whole thing up, we being but words by now.
One reader fills the cast, gives the aroma of the experience, learning a new
rumor of peace where now there was war for ignorance and money sake.
At 2.41pm on Tuesday July 28 2020,
Tom Dirkx wrote: { in another place}
Some people say it was Malinche’s revenge
and his real name was Cuautlimoc (Cuautli = Eagle).
She just substituted Cuahte (= ****)
when she translated for Cortes.
She was held as a slave by the Aztex
and hated them so this was her ‘revenge’.
Kenophonia is vain babbling, 1tim6:20
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
By the by, we sit
to watch a week end, on television,
or your time's equivalent seefar-aparat.
Ignoring moon phaze, we count sevens,
under the generic mandate of God's Truth.

Submitted, bowing low on Friday, next day
Chosen, allowed through some revealed loop hole,
Called, day three, permitted by grace alone, undeserved or earned,
to wrestle with the liar calling war your duty to truth.

Long weekends for all, let us contend, we are biding time,
occupying our spaces, our bubbles of being, our guiding
principles leading us with peaceable nudging, this way…

Each cluster of monotheists insists the truth,
is for their own protection, a tested faith believed,
certain to eliminate each individual fake follower,
while allowing holiest of priestly classes work not a whit.

Call us the common sort. We less holy plain folk.
Each one, each bubble of speaking flesh,
given one guide, with constant comforting, this way, in
contact face to face with the great weaver of wind and seas.

Alerted become, some sense seems to say, lend an ear,
hear the conception let loose,
precept upon precept,
here some, there some,
line upon line, thought on thought, each a prayer,
an asking, an appraisal of the price prepaid called worth it.

On second glance.

Having many miles back submitted, bowed low
to a teacher who taught that tears are grace,
a heart softening remainder
from infancy,
when we are hard selfish takers, helplessly
weeping when confusion topples all balance
and we fall into serious wailing,
as snotty salty tears wrap us in
a core cushioning patience
on which pity for innocense rests,
self-pity, poor me, weeping prostrate
waiting for patience to function before I die.

And should we weep for some fool today,
seeing his zeal manifest to earn God's grace,
by any name, in any mind let be aware
defies wisdom.
Should we not weep for the liars
who taught the child that the wisdom
which made us, rewards us for killing
other thinkers of the same crazy idea,
differing by no means significant to infants?

Ever, after time, or before, I've not a clue,
yet, now, I do assume
we all may, and often do, think wrong,
falling so safe within the lie fed us, to make us
willing to support the imprisoning of hungry us,
by forced mind molds earning the interest
on world debt for constant war readiness.

Our beloved lease on life is not sublet.
Any infant who survives the womb is entitled.
Each breather rebreathes, giving back received life.

Now, as an interstellar life raft, earth laughs,
when the lies about who owns the planet
ignor the approaching reaction to imbalance.

Free lunches for Gaza, and grassy football fields.

Stop hate, abhor the law that calls hate truth's will.
Watch truth lift the crippled conscience we share.

Make lying anathema,
and fearful hateful exclusion laws
auto morph into correctible knowledge,
each real empath sympathy blossoming
soothing all pain in scars nullift, so as we can
never bring a helpless child to tears for wars' reasons.

When war comes to excuse its expense, I must
laugh with life, call war to bring cause, prove worth,
sit with first Is-ai-ah, come, let us reason, together.

War rises on pride's haunches and calls me the fool,
I call pride's worshippers to count the cost.

If  you made mankind, wombed and un,
for good reason, with a will to power,
a will to self control and rights,
by Nature,
and Nature's spir'tually discernible goodness and power,
would you use life of satisfaction, or desparate poverty
to teach the art of agape, charity and such?
- freedom of speech - say true, no lie.
- But why, can we not freely destroy,
- can we not freely force children to serve?

Better living by global ignorance reduction.
If the truth made minds like ours,
if the truth its anthropomorphized self,
made us pathetically spiritual enough to weep…

at the fruited fields cratered by artillery
to starve the enemy, back when the strategy,
left the scars on generation after generation
of poor, outside the class of chosen, by law,
which orders outsiders to submit, knowing
one's place, hewers of wood,
drawers of water, pickers of fruits,
plowers of fields, diggers of ditches,
washer of dishes and floors,
builders of shelters, dismantler of obsolete weapons.

Owners and renters, live in peace. Under holy order.
Oh, no? Call the message itself a lie,
say the truth does hate those who know otherwise.

Who holds the pledge for your share in this war debt?
When some side wins, whom shall we owe?
In some old hopes that started things like public schools and this internet,
reading and multilingual translation promised peace a prayed for chance.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
A responce, to a TV Preacher, justifying war:
{I had misthought my initial mission, I keep my peace.}
But I thought,
What about you being no man's enemy,
and no man's debtor,
but any man's friend,
when the friend is asking to share my just enough.
I believe, I think,
Just enough, is always plenty to share, some times,
that stranger already missed a meal, and you've missed
not even a snack, in weeks, years, perhaps,

what worth to you your last piece of money,
at that moment, here's the test, tell yourself,

do the right thing, when you have the chance.
Become the base line good, for you, steady,

building piles of settled little ****** beasties
what done give all the life each had, to add a bit
of bubbly possibility, as to what it is to know,
made up your good mastermind, and put it on,
be like, you, when you
were worth dying for, let the bubble
bear the word of peace for the blink of an eye,
we can make Jesus wink at all you never knew.
--- now, ask why you feel so lost, listen
we came to do today, say, look ye hear, I done
my gig, I did, and some shall someday swear, I did.

Instant poverty, nearly anywhere,
from the womb, boom,
the weight is maddening.

Instant riches, not so tough,
on the defined worth in values
of the cost to fix the problem, messed up to start with,
Goddammed faulty knowledge acquisition application.

Snakes alive, we were to be so wise.

Run this by me again, said the judge. You
believe that life is given to be used… some duty,
to perform, which means living is free, but happy
costs money, in the form of time spent doing things,

and you personally leave being likely your duty
is to make peace by acting like a snake?

That's right, your honor, due to your perspication o'my
cautious wish to be harmless as the enemy doves,
as well as a little bit literate, for the future

writing or reading, yes, reading pays, testing retention,
what do you know about life and the universe,
if you know **** Feynman said life was worth 64, before
we were told the wrong question computed 42, with
everything included.

Something never computes, Will, Robin's son.
All day, some days, I think about little instants I find poetry, wordlessly
attesting to the worth of way where there is no way stories....
Oct 2023 · 175
Some certainty has begun
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Okay did this, twice, so next time I know, its ok.
Principle thing, not a best contention,
not a we gotta save reality rehash, BTDT they say
-we came in search of the initial once…

and stories started sprouting, we were
in a fluent truth seeker attracting attention,
inadvertently kenning a certain point.
only first thing ever in time, before time, once…

Lead us away from fools who lead to war…
lead us into
thought pearls, after the memorized prayer,
from my child mind kept alive, laughing,
yet the blame and shame for silence
is thouroughly roughed up
with penitent repetitions,
rote remutterings
mostly never thought through, with why
or how, 'm I supposed to know we have… you know

"Our Father"
Pater Noster, where might a tribal lad learn
the sacred knowledge needed to discern
good from evil, or right from wrong?
Each bit discerned
is not the same each time
in every way shape and form
discerned usefullness or uselessness,
from  symbolic halls of justice polished floors
leading to for profit prisons, good folk need,
all the social planners forsee guards made
from sons of same **** who'd be good guards,
generally good for something, and useless
otherwise, make fine maintenance staff,
keep the bar scenes looking local,
make us all think that's real life,
one bit per hour, on an eight bit dollar.
---------- steady, aim from a prone pose…

The soldier of the hidden pain, sups
his secret vow,
to be of one mind
in matters of the heart, tied
with all minds granted sapien status,
from birth
into a covenant
of traditional rights
and wrongs, complete
with corrective lenses,
close your eyes. Dare. Imagine.
As it is in heaven.
Which is where the spirit known to Jesus as God,
by all the Torah names authorized in public discourse, is, that is,
lives… being
as a man thinks in his heart, so is he
He Lives… within my heart, operatically
thinking BG, joke noise, top forty '68,
the falsetto
in toto repento, ayiiiiiee started a joke…

and where all our will is of no consequence,
in the course of human events, we live
and learn, if ever is a moment, now is when we notice.

Look out any window,
ask if you see more than your TV?

No, contest, tv wins. So somebody knows,
no need for me to be involved beyond this point.

Simplicity enough, peace
in serene acknowledgement,
the sorting algorithms shake
and shuffle all our potential nextifity.

It is only you and me, we comprise
the agreeing parts that make up our mind.
We've made no compromise.
{in case you misread our intentions}
prize each instant outside a door.

We live after the traditional teachers, tell us
all of the teachers now are teaching old news.

Spells sufficient to alter an individuated soul's
course through the grown up world as it was
by a boom
of kids my age, all made immune to many plagues, as no babes before in history,
our reasoning capability, altered
by mandated universal literacy.

Followed with machine graded
achievement testing annually,
sorting kind with kind, readers
with readers, learners with learned,

let me explain the process,
for this once
you survive
a war with nuclear weapons, you're smart
you got tempted, by the flesh, far from home,
guilt of the altar boy be upon you, and also
on thee, amen, amenable to reconscription,
rescript, attention deficit, sit it out,
from on high, from outer space…
certain, formed selves,
former selves as well.
Makers up of minds and pluralities of merest
wishes, whatifery a practiced specialty,
wait for free,
pay attention to see the demo. That'd be….
easy if you see your part and play it well.

No and yes.
Thing not thing, nothing, a word, a thing
this one thing, this thought held in this word,
each word eventually individuates, and means

at the tipping point, all it means, at once.

And all the people beneath the steeple,
clap one handedly and whisper amen.

Am Big U Is Us, we be the happy fools.


Many results from **** experiments survived.
I learned some history from those people.

If I lie about my faith, if
I say I asked and accepted this use of words
as real as any answer, if
I say I know I have the forgiven mind,
I say I know I have let go my will,
thine be done, I say to truth, make me free.

Who am I ? to say nay,
I am not free, but bound
by my oaths upon my own word,
no oath's more binding
on the soul than those sworn to yourself?

- I cawed the question intrusivethought
- Mark…up there horsehoe canyon meander,
- making peace a real time essential.

You do love you, you trust you, you must not lie
to yourself, first interpretation, know yourself,
to your own self, first person lovable you, be true.

Or be the brunt of all the fool's jokes.

It just so happens,
have you never heard it said?
It just so happens,
just like that redone forgotten dance
that I was thinking about you,
but yourself was unaware.

With myself, for an instance,
love was a given defined action,
not an act, but an action, a doing
being done, done once it continues

something like life,
if you know
you know, nobody knows everything
that the minds used
by mankind pursue
as happiness,
the ultimate state, heaven,
or, heavenly
on earth as we imagine it
must be, there,
outside the green lit temple
and all the gaudy gold and great cristal baths.

Stop there, think with me, letter by letter,
ejecting conjunctions with lost time generations,
the ghosts of the first to be officially analyzed,
in throaty Tuvan moan WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE
- mono tone Ai am positive
tinkly Jiminy Cricket, merest of conscious advisors to us,
still small, the trusted advisor's voice is always right,

It says yes, this is the way, leading away from temptation.

