Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Weave we've woven a web

by kenpepiton

Weave we've woven a web... What I said, what I said, what I said we been sayin all a long Oh the futurists mythed the inter-resting-time This man fears population explosions, he is speaking in 1991, I'd built my great 100 by 75 miles ten stories building resting place where ten billion story tellers could hide and watch whaat's comin' down. By then, decades before, in the desert twixt Vegas and L.A. I asked this guy who actually wanted in my pants, I sat on the window silly V double you, did he know, I asked, no, I told him, after I had been starring at the stars for some time, this time that'ime, when I think about it, I told that guy the whole world was waiting, suffering, await'n' the frontal cortex maturation of the sons 'oGod. I said "and I'm one." Don't touch. My private calfornia became my private arizona and neo and river chose idaho, ( no, that idaho, that was a movie-story)... not part of the rite that was the legend of the clan, when we had electrix. That ride set an I'll-go-rythm of if/then/else switches to HIGH honor if-ic. If. If you can keep your head... the rest, true rest, is history. we know a voice who swore he was there when "Been there, done that" became an eternal cliche of the gods. We are participating in the future. We are thinking. --- that hapt the same night as the discovery of the perfect-ish four sided pyramid of charcoal brickets burning one at at at a time touch another to the glowing pile on the sand... (audio) ===== why are ficts so far from the facts in the matters that matter re-lig-em leg-it-am-it-all, damitalkenslowdown so re-lig me to my ide-idea, beware We seen this coming do you? This is thirty years ago we know, this we know this we we are in sanity, as insanity is the only way to packitin sane sorts of things that all must touch in order to re main sane. You know, you know. That makes lying im-possible or null-possil-be per se. Word.Righton. Trooph truckah! ToA allaway Found a calico cat of the old school sawdust variety. if you, if you see her, please de-if her re-onance, it's chipped. You can keep her, if I can say such things here and not be thought an ownery old cuss, clammering through empty lobster tails to see what the attraction may have been, Back. Then we are not off track or trail, etched acid canyon of silicon paved with godelsufferingold, by golly, I'd be live if I could see my way clear to walk such streets at the speed of light no, gravity and no, too slow, thought. ought... that's a thought not... that's a thought ought... that's a differ'nt thought, takes time... that's a thought you could spend thinking it. You get nowhere. now and then we find clusters of ideas in time, as if they buble from some spring in the headwaters of the mind we matter in Der Lesenmann, bitte, kanst do lesen? O h, dear reader, take my hand, my phantom hand, the one I never lost, tell me did you enjoy our journey, so far... Weave a ways, weave a ways to go. If this and that cross again we may hear what that preach meant to say, thaat day o'visitation, way back when. olden time. grand mals time to meditate sign-ate de-sign-ate, Dada do we know when we know, when we are two and the past is, too. Papa do you know the big bang is the answer everyone found, in the olden days when you were ten? Oh I read about that backthen, I was twelve. Weekly Reader kept my gang informed, or Me, and I told all my friends, my listeners who did not read but needed to pass the current events test. Now, we all a passin' those testes one time at atime Upon my word, begin...
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
kenpepiton
77 / M / Pine Valley CA
For You?
Written by
kenpepiton
77 / M / Pine Valley CA
Published
Aug 28, 2018
Time
5m
Notes

This sprang from a 1991 discussion about the world wide web, in which Terrence McKenna Ruper Sheldrake began to imagine the world we live in post Y2K and 9-11 and 420 and Prop 64, where are you

Tags
#poet#public#prayer#eternal#truth#grandpa#toddle
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell kenpepiton how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogSupportFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 [production] by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write