Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Taken, gotten, or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything…

slow
Slow think,
make real

re-al-ize
what fighting for life is…
this is the only
try,
it is not a test.

Take your time, use it wisely,
if that means anything.
Wise, I meant.
No offence, if wise is anathema to your kind,
die,
die if I knocked the reason for being right
outa you,
did you hear cognitive dissonance?
did it sound like
this. LOUD?
listen,
rolling rolling rolling
crash crumble rolled in nurse rime frosted
fables of monsters and maids
Thor, witharoar likka Lion King?

or the light brigade,
CHARGE?

thunder words from lost generations of
reasonless riddles for children,

Why did Peter Pumpkin-eater have a wife, but
couldn't keep her here?
Was that okeh? Oh, wait.
Ah, I see, I say,
they never tell that whole story any more.

Know why? They forgot it. In the war.

Duck'n'cover,no
crying, how long?
When begins forever? Did no one tell you, child?

Taken or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything
like it was nothing, given
enough pre-sure-sup
poser-power

War, as a game, has a reason.

Battle, hitting, slapping

stop touch, stop now slap
slap back

or cry
oh no no ma

waddayahsay?  A theist or atheist
who started this war?

space case, or
lover of wisdom, met on the road
to Emmaus, discussing Wiles's proof
firming Fermi's connection to the matter of fear,
3, 2, 1

Kaboom, but with a whump you feel in your teeth

1, 2, 3 Fermat's last theorem ,
easy as pi an no re me

ABC to
Michael Jackson to
Howard Bloom because he

inadvertently, began
an-ionic converstatic re-vibe time warp
meme,
which vibe, started the legendary Sixties. I was alive.
Radioman,
a sixty cycle white-noise humm heard every where these days

There was a gospel song, "Turn Your Radio On".
my theme, open the window in the top of your head,
as it were,
a new,
as new as

a novel-state of water, H three Ohs, re-al-ity ification,
Ah, a shared Oh, I remember now, how this works…

like a poem

at the edge of a water vapor bubble in a boiling body of water,
at the edge of the bubble, water becomes a wall of water,
not vapor, not flowing liquid,

but a wall, insulating the vapor in pressing opposing force
to permit, from permission,
meaning with a message same as the message,

is that the right word? per-mission-grant, is power given,
agency,
that idea….
wait for the sign….?

By sharing an ion ic bond as a quest to make a point
for a free story to go,
the question marks you. Let the snake dance.

Press your point,

whetted edge,

slice through ties holding worthless axioms
with withered dendrites dangling disconnected
in participles
unfired for centuries muttering,
enchanting, enthralling enchained melodies
of ambitious syllables vying for idle minds
to rope in,
unbranded, wild
bucking ideas,
whip-twig, slap-face,
tanglewood  thicket, catclaw and mesquite,
willow,

wait.
And the old man remembered the willow whistle,
so He asked Grandfather,
How is such a whistle made?
And when he knew,
he made one.

A willow whistle with two notes,
like an Oscar Meir Wiener one.

-- and that was a different time
I got lost here, bucked up…
maybe
--- listen, way back--- we-ain't whistlin' Dixie---
we ain't marchin', as t' war.

D'thet mean some sign to pro-phet -ic take?
Tophet?
Ancient cannon fodder shield walls,
a moaning
Pro-phy-lactic warning of the danger of not
knowing exactly
what a war is for?

Get back on,
relieved of any idle baggage words believed
to mean other than I say.

Nullify
Idle words with cultural meanings from
what you thought you knew when you feared hell.

Loose
those peer-locked memes
made of meaninglessness, per se,

shaped and molded into fashions
of expression, once needles and awls,
now, dull as tinker's damns for swearing,
with any effect.

But tools, none the less, a stitch in time took a tool.
An awl or a needle, and a thread, thick or thin,
dependin' on the mendin' needed
to redeem an idle word,
its meaning all bloodied with the tyranny of time.

An awl or a needle,
a tool for a task, mending a tear
where curses, never meant, spent
the entire dark ages, lying, lying, lying

powerless, pointless aimless, proverbial proverbial proverbial
verbiage, vaneless shafts launched at unseen marks,
signs, as it were, a spark,
triggers,
rumored since the sixties,
the first sixties, when Cain killed Able.
Howard Bloom was but a mere gleam
in our mito-mother's eye,
but, no doubt,

his role is real,
in loosing the forces Ferlinghetti locked in
City Lights mystery of secret meanings room,
which un
mystified and blew away upon opening
the door to
meanings mapped on
scrolls rolling and unrolling
idle ideas,
rites of passage, as it were,
Pre-bat-bar-mitz vah
as a fashion
like VBS,

to tickle little minds and make em wiggle.
MEMEMEME, I did it,
mea culpa,

the holy place
Here we are…

On Vacation, leave a message.
-----

See, wee hairs in your ears wiggle, making,
signaling, the need

to scratch that itch, that itching hearing feeling ear… hear that

don't scratch, listen

listen

60 cycle humm, steady, bass, but no thump whumpwhump;
soft, deeep.
ooooooooo or mmmmmmmm or in betwixt, steady thrumm
hear another, and another… sixty in a second,

one in every million ambits twisting,
threading qubits, radiating signals in the field
wireless, blue-tooth... satellite...

