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kenpepitonPoems
Details of now, surface of ever. Step, as we may, step away, on a way from to Details of now, magnified, made nearer to see, to learn. Ifery and wasery, wondered, wandered upto, but not beyond, go think that which holds the heavens, a bubble, eh, must be, edge-less, inside, so smooth, smooth as air, I dare say, air is smooth, breathed easy, calm, cold or hot, air, is smooth, this surface of mind, this is rough. Pitted, adolescent greasy fifties happy fashion engine, rewind, take us back to when Ike and **** gripped the winds of change, in signals so mysterious, we wonder if we saw, the signs saying, turn or burn, and thought, what the hell, truth is related to me, I cannot prove a lie. I can say, virtually literally, true as such can be, I can say there is no hell and we can't breathe in heaven as conceived, beyond the stars, or at least, past Mars, ah, when all the world had, say, a number, ten thousand, or so, say science, prescience, right fore thought, a story rises, from a word, that was a name, first presented to me, forethought was a god de-ifier, resistor of the bit part, seeing the whole, part seen is deception, to any who wished at then to know, only to know, edge of knowing, stood, stare, seeing we being a whole generated mind, in lines linking one thing to another, in ever after birth, before death, now, as we imagine. We think the wind a wonderous thing, the mixture of elements we breathe and have our native being in, & we have our post-natal first known, ah, breathe, air, this is the wind we wondered through momma eyes, maybe, I guessed, just guessed, instant- iate a probability, set a whatif, then else I laugh and douse the flames of cortisol, thinking you may feel this wind, next week, it meanders, and may linger in New England, delivering the requests question everything, but wait, wait, listen answers cost attention, not to mention understanding, beyond - as in through, which my kind plants as great crops to make peace with, as we burn through the opposition, like mental hot coals. Re learning to live, as once we lived when we all knew, innocently, presumptively, knew enough is always enough to share, died, and we noticed dying is easy, and that much, that extent of declared, I know dying is easy, is true, because none, once the resistance removes the lie that lingers as hell to pay, while little grey Domeanies squeeze the truth from me, a sufficiency, enough to prove my reconciliation.
0
Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 2:46 PM UTC
Dying, one breath worth
Details of now, surface of ever. Step, as we may, step away, on a way from to Details of now, magnified, made nearer to see, to learn. Ifery and wasery, wondered, wandered upto, but not beyond, go think that which holds the heavens, a bubble, eh, must be, edge-less, inside, so smooth, smooth as air, I dare say, air is smooth, breathed easy, calm, cold or hot, air, is smooth, this surface of mind, this is rough. Pitted, adolescent greasy fifties happy fashion engine, rewind, take us back to when Ike and **** gripped the winds of change, in signals so mysterious, we wonder if we saw, the signs saying, turn or burn, and thought, what the hell, truth is related to me, I cannot prove a lie. I can say, virtually literally, true as such can be, I can say there is no hell and we can't breathe in heaven as conceived, beyond the stars, or at least, past Mars, ah, when all the world had, say, a number, ten thousand, or so, say science, prescience, right fore thought, a story rises, from a word, that was a name, first presented to me, forethought was a god de-ifier, resistor of the bit part, seeing the whole, part seen is deception, to any who wished at then to know, only to know, edge of knowing, stood, stare, seeing we being a whole generated mind, in lines linking one thing to another, in ever after birth, before death, now, as we imagine. We think the wind a wonderous thing, the mixture of elements we breathe and have our native being in, & we have our post-natal first known, ah, breathe, air, this is the wind we wondered through momma eyes, maybe, I guessed, just guessed, instant- iate a probability, set a whatif, then else I laugh and douse the flames of cortisol, thinking you may feel this wind, next week, it meanders, and may linger in New England, delivering the requests question everything, but wait, wait, listen answers cost attention, not to mention understanding, beyond - as in through, which my kind plants as great crops to make peace with, as we burn through the opposition, like mental hot coals. Re learning to live, as once we lived when we all knew, innocently, presumptively, knew enough is always enough to share, died, and we noticed dying is easy, and that much, that extent of declared, I know dying is easy, is true, because none, once the resistance removes the lie that lingers as hell to pay, while little grey Domeanies squeeze the truth from me, a sufficiency, enough to prove my reconciliation.
I say, I do this because I can, and did, but you might not know, so I said so.
#fishing#502
kenpepiton
Written by
kenpepiton
77/M/Pine Valley CA
Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 2:46 PM UTC
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