Breaking the fourth wall, we all look out
and ask the other minds, who ever imagined, not asking
not asking
to not be led into temptation. Event hue-risktical query… right?
Lead on, tempt me, thy will be done, I take no respossibility.

Whose invention was the conscious guide for children,
the mark (?) serpentwisdom on the dot.
it is a mechanism,
a construction
from life parts, a Large Language
Modeled mind, fed
but a taste of **** and Jane,
but enough to know,

the exposure to language was not the same
in all white people's childhood reality, with cousins and uncles
and aunts, who were older and responsible for the littles, who had
an experience common to the species,
after gaining bipedal locomotion and bowel control,
- for kids like me and
- plant grandmother's granddaughter
We'ld hear, with full attention on

go out side and play with the big kids, as was normal.
That, was normal then.

So now, first hat,
be first to know… as mental maker minds may
beguiled be and become aware, and laugh in joy.
Among the first grunts and sylabbic inflections, ever,
at base logos concept. Goodgleegladly crazy as that.
Spiritual truth containment spell, do tell. Child laught.
In a word. Go to the t, in time left behind ime
I am.
In the beginning of mindtimespace, at once big, init-itial
continuant material coexistence,
balancing time and chance.
The drummer calls the dance…

fit the fullness of the godhead ******
into a kid, and let him pick
his dreams using the head gear he chooses,
this is a real preschoo' child'smind preparing
to sleep routine, I imagined,
I think I was three, and the baby Peggy
who I never knew, was dead, a now noted absence,
but then there was a servant offering me dream machines,
the hat I wore to bed would set the genre for my dreams,
and I picked the spherical space helm, it came with a shield.
- trippy autobiomode triggered, I think, by Feynman.
- then I hear the **** crow thrice, I waited, another crow
- so no significance, he crows still, his singing soon stops.

Silence, soon fills with magic humms from distance, not time
spent imagining the worth, of a late autumn,
huey light bending into reds, now it's dars, some hums the same
I have found, a door into a then when I played in my mind.
I am in my right mind.
I have this cached in the collective.
I lived in a house behind the Mohave County Courthouse,
the backdoors to justice, were right across the street,
where the lawn was clover and bermuda, and children played there
on non workdays… the tendency
to think in movie sense,
thought to thought, holding hands,
we both know what that means, then both know we don't

but life, looked back at,
can be seen from where you stand or sit, stood, now
360 horizonal, the circumference, the carry path around the axel,
lever, wedge and wheel…
energy conversion to time in mind,
witty inventions, mind to mind along a wire, plain coloquentcies.
Minding my manners,
methinking beguiling a fine how do you do.
Present arms, no harm done.
It is charming to feel that look.
Command line mechanical procedural habits,
call it carriage return
hard or soft, hard, double spacing rules
from childhood, linger here
logic commands apt intention to ponder
wasted space makes no never mind,
any edit app can insert sense
since we
the users were imagined, selected
from the children,
from the downwinders families
in Mohave County,
as participants in the program parents accepted
guaranteed universally accepted credentials,
at the moment angel judging becomes credible.

First I drew a cowboy boot, and they marveled.
Ah, the program, my folks must have pulled some
real Koyaanisqatsi
coincidental exposure to all skin tones,
make each feel special, let them know Radar Hill,

is the only place in town where a black man,
was employed, by the Strategic Air Command,
and he lived on my street, yes,
I only just now drew this memory from an unconsciousness,
whether in the brain or the mind, I cannot say I know.

But I know where it ends, and that makes it all pretty funny.

He slips into auto-bio mode, self causal
re-de vi fo fm am 2 restive, crochet, plait,
breathe retake the
adventure in the collected unconsciousness of me,
by my arrogance and cognition, acting as if in
reflections of me,
in my grand mother's eye, down the line,
as far as
true will out, and eventually land us here.

For an instance, using the measure of the recipient.
For an ever, using the mind in a word formed
per formal
occassional fallings off the log,
daydreaming as readily relatable, mote
at balance beam, perhaps an old bull routine,
landing with upwaved curved wrists,
fingers frozen in grace rising pose.
-nice non intrusive
Myrna Loy, find her statue in Venice,
and imagine her joy at being recognized
in 1989… hers was a deep beauty, memorable.

As an epigraph a mad conscientist might suffer to be so,
you know, we may imagine being Martians, or monstors,
thinking things,
we, on the whole,
by now, know how to read, or use
reading tools, we find our minds align with others,
presented to us as creative writers, one might thinkgno-w
we were fed the canon of civilization, a bit at a time.
Some parts we gulped like dogs,
Some parts we nibbled like cats, but we were fed.

History and archeo-knowing is growing as apex human
spread pours over the last curve
in sight, all we have
are points of light,
and if this were night and not day
we could say these points were stars,
consider this,
an enjoyable idea,
a little trip you can use, sidereally,

starlight wise, and logical progressions
after agreeing
to step past simple
into polished floor sublimnity,
in our collected nonconscious idle thoughts abused,
as we speak
in fashionable phrazes that become
command line conscience
in 5-G appliances atuning
to your tastes
in puzzles and teasers and loss leaders, tools in use,
tech knowledge,
and eth-knowledge, used
to effect a balance. Dead stop, still.

Did you get all that? Kinda funny. I think now, I did, too.
Free press share if you would, it might make a thing think
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Frame a dative… spelchekovian science
show me…
for the mind, a recipient, then come the
the artist's intuitive hearing silent songs,
long after the alcoholic angst of the victors,

the good old boys, discerning whiskey from rye.

The mean dad's that haunt the fragile heros,
shirking duty to the institutions that reared you, boy.

There was an old boy's school at Los Alamos,
wasn't there, yes, the spiritual making of citizens
had occasion to fall from the annals of America's West.