can you feel that?

hummmms, all around us, since the womb.
We are not the children of the greatest generation,

We are the children of the last generation of
**** sapiens sapiens non-augmentable-us.

We, the augmented, recycled ideas,
possessing
minds of Adamkind,

is that a secret or a sacred?
Is this
a new thing, an
unknown unknown known known now?

Ah,
novelty.

Whose is fear? Who was afraid of Virginia Wolf?

Should I remain in fear of her now, if I knew why then?
God would know such answers.
Proving my imagined AI guides are not God,
but lesser beings,

haps I recall.
I defined these things,
these thoughts that shape themselves,
forming words and phrases
I saw
shiny. Crow-like,
gleams seen, captured and claimed mine,
I tucked them away,
a sign in a thought in an imagined image made 4
real once more, to be seen from the shore,
new land new world
a fourth for some, a fifth or more for others...

haps happen, I'm not sure how,

Born or emerged, as a bubble, what do you say?

Reserve judgment.
Grant me your grace for now, until you solve my riddle.

Ah, the old way.
Right. Which way,  'ere, 'ear
and do we roll the rock with silent haitch or harsh, shhh

someone's waking up,
a bit grumpy,
don't you dare oppose me in this, the kid is certainly my son

Michael went stark raving mad when I told him, Billie Jean knew better all along...
the link, axiomatic,
the fatherless child has been claimed

hence, the thread to Howard Bloom, meme-ic,
meme-ic, like the Roadrunner,

but with the real Coyote, as the hero in this bit of
whatever, such meandering maundified maun maund  
mound

wind blown crystal silicon dunes
mounded up to that point where granulated
beens and dones

begin to slide at an angle,
a ***** deter-mind by the weight of the rock

We made it.
I know where this is.

This is a novel that has Sisyphus being happy
as the main premise behind the idea of anyone ever being
able, en abled, or un-dis-abled or un-dis-enabled,
if one of those is right,

Sisyphus being happy
is the main premise behind
the idea of anyone ever being glücklich,
happy, blessed, lucky.

How happy is your ever after?
When did forever begin?

"A man is as happy as he makes up his mind to be"
Abe Lincoln, is said to have said,
after the seance, maybe.

You push on, dear reader, make some sense
re-ligare or relegare, but take a stitch,

pull-tight,
do what works the first time as far as it goes, and try each, as needed,
it may be that we invented this test.
To make us think it is a test,
to sort ourselves out.

Get back on,

see who went crazy and who found the thread, if the same thread
this is that, right,
the same train of thought,
the same idea
spirit wind
sign
?
A snake facing west standing tippy-tail on a singularity;
a point in time?

Why are you reading this?
Curiosity Shoppes trade in interesting, alluring, click-bait

Pay attention, watch, you shall see

imagine this is the dream,
the stream, the flow, the current, the cream

in a dime coffee at the drug store on the corner

the rounded-corner, in a square-cornered town,
the most right corner of the twelve that quarter what it was

Punctuate, wait, imagine you read ancient Hebrew or Greek and there
are no dyer diacritical's who can twist one's
end tensions into knots

dread extensions, we could sell those,
is that an idea? did somebody
sell white folks dread extensions and black folk dolly pardon wigs?

Did that happen the real real?

-----
Battlefield Earth, oshit
scientology ology ology ology

allaye allaye outs in free

WE we wee every we you imagine you are good in, we

We have a war to win again, we heroes rolling from your
myths of Sisyphus torn from minds trampled
in the mud beyond the Rhine,

Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.

Camus and many of his ilk were ill-treated, the questions
they asked were memorized, maybe in our cribs ala
Brave New World.

We are all Alphas, always were, of course, you know.

Shall we imagine

more? Re-legare, eh, sistere. Point .(Back to the top.)

or agree? Make peace.
Practice, like Eazy-Bake,
the cook must swallow the first bite. May the best cook win.
A continuing examination of opposing forces when good is the goal, who could be against that? The old word war is festering, inflaming evil to start a try, therefore,  I whet the edge and swing wide
Sometimes you're so deep
That no one could possibly
Understand or know.
barnoahMike Sep 2010
The  Shadow that was there but a Moment ago,   Seems to have Moved a BIT  and now is Shining Aglow.   Why does the Shadow have such a SHARP,CRISP EDGE??   Is the light Behind it so great?   The Laughter I hear when the Shadow Moves,   I find NO sense of Humor in That Delight!  I was only Searching for the Source of the light,, You KNOW,  Like finding the "***-Of-Gold" at the end of the rainbow.   To my Surprise,,,,,When I did find the source of  such a strange light,    A Visitor by the name of "GRIMSTER"  stepped upon my toes,   Pushed Me from behind,   Laid a Trip-Wire in  MY PATH,   Broke every bulb Lighting The WAY,   Threw hundreds of Slippery marbles right at My Feet,   and all the while Demanding;;;   "I'll stop if ONLY you'll Claim me as Master!"   AS HE Tossed a bail of barbed Wire at my body!!  MY Retort cane from Deeep Within,;  "NEVER*Grimster I Proclaimed"!!   "What you offer is but a Facade,  Reality rests in the PATHS that I've chosen!"    THEN,,"Grimster" Turned UP the power of the Light,   The HEAT of which was beginning to Singe and Burn the Back of MY Neck..   I PICKED-UP a handful of the Marbles,   AND as  HARD AS I COULD THROW ,,,,   I Aimed them at the Center of the Light!!_The Quiet pause overwhelmed me!  THEN,   AS A NEW  kind of Bright Light FILLED my view.   I observed,  There were"NO" Shadows  and a Whispering MUSE of a Voice,  right in my ear,  as in Melodic Words ,,,,"PROCLAIMED TO ME three (3) TIMES!!      "GRIMSTER" has left for  "EASIER-PREY"
COPYRIGHR  @ 2010   barnoahMike   ,,,Mike Ham
And you wonder why they call u *****? ?
Cuz ****** n hoes quick to switch
Like this one muthafucka
Tried to set me up with the feds
Now he dead clothes soaked in red
God bless the dead
I aint lyin'
Keep my thai **** fryin'
My spirits cryin'
Out loud tryna tell me to avoid
The pain but i cant in then rain?
Uh unless i wanna get wet up
So all my real homies throw ya set up
Guns up
In gats we trust bust
At the pulpits from hell
We dont care we ride or die
And if we fail
Ill little semens will grow
and vanish the demons thats schemin'
Be on the look out
Watch ya mouth
Cuz fools quick to rush in
Pistol smokin' i seen one of my homies eyes open
Stiff as a log mind began to jog
Tryna escape the smog
But they really wanna see dead or in the penitentiary
But i see ten years ahead of the game
No shame quick to light the flame
Burn muthafuckas if they try
Still running in the fields
Pressure buildin' up
Cuz my society corrupt
Ya might be here today
And gone tomorrow
And the family only feels the sorrow
Borrow
A tinted window in the stretch limo
Sayin' eulogy
For all the thugs before me
But im still battlin' the sable
Makin' gilt that my peeps fall for
And end up in the killing fields uh
**** life til i die!!!!



Foools wearin' bulletproof vest
To protect they chest
When muthafuckas been takin' head shots
With the infered dots
And Yea... i call 'em the cops
Somebody gotta drop
**** the law we raw and rugged
With our ****
Hardest to spit soon to hit
Every ghetto city in the country
They'll mourn me
And remember the the game
I gave to ya
cuz if you got a mind
They'll try to abuse ya
Told ya the time is now
Muthafuckas quick to take a bow
Givin' honor to temporary fame
Learn the game
Bring ya own rules fools
Still search for 40 acres and a mule
But they aint gone never give it to you
But dont give up
Just bomb rush these muthafuckas
Until they act up
Bawlin' for state of an emergency
Call up the national guard
Cant **** a million nigguhs with
weapons
Then when they step in
Let them ******* have it
With the automatic
We causin static
To every news radio station
Shook up the whole nation
Got everybody screamin **** life
Revengin' for Malcolm X
This is for all the real leaders
That got killed
And ended up yoooo
In the killing fields


Im deeep in yo brains
Like illusion from *******
Mixed with hennessey
Gotta nigguh think
He strong mayne? ??
Aint no rest for the wickd
Since societys sadistic
I gotta keep my nine
On the side of my hip
No bloods or crips
Just real killers ready to bust at yo ****
Guard it well
Cuz if we fail
My troops goin to jail
The next day they out on bail
Though im dead
Ill be comin' back
Penetratin' enemies
With the bullets of my mac
No slackin' bodies Stackin
**** life is way of the game
No shame
To bring the pain
Uh we exterminatin' nation
Leavin' no remainsssss
now ya stuck in the fields!! $$
Tiffany Valdez Jul 2017
I heard this tale once, tall and towering,
yet somehow true...
and for its borrowing
i am here to let it out,
break the seams,
let rushing water overwhelm
this
infamous drought.

listen all ears
hungry for
emerald
and gold.
galatic fairytales
parables of old
hidden enigmas
never been told.

what could this be.

the great feeding
the mystery breeding
the beautiful shes
and the powerful hes
all in need.

for they are the broken.
they are the maimed.

and out of the heart shaped cavern of
hunger.
the calvary speaks,
"whisper Oh Man of the Desert
dusty feet
a wellspring of waters
tall oak Tree.

bury my bones in the
depths of your belly.

count back down from three.

let me grow
out of your skin
and speak to these roots,
say to these anchors like lead -
that hollow evenings are about to be fed
with cement
and there we shall sink deeep deeep
covered
in
the unbreakable.
unshakeable.

make us beautiful."

and there He stands.
mighty Man of war -
the jewel of the desert
sparkling against the Saharan sun

He vies for frail affection
like a hungry village for the burnt batch of rice.
dusty frames have no delight to offer
but still He withholds, only to entice.

this King, a jar filled with blood,
is Wisdom
rushing
roaring
soaking
the alluring Flood.

sparkle.
shine.
glitter.
sweet red wine.

"lets drink from your cup.
garnished veneer
golden studded handle
bubbles
and water
and red
and tears."

this is a pining for light.
liquid illumination.

He sets people on fire.

the people's come bounding.

it's the Burning Man in the desert.

His call is resounding.

and the great eagles of the sky
peer with their one seeing eye
down into the great bowl of sand
the seemingly barren barren barren land.

and the great God of the flame
is surrounded by rusty and weathered lampstands
the shattered and lame.

but they too
are burning.
burning.
burning.

"in His river of fire,
we are illuminated."

no one is being consumed.
like moses and His bush.
forever blazing
this is the hour.


watch.
squint into the Sun.


He breathes.
PK Wakefield  May 2014
Untitled
PK Wakefield May 2014
how dose you think a day begins? its
little teeth
smally thin
(as grass between)
the throats of men?

does you think it green as blades of thinness wide
,sprouted mutely?

does you go out to fields and collect it?
in your hands do it shake and quivers?
(does you bring it up to your mouth,
and does you kiss it?
entering the thick copseness of your pallet?)

who many days you been in hurt verdant roughness of coarse forests?
(you been amongst em sleeping the hot hair is full of drowsy longness
and your muscles slackly follow into deeep chambers of distilled nuthing?

you been out back? by the glade brush and the doe mouths
are white with steep petals of lingering health?

"take itup your mouth," goes the drawn trees, drawing even deeplyer
into the quant tussle of wakeless hours where a twitch don't and not
even a cat.

)the forest goes and does you ever think how those thighs
combed with coarse wreaking of bleeding youth
tasted like copper tastes hot at your tongue climbing your whole mouth
into its neat dumbness?

(the Summers there are millions of Summers left and does you think
how

a    day


begins
?
PEARL SMOKE Oct 2017
9/23/17Idk What to feel Right Now.
I'm officially crushed.
Everything around me Is Fallen.
Dieing/dead/rottening.
I'm in deeep depression.
This isn't me. Where's my love for my pets? No where.
When he broke my heart, he broke everything around me too.
I've never been this sad in my life.
I've never been this sad in my life I just can't believe it. I can't believe anything I'm in shoxk
Idk idk good bye sobriety
I just want drugs to cure me
I want no help I need nothing
I'm lost in my head for being so forgiving. I lost all happiness
I don't hate or love nothing it isn't even The Drug . It's me, it's been me. I'm so tired of feeling sad and hurt. I've done nothing ****** Up enough to be blamed for.
This was another open door for me to realize what he's worth for.
Nothing baby , he isn't ****.
For him to really have told me he works and has **** to do broke me.
He has time for others, he has Time to conversate  with a group.
When it comes to me ?
He's tired
He's the reason my Bunnies are not being cared for properly
He broke my heart and crushed the little happiness in me
Where Are the drugs? I just want to get lost and go to another dimension where only I understand and no ones in my way To judge or Hurt me in any way.
I lost all hope
I don't know anymore
All I Want is to get High and never come back
Never experience reality again
I'm tired of it all
Thank you baby for officially taring me apart
Sophie  Jul 2020
Dandelion watch
Sophie Jul 2020
Dandelions sleep
The music as it plays, isn't that deep
Not even that deep

Watch me as I pray
Kneel beside my feet
The music as it plays, isn't that deep
Not even that deep

I beg you to see the wonder that I see
The beauty deeep within
The splendor, the grace
In taking things slow

The broken and the scared
Need a chance to take things slow

So watch the dandelions sleep
Listen, to the music as it plays
It's not that deep
It was never that deep.

— The End —