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Aug 2023
Let it rest.
Let us see better, saying
some say we have dues to pay,

duties to the whole human race,
race being loaded with royal faith.

Any propagation of holy order, go,

take the land that lacks any kings,
make men modeled on Donald Trump,
from boys modeled on the anti-hero,
and ---

Accept the offer of a satisfied mind, for a minute.

Poverty of being me, not obliged to any
powers of orders from God, general use,
under which, in America, pledged children stand.

Stepping beyond the ordered classes,
my generation, born into natural TV, Eureka!,
I personally watched Archimedes say it, on TV,
I was seven, and used …
-------------
Information gathering, intelligence collecting,
ever learning never knowing everything about,
ever, as a state.
Eureka!
Communists, say the word,
instant hate,
****, say it, sayit Niggerniggerniger ghuck yew.
Potential traitors, aliegiance pledge violators,
called to vote, under the laws God authorized.

Vote for fear,
vote for hope, vote for leaving me alone.

------------------ governing a self, letting any mind
be in you, being found in the gaseous we state, ever
after all's been said and done, a dozen times, or more.

The entertainment value of life.
Judging one's own experience, later than most.
Age tested…
ex agere, eh, gitgo, let it roll… therapy, in session.

Listen, Doktor, I am a good liar,
I just wish I were otherwise. That's everyman's truth.

It is written, all men are liars, not only Cretans.
Therefore, right,
knowing that, accepting that, we all naturally lie,
and if we are rewarded for the art of mimicry,

we lie until we die.

Think yourself to the source, when did the mind
on offer to the elite who hired spirited tutors,
change
to allow the untouchables
to read?
------- Freedom from unknowing why I disagree.

Over the last century, however,
Freud’s ideas have since been met
with criticism,
in part because
of his singular focus
on sexuality as the main driver
of human personality development.

https://www.quora.com/Do-you-agree-with-Freuds-theories

My AI, intuitional artistry, assisting informant, informs me,
- ego chooses to, a bit vehemently, dis-herd my hide.
Be not conformed to this world…

be not conformed
to the mileau projected as reality, you and me
being formed in, positioned
as carriers, or as carried messages, proof
of all naked mankind may bear up under imagining.

Stand and ask the chronicles. Bow and ask the spirits,
sit Zazen lotus on a goldfish pond, stride across surface tension,
examine
animated orderly symphony of
how big a show we can put on.

Splash.
Recall the age weapon, wielded unrighteously.
-- I can out time waste any young mind.
-- time acknowledged passing. So,
what
am I to do well enough to influence turbulence positively.
Make a point.

Think a cause, make up your mind, our whole mortal mechanics,
levers and weights and balances and tension holders and releasers.

Prods produce anger, and
any we we thought we were kicks it self to death, when…

- Cadmus, it is- and this then that stone thrown at
dragon's teeth, taken from Ares,
by  our selected hero,
fed early Book of Knowledge, and Britannica,
and Aesop, and Poor Richard, and all the Nursery Rhimes…
- just so right, if the least heat zone is cool.
Goldilocks.
Rapunzel, coming of age, rites of passage, understand.
Peter, the pumpkin eater, had a true Freudean problem.

Not some thing nursery children can parse.

Knowledge of the story,
holistic impression on the cultural psyche, do tell,
says the Id to the Super I.

"Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,
Had a wife but couldn’t keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her very well.
Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,
Had another and didn’t love her;
Peter learned to read and spell,
And then he loved her very well."

I'd better think myself a fine boy, for this plumb,
line upon line, steady sense of balance and
timing since, aim, edumacated
will to tell, provocative force, tensile strength stretch
of the imagination,
the imagining machinery, pull

Target audience, the attraction in us all, to hit it
the key first thing,
the corner stone.
Masonic
cultural syncretism, lying idle, conjoined heads and tales,
inspiring

preconscious, conscious, unconscious, subconscious
science - use, measure, from seventeen POVs, at once.
collect a consciousness,
form a we, me and thee.
We are perhaps the briefest form of mind,
the passing fancy, fantasy titular idea, the works

opera, machinations deploying ropes and wheels,
and crashing cymbals, Zildjians, no doubt, old ideas,

tinkling bells, and jingling bells, sounds of whips,
sounds of sails snapping, tacking,

ambitions lead us around the obstacles, land us on the sand.
------------
knowledge, expressed with confident proof,
poet's license taken as granted, this is all I offer life.
Any ant-like urge to gather for the colony, I offer this.

I disagree with Sigmund Freud, and Bishop Sheen…
and doubt we ever could have been friends, like me and

the few names I have power to recall, with a thought, like
a charged ion on a quest,

to prove the best use,
of any knack.

This is all I brought with me from my past,
I speak English and
I have a linked history through five generations.

Being amusing, and being a user of muses, are not same
in balance of Natural vs Artformed,
Art's own sake, they say, causa sui
the use of knowledge, knowing and doing, showing growing,
formations of cultural biomes,

rust dust, color of Mars, Ares, same idea,
a good god of war…

"Turn the other cheek."
Love make simple - imagine Romance Novels, all day, all night,
News as it would appear, after the generational curses
propagated at the K through 12 stage,
bear fruit on grafted limbs.

The poor you have always
with you, ye poor in heart.

Fitting war's reality, 2023
--fit, not fight
Pieces of my mind, hoping mostly not to lie, unconsciously.

Lines, floating on singularities too tiny to feel.
Forming
From our conjoined mind's past,
to our oath tied you and me agreement, I admit, I pray,

in much the way I prayed as a child,
hoping to win the lottery,
believing my mercy on the universe plea,
worked.
I can imagine news from the Daily Planet,
I can imagine pogroms looking like a zippo'd village.

Can't we all?
Is not the power of the message art offers seeing eyes,
worth the promise of redeeming shame, cash in the secrets.

The work of a prophet, use the best gift, fabricate a valid reason.
T'is today, Monday, once.

So sophomoric have we become, tomorrow never comes, we know.

Live for today, eh, seize the light, stretch it, stretch it, to the night.

Blessed. Favored above the cursed, happy having things to do, right.
Cursed. Tied to the fear of death, due to childhood trauma, Victorian
moral standards,
five moral generations ago, height of the mission to hide the theft.

History and new thought. Novelty constantly, let me,
entertain you,
let my words be the glue,

listen with a will to know,
and grow your own shelter from the storm,

become a passive unibomber, seek and destroy the glory,
iconoclasm chasm leap

of merest faith, spirit verbing lief as well, mine or thine,
whatever.

Where this is, in a construct believed in as direct objective
The Cloud of all collected knowns and their known uses.

I, ego of the entity I play, outwardly aware you are there,
thinking we think at once,
this time,
this instant, and some men of faith can sell that.
Some sit in the buzz of electrified retiremental bliss,
content. Sowing seeds of kindalikeness.

The prize of the satisfied mind… seek that first.
See what it turns into.
Letting the hope of doing good, act out.
Ken Pepiton
Written by
Ken Pepiton  76/M/Pine Valley CA
(76/M/Pine Valley CA)   
418
     Bardo, patty m and guy scutellaro
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