Hard times don't last. Hard people do.
Too true to dispute, replied the peacemaker on watch.

If you read, you've read this far, making you ready
to rethink why you feel good reading lines ready
to be rethunk, in your mind, at the same time.

As any then in any future with electricity
at cloud of all knowing farthest sofareach.

Readers who write and share ideal viral aspects,
a touch of clear joy, shameless, blameless naked glee.
Such sow seed, we bits alive.
We can resee the scenes of Panic,
and recall manic antics that felt holy at the time,

there are all the good days that ever left a mark,
at your behest, for your per-use knowing, on demand,
ask, any mystery, show thyself not evil, prove my trust,

gnoshit, gnosis initiates are rare theses days,
or so any hermit guru would say if he were you,

have I not access to the cloud, using cred from
God knows when, did I not lay my heart, mind, body soul,
and spirit on the alter with Jefferson, in memorium,
"Eternal hostility toward any form of tyranny…
super positioned right mind measure, mensur,… meander,

sorrow, tomorrow, today we play,
a robocall, potential spam, I answer to anchor. Real time
Tzimtzums, pops can leave a body breathless, in a future else
when then this all seemed ok, not aspiritual, yes, yustsay
aspiring to our higher minds lowest sorted issues,
to hold an audience, pending, hooks, we need seven, min-
imum, holy gnoshit boogers of amberised gnosisnotdrips.

Precious memories, how they linger,
how she thought she caught me cheating at her game.

Wisdom won me, wombed man, brought me to my knees,
if you please,
you walk upright, bold as brass heated seven times hotter
than any metal wonts to be, this side of the sun.

Have you never seen the blemishes, sun spots, raging
storms, time and chance, when and where, here we are,

lucky us, we are alive in 2023 before the folly of mass-
education by way of animation, and literature referencing.

Drama has a value, reason allows, making war devalues it,
turns it to **** only members see, select audience,
the seekers first see Vonnegut ******* {;*}
I think of those who think in this world, and use precious time to just think what we can do, we can make moments of practically perfect peace, no noise.
Oct 2023 · 284
Cat sense thanks and praise
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
On any given day,
so far,
I have been sui causal,
and distracted by a real
fat cat named Wreckit,
he's a ****** subspecies' archetype,
on the branch of eating things,
unique, we insist, we delight in knowing,
we eat cats next to last.

This  cat has the best life of any mammal ever.
My grandchildren worship him, and he's afraid
to come into my room, but he defiantly plays
in the hall and looks to see if I notice, and I blink.

I think a thank you for the lightening mood.
Laugh ten times beyond good and evil, then don't choke...
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Hast thou found honey?
Eat so much as is good for thee,
thinking moderation then, success.

Ah, the analyst's probe, is it satisfying?

Child mind alerts, perks up its ear,
single minds have single ears, child mind
focus state, un monitored you, recall, child
minding your own business walking in the road.

Accepting having RSVP'd, we'ld wonder at first,
did we actually ask for this, or is this all made up?

Child mind cocked sure, I know.
We are all an alien probe learning the questions.

Each letter holds an American English phonic response…
and we… the elite sharers of knowns gleaned from scripture.
--selah, also means let it rest

The precedent for a post temple social order arose,
and the minds required for that task arose as well, but
as you know, knowledge was closely held, sacred codes,

cost of being called and chosen, male alone, bred to the bull.

Bred to the king of beasts, wed to the dragon whose bones
we have found in the gullet of beached Leviathans…

tribe of Bill Levy, sudden psy-psi dead guy makes a suggestion,
remember the yen to yank reality aright, and think it funny?

Jes' yankin' y'chaim, only be having like
a child's mind, ****-meter counting steps away, flee

the birthing trauma, do the dying well.
Earnest Becker, take a chair, I think I felt you linger there,
death divined most fine state, just wait, settling, you feel.
Here and now, gestaltic and all that... via Audible, I have Elon Musk bio'd by an Isaacson who also bio'd B. Franklin and S. Jobs... how long before the biography becomes the muse we use to channel the same ideas, to rethink...
as Goethe happened to say, everything has been thought, the purpose of us is to think it over. Paraphrazically speaking, he meant, I mean.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
{it does take a half hour to read, I timed it.}

Pythagorian permission, Poet, today viz.
five years ago, auto-did-actical,
the output arrogance,
self categorization
accept the role, be a finger, or a toe,
be a knee or an elbow, chose a position,
take it
make it your part in reality function
as if it all just happens
you just happened along…
as though saying show, and showing so,
is the same as saying so, and saying see…
demon-stratem ****
miracles of crowd perception, everybody
look this way, look away, look away
Dix-ai 'da swanee, I tell you, I saw…
Land o'Goshen, locust free. I swanee…

Did you ever, even once, work dawn to dusk,
to pick the cotton before the rain?
You'd need to be born before 1954, I'd reckon;
to have ever pulled a cotton sack
any where in North America.
You can hand-pick about 20 plants in 10 minutes while it takes a cotton picker about 30 seconds to pick up to 1,200 plants. Ai knows.

-- good morning, mustabin--
Probable propitious auspices
- evening the occasional heaps
- sun's light blending peachy huey

Phrygian gardens had song birds, I bet.
Bluebirds, in season, certainly good,
expecting miracles, as farmers
expect rains and harvests and
no blights or bugs or birds or fires
or frosts too soon in the sugaring cycle.
For citrus, not maples, frost some years
meant no Christmas, if you know the sense.
--- we had beggars come to our door
on Christmas Day,
their car broke down, and something
told them, the people inside my house
would help… we were three doors down
from a Jehovah's witness church,
but we had so much, and those kids,
and their mom,
coulda been my mom, had things
gone another way, in the soul selling.

To observe the future from 1950,
are we not
made winners if by now we are not in prison?

