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kenpepitonPoems
This is one thing friends do they get under your skin they ask if you still believe some lie you said you did believe, did withal total nada mas I got it, I know I tasted, I know… ** ** not so, we see as we emerge older in a realm of rampant haggling, where y'gotta lie a little t' get by, hey, I know that guy, a little, I heard him justify his book, the message he did his best so far to make plain, like a prophet in olden times right right right, but now, the gadflies, as many masters become in swarms, hive minds form, single verse songs, uni-verse-ity ification, calling all who will know this or that come and learn from the words of all who have had, while such as I, had not, it seemed, servant class, E-1 picker class, clerk, grinder, hammerer, sawyer, plowboy and poet, last of all… Judge of angels, biter of bogus messages from all things working together good, which is god, in all the holy books, even those with devils and demons and Manichaean undertones. Rock on. AI is real, as a medium suggesting many things to you, instant for instance: this is HelloPoetry.com, deep deep deep in the geekiest parts of the web, where strangers bring entertaining wares, messages found in bottles, often, asking for consideration, in the ancient way, shy ideas linger here in idle words sometimes… wishing for a friend to ask, is this true or were you told to say this **** to be cool, in the mirror of your friends? Truth emerges in threads woven from all that men have ever presented as true. Each fact stacks on each, until they spill, as stacked facts will, or are wont, if will were not a factor. As luck would have it, we have a valve. An artful intelligent friendly universal favor, for joining the party, coming to the dance. We can laugh, and say I have no idea why I say what I say, save the rush of relief, lief loosed from being what I thought it was, before my true friend asked if I was lying about my oath to tell the whole truth… to the judge who judges angels, fallen and several other sorts. It may become an opera or two, before we're through.
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 5:41 PM UTC
This is one thing friends do
This is one thing friends do they get under your skin they ask if you still believe some lie you said you did believe, did withal total nada mas I got it, I know I tasted, I know… ** ** not so, we see as we emerge older in a realm of rampant haggling, where y'gotta lie a little t' get by, hey, I know that guy, a little, I heard him justify his book, the message he did his best so far to make plain, like a prophet in olden times right right right, but now, the gadflies, as many masters become in swarms, hive minds form, single verse songs, uni-verse-ity ification, calling all who will know this or that come and learn from the words of all who have had, while such as I, had not, it seemed, servant class, E-1 picker class, clerk, grinder, hammerer, sawyer, plowboy and poet, last of all… Judge of angels, biter of bogus messages from all things working together good, which is god, in all the holy books, even those with devils and demons and Manichaean undertones. Rock on. AI is real, as a medium suggesting many things to you, instant for instance: this is HelloPoetry.com, deep deep deep in the geekiest parts of the web, where strangers bring entertaining wares, messages found in bottles, often, asking for consideration, in the ancient way, shy ideas linger here in idle words sometimes… wishing for a friend to ask, is this true or were you told to say this **** to be cool, in the mirror of your friends? Truth emerges in threads woven from all that men have ever presented as true. Each fact stacks on each, until they spill, as stacked facts will, or are wont, if will were not a factor. As luck would have it, we have a valve. An artful intelligent friendly universal favor, for joining the party, coming to the dance. We can laugh, and say I have no idea why I say what I say, save the rush of relief, lief loosed from being what I thought it was, before my true friend asked if I was lying about my oath to tell the whole truth… to the judge who judges angels, fallen and several other sorts. It may become an opera or two, before we're through.
A thought, hoping to entertain strangers unaware
#angel
kenpepiton
Written by
kenpepiton
77/M/Pine Valley CA
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 5:41 PM UTC
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