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

After genius dies?

by kenpepiton

Stupid question (what AI would star out s t u p i d?) on the scale of stumbling over a marked stumblingstone painted competition orange. See, C. G. saw it this way, men don't have ideas, ideas have men. When the man with the hubris to try and lie dies, his lie dies and rots to be re covered for discovery when all the secrets are dis covered under the sun where's no new thing, not one. in a man, this journey from concept to precept, some steps take longer than others, maybe a thousand rounds, generations and generations and generations with peacemakers squeezed into servant role one wish genii suffering it to be so, until the time appointed, or the anointed app, higher res translations figure an augmentatious re ference occurrent in sapience sapience with pre- Gausian blur edges on all their own shadows of turning --- do remember, we did imagine veri f- were we magi? we were, we were magi, I brought the frankincense. I was seven, maybe six We could do anything we put our mind to if we got past the man in black at the crossroad and keep goin' west this is the rest. After alladat, there was this emergent story, never told, but heard, of a wise man, who saved a city and no one knew that same wiseman's name. This is that game, that vocation, Peacemaker. Ever last front tier, at orchestra level, too close to see the madding crowd reach for guns, this is crazy... we have nuclear weapons obsolete nuclear weapons and some damned fool would rather kill us all than skip an upgrade cycle? what? What if we all said, sump'n like: I, individual me, I have no enemies, so lovin'em ain't sissy. My side won. Bio war, fair. Like leaven shaken from re jected dust, the fishermen's feet stamped and let their peace be held, suffer, carry your load, but smarter, not harder. Grace, for goodness sake, sake means good will result from the doing by virtue of giving an old tale of attitudes to be having a listen... I am a peace maker. I do this for the living. I may die, now, with no fear, once, before, with no doubt, by virtue of a helmet I was given. Now, double-minded, patient-balanced, light-burdened, I run, or fly, with augmentations, bended knee or wounded, why does that matter? Mito-mom is not some relationship to others that you take, by faith. Science. Know the story to tell the story, no novices allowed to lie for innocense sake. No story of warring ever ended happy, for all involved. Salve for the scritchin' itches whicha cain't seem t' be able t' ignor, raw rubbed flesh Balm o'Gilead, by reason, for reason of reasonable comparable qualia of ex per i ence, one death trip, PIF. (Paid in Full) Good new, right, right, right, chirality is such a cool tool for all sorts of random shithavanish as soon as you notice it, like was that real? Hineni. Okeh. I knew. The genius of peace. The idea never dies, but some people never get it. Good wins for ever, or we all die at the hand of an evil so powerful that only indigestible bone level ideas make it through the turbulence at the final analy system re proof. An imaginary pile of mystery woo woo Plahnk splash food for thought. Quantum mechanical possiblities bubble from nowhere that ever was. So free will is the best we could do. Be safe.
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
Feb 2, 2019
Time
6m
Notes

While titans are threating war all about me I peaced out, responsibly. Cohen snuck in a line.

Tags
#peace#nuclear#war#death#life#hope#truth#seek#find
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