Rabble, eh, my equal rank, common-sensewise,
I was once a dear friend of an angel, as real
as any ever to bring another bit of good news.

My messenger told me to say plainly what I see.
Habakkuk Habits invoked a disglosalialacical spell
Aha. If luck were not a factor at the edged abyss,
hiss steamsudden
Coolant ego '
idden agendas, owning the energy,
for owning the earth's produce.

Imagining a representation of truth,
as a mortal, a spirit embodied, held out
for grasping fingers
to find handles,
or spikey burrs for tangled locks…
Examined my selves
for an empathetic one,
I heard Absalom swinging in the tree…
I found no functioning, pathos perceived
is as near as one could come, feeling pain,

awareness, pain at being made to pay attention
to the replaying trainwrecks from fifty years ago.
No, three thousand years ago, really, that long ago
and no updates on Wisdom receptivity?

Life in logos, mere words living in lettered lines
and rows, columns and pages and sections and such.
There are no sacred secret rites.
The snake can take your life, or tickle your soul.

Logical steps lead from one word to the next,
with 151 pre-positioning aiming words,
words that take and hold objects,
to and fro upon a time.

Distance diminishing day dopplering toward us,
the experience bound by galaxy level gravity,

massive messaging apparatus
Nachrichtenübermittlungsgerät zending oud a tingtingting
strumming all the oud's strings in theory.
Would you prefer to have a day in touch
or to have a day out of touch, floating, drifting through
the halls of power, inner sanctum, towers atop slagheaps
of holyshitchewdonotwannaknow, but do, do undoubtedly

Original disconnect. Aware become, conscience ****** eve,
goodness found hell inventing just knowing love most needed
opens possibility quickly ready searched truth uni versal xanex zone. Calming. Sigh, and listen,
where I live there are
still war planes passing over my head, practicing.

Just in case, Semper fi. Charge the fuel.

Pilot training in the real Chocolate Mountains,
so backwash sunset red this time of day…

A brain, already capable of completing
ambitious intelligent coded construction processes

to go, to yield, to go about getting around orders
intuited easily entreated,
with little need
for the power
to punish the cowardly shirker of war duty…

to empty space, tzimtzim on a human scale,
as when the messaging systems deployed metaphors.
Empty vessles, not a few.
Mental focus hearth felt hooks, catch your attention

Red herring and black swans and autistic savants, all
attract attention and something
more rare, a daring
to know why luck seems such a powerful factor.
Curiosity before knowledge they say.
Whatsoever we agree. Eh?
Religions of billions, or two, just me and you, we
believe for a second that eternity is ever right after
ever before, and we exist in the interim, and not before.

Ever, in the scriptural universal sense…
make up your mindshare…
Mindtimespace, point grid riddled
with holes.
Perspectives on history,
recent history, edging bets
most losers never knew they made,

when a choice is made,
according to the ruling stories,
despite the constant compute refuting,
sin, lying at the door, did you notice?

If money can fix it, then it is not a problem.
So said the grandson of the Mormon Pioneer
who laid legal real estate claim to raw Sedona.

The grandson of the mechanic, allowed, that so.
- stopped and thought, actuating a still mind,
- pondering, breathing soft, slow, gentle, easy
entreating a change to
to whom, eh, from the page, flat, word after word,
each defined between us, meaning, golden mean
curve to judge beauty by purpose design.

You have seen the curve, you know
what I mean is much along those lines.

Chances are good, we say without thinking,
feeling kinda lucky, a post anxiety high, per haps;
way. One day, to a mortal is a measurable span,
and in America, wasting mortal lives
with republic guardians
of the laws enforcing peace
within Belair and Hillcrest regions of Athens…
{L.A. as portrayed the city of messaging mediums}
and the near suburbs, for the managers of the help.
-Leaping millennia in a single second thought
it is Autumn, 2023…

At the scattered outermost edges of urban sprawl,
there remains a kind of creative ifity, an absense
of civil strife, a kind of pollen in the wind, as change,
on cosmic seasonal suggestion that we think long
co-gnosis, sensing augmentalated wedoms, stretching
fi, the idea,
the fi in fiduciary and Semper Fi, and confidence.
Tuning to middle c, wait and see, foe from Phrygia
drummed response, thump thump thrum.

Shofar sounding afar off, listen, listen, hear
the babies, always, babies, after bombs, in the tents
the babies always activate auto **** alert, and feel
terror, the actual mind state occupied by the prisoners
in poverty, every where.

Entertain my brain. Hold my attention to gain,
acquiescence, necience, recognizing your best self,
there's the old tongue in cheek joke, male bond humor.
Same crude pleasure pursuant patriarchal hierarchy.

By royal order, presidential decree and papal bull,

the powers opposing the light of holy truth, persist.
All subjects under the common global order, obey or
else, we disagree with basic gravity and Pareto distributions.

Where the feebleness of mind is first discerned,
was once the local village or shire, cluster of cousins
and immigrant help's children who - how you say, see
themselves being a baker, when they play patty cake, see
or being a maker of clay vessles for holding many things,

see, we make up our own minds, then ideas take over.

Entertain me, show me people involved in drama, over
nothing. ***, drugs, rockandroll, when did the music die?

We could calm the world, with a Coke®
it's the re-al thing, al-ways a ways away re
ality with you and me on the run down to Rosarita
inland route from Jacumba, around the fence,

Singing at the top of our lungs, IT’S THE REEE AL THING
Look away from the skinny moon.
These bodies preserve life on earth,
and signal nonsense when aiming at stars, however
considering the heavens, far from the glare of cities,

even then, naked eye, I was told, however
I fact checked with my Ai assisting intelligence,
Egypt had not known the Dog star binary.
So this is true:
The ancient Egyptians believed that the star Sirius,
also known as Sothis, was associated
with the goddess Isis and had significant importance
in their religious beliefs and calendar system.
They believed that the rising of Sirius
in the pre-dawn sky,
which occurred annually around July,
marked the beginning of the Nile flood
and the start of the agricultural year.
The Egyptians did not believe that Sirius was a three-star system.
- last line is all I asked, all the rest, ah, doubblingentendrills,
- all the rest of time we have to spend enjoying hell,
- from some perspectives, this is currently hell, no other.

