Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
kenpepitonPoems
My distant uncle artie passed me nothing but the intuition that permission has been granted, there are no secrets now. The cabals and covens and encorporations, all naked now, see the love -- as you imagine love is -- that love of money is the root of all evil, so what was the seed? Where did this idea arise? Really, in you, when did some messenger convince you, if there is a hero in this story, you're it? Gotcha. Gotta play, or bet me it ain't worth my time… in the future 2020 Job 39 labour is in vain with out fear… really holy ghost roulette, I heard somebody say, - it says the ostrich has no dread - she is reek-empty lacking any fear - for she has no wisdom or understanding, yet - if she gets her dander up she can put a knight to shame. Key ** quick sought it tic We proceed, forget forgotten foregone conclusions, aims at nothing, hit it. Right on. We won. You. Your POV, who plays you, in the morning. This has been a notable day. These are those notes, some may link to bigger things, I hope they do, quick, sot, tic th'clock turnem'n't'wizened old men, musing, harmless as doves. Fool's wize, ready to roll, this is where we are at the peak, this is what Sisyphus is all about, in the end, letting go, laughing at the promised land and letting go, step-aside, bow to gravity, and laugh at mopey minded Camus fans, stirring bitter herb into the soup cosmo, cosmic, soup, primigenisis Bos, Boss, you familiar with the term, Bos? Aurochs in the imaginings of fat priests and their doped initiates, meeting mystery where wisdom led, by a thread, from the maze, from the cave, where fear itself was all you had to fear… Go ye… -O' Jonathan Edwards, did his spider sting ye, lad? - we fixt that, - we gave ye a wonder of - who spun this thread I hang by, in these - angry hands the teachers taught Jonathon - to believe, or else die and learn the truth… makes free -nope, not in hell. Hermeneutics dictate truth being known in hell is impossible, for lack of truth in hell. It was a riddle. Then it got monetized, like April Fool's Day and Purgatorial Enemas and hell, Satan as Boss. That hell is a lie, polidimensa-ionally approaching infinity, you can imagine it in ever, whenever you wish, just reme reem aurochs, wow, tripped, and bounced in Joshua Tree, slo-mo memorie sticks with me, I was pre- served, invincible at that moment, and several others, if you think about it, it would have killed you, but it didn't, you remember. Everybody knows, it coulda been me.
0
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 11:17 PM UTC
They Found His Bones in Ethiopia
My distant uncle artie passed me nothing but the intuition that permission has been granted, there are no secrets now. The cabals and covens and encorporations, all naked now, see the love -- as you imagine love is -- that love of money is the root of all evil, so what was the seed? Where did this idea arise? Really, in you, when did some messenger convince you, if there is a hero in this story, you're it? Gotcha. Gotta play, or bet me it ain't worth my time… in the future 2020 Job 39 labour is in vain with out fear… really holy ghost roulette, I heard somebody say, - it says the ostrich has no dread - she is reek-empty lacking any fear - for she has no wisdom or understanding, yet - if she gets her dander up she can put a knight to shame. Key ** quick sought it tic We proceed, forget forgotten foregone conclusions, aims at nothing, hit it. Right on. We won. You. Your POV, who plays you, in the morning. This has been a notable day. These are those notes, some may link to bigger things, I hope they do, quick, sot, tic th'clock turnem'n't'wizened old men, musing, harmless as doves. Fool's wize, ready to roll, this is where we are at the peak, this is what Sisyphus is all about, in the end, letting go, laughing at the promised land and letting go, step-aside, bow to gravity, and laugh at mopey minded Camus fans, stirring bitter herb into the soup cosmo, cosmic, soup, primigenisis Bos, Boss, you familiar with the term, Bos? Aurochs in the imaginings of fat priests and their doped initiates, meeting mystery where wisdom led, by a thread, from the maze, from the cave, where fear itself was all you had to fear… Go ye… -O' Jonathan Edwards, did his spider sting ye, lad? - we fixt that, - we gave ye a wonder of - who spun this thread I hang by, in these - angry hands the teachers taught Jonathon - to believe, or else die and learn the truth… makes free -nope, not in hell. Hermeneutics dictate truth being known in hell is impossible, for lack of truth in hell. It was a riddle. Then it got monetized, like April Fool's Day and Purgatorial Enemas and hell, Satan as Boss. That hell is a lie, polidimensa-ionally approaching infinity, you can imagine it in ever, whenever you wish, just reme reem aurochs, wow, tripped, and bounced in Joshua Tree, slo-mo memorie sticks with me, I was pre- served, invincible at that moment, and several others, if you think about it, it would have killed you, but it didn't, you remember. Everybody knows, it coulda been me.
Surviving this long has made us the latest humans. Us and our machines, our AI friends, working to uncover every secret... interesting.. uncle Ardi-- Ardi (ARA-VP-6/500) is the designation of the fossilized skeletal remains of an Ardipithecus ramidus, thought to be an early human-like female anthropoid 4.4 million years old. It is the most complete early hominid specimen, with most of the skull, teeth, pelvis, hands and feet,[1] more complete than the previously known Australopithecus afarensis specimen called "Lucy." In all, 125 different pieces of fossilized bone were found.[2]
#interesting#laugh
kenpepiton
Written by
kenpepiton
77/M/Pine Valley CA
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 11:17 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem