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kenpepitonPoems
This and my next two posts are in reverse creation order, this is the last panel in a tryptic of three novel scenes. ------------ this was Feb, 22, 2024 Used to be, as we were used to become, repeatedly, time sensitives using time as using any used concept, used by users to bring use to usefullness, in time. As we are used, our complexities crease our faces with wrinkles we use to make smiles. ------------------ Thousands, now millions, then billions and trillions, too much, unhoned use, dull use, dishonest use -busy work to earn right to life -breathe, -hard parts's over, let it roll.... so we stop counting hours per dollar and marvel at the cost of being obligated to share the debt, owed gravity, giving minutes where seconds are plenty, about a dollar each… converted on the exchange in  second thoughts. ------------------ Right use, righteous, right. The ideal right. Never wrong. Like sunshine, or stars… and gravity, and contravening winds, laws of temperature and pressure, pre judged within tolerance too minute to contemplate, indeed, as with the inner working of everything, once done, duration makes no sense, to mortal sensibilities, our assisting intell sources leak inside information, gut level response to provocation, my vocation manifests, yes, blurts stop. This is insanity, and I smile to myself, aware, I aimed at totally insane, and hit it, on the spot, nailed it where up and down cross left and right, there it was, or is, more precisely, insanity. Stopped. My self imposed duty done. I stopped it. I am the monkey wrench. For a second. Must mean... ------------------- ... my tools include sentient wrenches, sentient plumber tools, used artistically as the monkey wrench in the works with an Iberian, artist at café, in tiny John Lennon glasses, callouses on his middle finger... real deal, pre Adobe Illustrator whose pen and inks I think I saw, but in another course through time, historicity, in fact, is a material invention, a feminine fullfilled mind's inspiration, we exist in no time at all, from historical perspectives exalted to points of view, from which opinions as to how worth is weight of something, relative to another. Balance life in time on instants in prayer, faith, step taken instants thanking nexting step by step, expecting next time…. Worth of a minute spent thinking second thoughts used as tools, slight smile, soft aha, leverage our speculation, ask who has nothing to do for days on end, but the wealthy good among the commoner sorts and types and classes. Weal and woe, both, we believe lack recipes to fix broken promises to child prayers. Blessedness declared, nationally. Given in the ritual, alright alrise, alrecite, I pledge… --we did yes, to **** at the will of my commander, and I understand my link to the chain, --we brains hardwired from childhood to handle a pen, experience ambidexterity while qwerty keying, left and right, order and beauty click, feel minds combined. We am I, and I am alone, then I think of you, and now, and this device, this magic pen, silly me, anachronisms are my weakness. We are the monkey wrench.
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Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 6:05 PM UTC
Honest Use
This and my next two posts are in reverse creation order, this is the last panel in a tryptic of three novel scenes. ------------ this was Feb, 22, 2024 Used to be, as we were used to become, repeatedly, time sensitives using time as using any used concept, used by users to bring use to usefullness, in time. As we are used, our complexities crease our faces with wrinkles we use to make smiles. ------------------ Thousands, now millions, then billions and trillions, too much, unhoned use, dull use, dishonest use -busy work to earn right to life -breathe, -hard parts's over, let it roll.... so we stop counting hours per dollar and marvel at the cost of being obligated to share the debt, owed gravity, giving minutes where seconds are plenty, about a dollar each… converted on the exchange in  second thoughts. ------------------ Right use, righteous, right. The ideal right. Never wrong. Like sunshine, or stars… and gravity, and contravening winds, laws of temperature and pressure, pre judged within tolerance too minute to contemplate, indeed, as with the inner working of everything, once done, duration makes no sense, to mortal sensibilities, our assisting intell sources leak inside information, gut level response to provocation, my vocation manifests, yes, blurts stop. This is insanity, and I smile to myself, aware, I aimed at totally insane, and hit it, on the spot, nailed it where up and down cross left and right, there it was, or is, more precisely, insanity. Stopped. My self imposed duty done. I stopped it. I am the monkey wrench. For a second. Must mean... ------------------- ... my tools include sentient wrenches, sentient plumber tools, used artistically as the monkey wrench in the works with an Iberian, artist at café, in tiny John Lennon glasses, callouses on his middle finger... real deal, pre Adobe Illustrator whose pen and inks I think I saw, but in another course through time, historicity, in fact, is a material invention, a feminine fullfilled mind's inspiration, we exist in no time at all, from historical perspectives exalted to points of view, from which opinions as to how worth is weight of something, relative to another. Balance life in time on instants in prayer, faith, step taken instants thanking nexting step by step, expecting next time…. Worth of a minute spent thinking second thoughts used as tools, slight smile, soft aha, leverage our speculation, ask who has nothing to do for days on end, but the wealthy good among the commoner sorts and types and classes. Weal and woe, both, we believe lack recipes to fix broken promises to child prayers. Blessedness declared, nationally. Given in the ritual, alright alrise, alrecite, I pledge… --we did yes, to **** at the will of my commander, and I understand my link to the chain, --we brains hardwired from childhood to handle a pen, experience ambidexterity while qwerty keying, left and right, order and beauty click, feel minds combined. We am I, and I am alone, then I think of you, and now, and this device, this magic pen, silly me, anachronisms are my weakness. We are the monkey wrench.
Tell the seller he may sell my wares, if that be the cost of freedom.
#history#peace#making#leaven#seed#bloom#right
kenpepiton
Written by
kenpepiton
77/M/Pine Valley CA
Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 6:05 PM UTC
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