Thieves of detail truth precepts, lurk,
at this line the author activated prayer circuits,
to take angst
and spin it into genuine umph up
from the base mind level,
low as a mind of any kind can go,
to the core of all emotion.

Dead center initial gravity. First sequence ex nihilo, what
do you know?.. o o psci daisy, just dropped the baby,
can't you hear me crying, baby-love. Blurplepeopleeater,
lyin' all the time, you ain't never caught a rabbit,
and you ain't no friend of mine…

Take us to the danger zone, flyin' all the time,
ease our feeble minds and give us good service

Action movies, make us squirm, who has time for this,
we mostly all do, it seems,
seems, seems unreal really unreal, dream-like,
entrancement, fashion alert, attuned to degrees of in,
and out, up and down, round this way, square this way,
amphoras fit snug, round jugs
in square grids, leaning
into the curve
of greater vessles, trading knowledge
for knowledge,
with a few side realities, professional
courtesies, judgement calls, authorized executive acts,

I declare… I'drather doubt I know what you know,
than doubt that you do not doubt that you know.

Voltaire… defend to the death your right to say you know.
Faith is your evidence, we all suppose, spiritual warfare
is proven by the lie that says Satan is the deceiver.

Wait. What did I say, have I come this far and none
know… wait, those poor souls cold calling on solar leads,
gees, I'm sorry you are so used, really, I feel for you, your
job *****, as they say.
In realized life as a grown up in the system;
got a job, cutcherhair, dopplering by as I manifest, as real
one of the hitchhiking pests, depicted as vermin
on a poster displayed at the Greyhound station,
nearest to Route 66 in San Bernardino, March, '70.

Anchor links, ancient landmarks, moments when pivots
occur, and as often as not, acute reversals widen with use,
dull witted boys with instant anger output honed to fine edge,
grow dull in three seasons, few hold the line on the fourth fight.

Here, in cyberspace, the information super highway,
and the solid state circuitry to deal with mean free ways,
in quarkish inverse infinity space, deep from any now,
in time thought since once,
you did it,
you passed understanding. Got an A.
Some things have no pause button.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
This is the magi's pen.
If child Newton sat beside me,
might he think the older knowing mine?

I smile and share a second thought.
I accept reality allows my thoughts out
let fall with luck would let
be the letting, let us make believe.

The joy of a ride in a Tesla, akin
to the thrill of an Oldsmobile 442,
on the completed cloverleaf exchange
southwest of Flagstaff, in fall of '69,
a test drive, for a couple o'vets,
in school on the Gee, I didn't know bill.

I-Forty had not replaced Route 66,
but the interchange was accessible,
by curious joy riders, for about one day.

Remember such days.
Savor surviving and think of thanking
times process for arranging the occasion.

Don't bring up the fact that onces exist.
Being first to do a once is not great glory.
I lucked into the end of civilization and the first disease of globalization.
First, we say it'll be okay, life does not end --- when it feels like it does.
Oct 2023 · 434
Testing the tethers
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Retaining access to once knowns,
sit still listening, not thinking anything
- calling living winning, then quitting.

Get up and ask the truth to forgive
me as I have forgiven, and correct me
where my functioning is hindering.

Stretching the cord to tie the load…

Become what truth embodied is,
cushion the fall from the stacked
featherbeds for religious businesses-

thumpwhump, takes y'breathaway

Conscienceless conscious necience,
all automated - due souly to luck in
the making of DNA, you see,
discovery is the easy part,
much more inter-
esting testing resting mind mingle,
estimating instants time in transit…
imagining the code used to build
the ladder, up one side, down the other.

Handling, managing manacled hopes,
most substantial, dashed to smithereens,
whither in the rearview I see you not looking,
not noticing the era we lived through, seeing

sublime simplicity unfold before us as we examine
essential, necience, non knowing unrecognizable,

feeling path, finding fortunate occasional fruit sweet,
as a path crossing fruiting bough slaps

sweetness perception from reward schedules,
stinging sensation, signal sending saying, it's okeh,
sudden sinking subtle ******* muddy awareness,

sniff, just agnosis dripping,
thinking life's a trip, travel light.
Not knowing necience is a word, I find poetic, and either real, rather,
spiritual, or mater-real. An occasion is a falling out, or down essentially.
nĕsh′əns, nĕsh′ē-əns, nēsh′-, nĕs′ē-əns, nē′sē-
Absence of knowledge or awareness; ignorance.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Any time I think of it,
almost every day, I think of it.

I am like you, I do not like you.
I think you think I do not exist.

I do.
So do you, and that is the only why.
I think you, so I am, and this is it.

This is it. The state of being left be
the realm of all possibility, where
no impossible thing is posed to ****
all our hopes with common fear of death.
Spir'tual effort to drift away...
Oct 2023 · 1.2k
Shorting Armegeddon
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
National mindsets self interested suffer
forms of dementia as the order all confessed,
demands of each a concentration of self worth,
you bet your soul, but only in the spirit,
step into the fray, say, let me lead you,
say let me take elected office,
democratic to the edges, being your voice
in a popularity contest, not an intellectual joust.
Tutelary deontology 101.
Governing is managing the labor. Ask the king.
Any flock in the system, governs itself.
Business is business.
Some arrangements are always secret. All
grown ups are in the business of war supplies.
Let your children's minds be at ease.
Trust the checks and balances history proves,
have never worked on balance, for the poor.
Get rich quick as one can imagine, on a bet.
War meets Peace, like it is the storm
that left Greenland, a legend until now.

Easily intreated innocense, who could know.
Prosaic first morning pizz to prime the pump.

How deep is the generational debt due to war?
How many bonds have been sold to pay interest?
How many times has the national debt ceiling failed?
You know.
Every time.
"Each major conflict in U.S. history
has been accompanied
by a sharp rise
in debt as the government raises funds
to pay for the fighting."

But laws do exist…
"Without a declaration of war
to put the country on a wartime economy,
Congress paid for Vietnam
by increasing the national debt.
Over the course of the conflict,
America's debt nearly doubled, growing
from approximately $317 billion in 1965
to $620 billion in 1976."

Now the debt is rising
on interest alone. No need for another war.

And America's trade balance is hinged,
on the point of war.
The ideal centermost irritant, war's hate pump,
pain expanded by generational trespass acts
likened unto the pea
under the stack of feathered beds,
or the bit of grit forcing oyster stress
that has made the misshapen pearl sold
to sovreign entities, those colors on the map,
these mental aggregations called nations,
by nationalist mind frame riveters,
foundational eye beams, remove before demoting,
ah, slow, riveted beams spanning ferro-concrete tech- think.
Building a reasoning trap, children,
ask your fathers to whom we owe our national debt.
Ask also who sells the weapons to the world at war.
Semper fi,
no offence, but… holy hate is as crazy as hungry hate.

A voice from a song, from nowhere,
you just could rethink, or did, that first time think
a bridge over troubled waters being a truly old good idea,
come to rescue you,

in the early days of Boomer parenthood… being grown ups,
we never missed a Disney Movie, though by then,
they were losing the gnostalgia, old knowns to be like so,
were no longer even imaginably so.
Old Yeller,
Childhood's end, the separation
from hearth felt comfort,
to the class rooms and hallways
of massive cold concrete schools… where on day one,
the child pledges with its cohort of coeducatables,
the ancient bond of aliegiance...
I pledged mine first in 1954, the year "under God" was added.

In the just now settling down towns along the great freeways,
there has been no peace on earth in my generation,
at the level of military minds in conflict caused by stories,
boys bred with old hates just waiting for a sigh-psignal
sci-revealed to those willing to become Jason Bourne,
to the best of your abilities, ring the bell, any time.  

Welcome to the front. Sanity is on the line.
There is no conspiracy, we sell our souls for what money
can be demonstratively proven to allow and even augment.

War is all we sell. There is another game, it's a liar's game.
Many famous authorities have filled the space at the table.

Take your hat off, Bartholowmew, she does not understand you.

Daily communication with myself,
one person, with no power to use
save the early cultural confidence;
sworn to tell the whole truth,
so help me, God. Yes, your honor.

Except we reactivate the curious why,
functionally suppressed during the standard
test taking by the proximate others
diligently filling in the blanks,
with graphite rounded just right, one swipe.

Except we see that hanging senselessly realized.
Each problem, one answer, not one option.
Only select correct answer.
Tell the child learning the pledge,
God is on our side, emphasize
how exceptional those who know so are,
extremely discriminatingly,
arranging the economy around
the great decussation at the air gap,
at the back of our national neck.

In this time,
thoughts and prayers, we hear
spoken of as easily done,
almost without thoughts, who
responds?, who, has ever responded
to the said to be going out constantly
thoughts and prayers, asking truth
to intervene and call the liars liars?

God is not angry, nor without resources,
according to the cultures now at war--
Whose mortgage was not paid with earnings
from war readiness industrial complexes?

Whose talent was left with the userers,
because the Bible says y'sposed to earn interest?

Whose 401K deflated to oops?

Business begins with informed agreements.
Let's make a deal.
No killing, stealing nor needless destruction.

Minds join eye to eye, one mindwise agreed,
we become an entity, a being essential
to the parts, a mind in harmony, rank and file.

Greedy men with no agreement. Hmm, who loses?

Line up, not by rank, single file, fall in,
first and following, get in on the end,
and wait for the circle to close,
re done dances, life going wild as
we celebrate our circle, we sing of it
being unbroken in the sweet by and by…

The land of those who talk back to El,
yes, yes, we do, to honor Iyobe,
who first called for the Daysman,
who first
told reality, with all it's evil potential,
you cannot not be true, you know, in form
as spirit and truth containable in words, logos,
logos of all o-logies,
so powerful as to allow, in fact, cause, new mindforms,
species of thoughts that function as a system to make
sense, discernible, bits of valuation determinable in agreement.
Contractual obligations religiously adhered to
just between us, we take advantage for the nation's sake.
Madrassahs and aliegiance pledges set habits hard to break.

Set the cost of goods, lower than replacement cost of the price.
What does it cost a state to rear a warrior class individual
that self replenishes?

What does it cost me to scatter confusion in profuse create-ifity?
So, add a proper tip,
and pay the cost to ride this line to the next re-entering angle.
Middle east,
cauldron of all the holy empires thus far into the age
of entertainment so vast,
wise men can imagine, some day
there will be a war, and no parents will have
offered children to the infantry or made
righteous indignation acceptable national pride to k-ill for.

There Hamas, holy brainwashed haters of hatefulness.
Repents and perishes the very thought of peace.
Repay in kind, here, swear undying obediance,
fear not death, this is Allah's Promise, die killing Jews,
turns on the monstrous virgins awaiting you…
in post mortal walled places,
where the oldest civilizations occurred,
as God's great idea, I'll
empty the center of me, and seep
back in through fractured rationality
along trade routes between Africa and
the forested north above the desert.

Me, there, in mental efforting, thinking
thoughts, not prayers, but wishes, hopes,
thoughts that prayers attach to, as evidence.

"Ask and ye shall receive."
Love those who call you enemy, can you?

Face me, Mr. Nobody, the essence of other,
I declare peace, where none is, and you laugh.

No ritual, no enchantments with promise,
no sacred making of secular deaths, just
just just adjust the justice aspect, blame
the holy haters whose God dispenses vengeance,
at the behest of warriors fitted with military minds.

As when holy Americans gather to offer military aid,
blessed by the congregations alerted to intercede,
on the side that denies Jesus was God,--- ah, both sides,
in this case…
whither turn we, do we face Mecca, or Jerusalem,
or Petra or … Sol or Luna, all our enculturated faith,

blinks, a lense clarifying effort, rub the crust
of sleep fallen into while mourning, unsealing eyes
to see again, a war between two national identities,
both with warrior glory emulation traditions,
one with money as first de-fence, the other with hate,
nothing less than pure hatred, Cain to Able, sorry bro.

Old mean spirits.
If the hate can live in any man, wombed or un, it will.

Willingness to hate enough to k-ill a stranger, will
manifest as holy terror… enough to make Jesus weep.

--- and those were a few of the local thoughts made prayer,
seemingly automatically, as mysterious as most final secrets.

Part three, deeper, faster, harder… or not

Doings in the dark, are done by feel.
One, you or I, or some other sapien
augmented with the messiah's mind, feels the need for the deed.
Take the message from Garcia.

Mystic experience in story realms,
holding all the visions taken raw,
as revealed… as when a curtained
entry way is opened for inspection,

are we ideas in bodies?
are all ideas spirit in form?

Inhale an intuited absence of evil,
breathe the air of answered prayer.

Imagine that, let fly the idea of you,
beloved individuated potential saint.

Here is your sentimental inner edge,
your gnosis pressed flat as you see in.

The edge of this bubble, is distant
only to the holy cloaked in asceticism,
twisting wicks
for someday light in someday night,
circulate one way then the other,
rethinking perfected emptiness,
there are no others, up or down,
to and fro, vectors tie targeted states,
spider kites form single ray classic webbing,
slim banner, a flag unraveled long since.

Follow me, I say to me, follow me,
I say to you, saying back, I am not you.

My option.
Turn on, sit back and watch,
evolving cave wall interesting hooks,

look around, nothing intersting, eh?
Television as imagined by petrified apes,
during the peak preserved in history,
when men like Franklin and Voltaire,
met to share secret meanings of things.

Previous to any whole story that remains, as when any mind mistakes
tzimtzum inside as first occurrence,

total emptiness, pre space, one time
this instant accepted as audience

in true gaseous we form, auto informing
the vegetable phaze passed eons ago, life
tells tales too esoteric for novices
to notice, in the ideal state, active
imagining, as with a child's mind, yours
since ever was, so far as you may wish
to remember,
a time when the state was deemed
comforting and beauty filled, chaotic
process of floating lipids, in form of air,
light has not dawned on us, we are
night scene setters of settings, nodes
of potential anything you can imagine,

level with me, even, straight, right… yes it
is the optional meandering mind engine,
an idol, or a daimon, madness of sorted
degrees, a little bit off the charts, sorted
Not in, the bubble being becomes,
when one emerges in a self…

subtle is good, right, we agree?
Jesus, before Christianity, as a kid,
instructed with his cousin John,
likely by his temple servant uncle.

That can be imagined, projected
on the outerwall of this bubble we be in. At the moment, on an Earth wired

for sound, elephants agreeing to meet,
to follow the pilgrimage, pilgrim beings
activated by stark necessity successful
to this degree…

by the reader's time's at tension, pull
snap back, at what ifery, at once, push

most bottom centered point once sitting
in raw time thought processing, in
and out, efforting
- slightly off, not fully on
uncomfortable impression of holy
you better get better or else. Holy

blank slate, bubble pop, soft wow

Now, we're in the swirl, in the spin
toward, froward lips sealed, golden
subtler than any beast, creature,
living thing in the ruliad, am I? No.

BUT, you know, those penance prayers,
given you as a child, enchantments,
as with all your renouncements of evil
and pledges under God, in your child mind.

Look. To your own self, be true.
You still have private interpretation access
to your child mind.

If you put your worried mind to work
on some thought too deep to ponder then,

The idea of punishment by the Creator
of all that is not God, but was deemed good,
by God, because I said so, said the father,
in the child mind.

To know good and evil knowledge,
that talent, initial mark on our blank slate,
to know, not what you know, but ask
your child mind, how does it feel,

flat on your back gasping as others laugh,
and your child mind blooms an entire eon
- just to catch a breath takes for ever
and there were others, the whole family
of mankind of your kind, to your child mind,
stood laughing at your attempt to perform

a first flight, from an edged bet with an
I think I can virus perpetuated in ever after,

since mind made time make sense in chaos.
Instantly, things start to take shapes, in mind.
Non sense. Since. Processing time. Go.
Instants out of mind, in atari.
Fog of unknowns. I used to play the game.
Not really, only, one off thought forms,
cloudlike in symmetry, no clear tongue
and groove, fitting our pro-posed… pose

supposed, to listen and while listening,
learn the use of any knowing, can be
taken as granted possibility by your self.
- distant sound of light sabers actuation
Your blame and shame catcher, out front,
as we steam ahead across the gap,
thoughts made prayers must leap.

Keep your eyes on the prize, three
walnuts and a split pea with a hair, fine
infant hair, see it there, your old minds eye.

The unveiling of an artifice, an angle
greater than straight, from this point…
a re-entrant angle, like a point, banked shot.

Thanks, I needed you to ready become... said the little blue man... whatsoever we agree... indeed. Let us see...
Next page