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pearson  Apr 2015
( opi )
pearson Apr 2015
She smiles
My little Opi
And then the clouds
All go away

She smiles
My beautiful child
And the snow
Starts to melt today

She laughs
My wonderful Opi
And gray
Turns to "Yay!"
For all those little lonely souls out there.
Phoenix Rising  May 2015
Opi
Phoenix Rising May 2015
Opi
The pen drew dots in my eyes,
my grip lessened and there I was
Nothingness

No, not bad
No, not good
Nothing

Nothing was...
Nothing

I liked to spend most of my time being nothing
in the bath tub
While the days happened without me
and blurred over like watercolor
OnwardFlame Jan 2015
11:11 make a wish
But it isn't even 11:11
11:08--that Fungomery, Alabama time.
Tomorrow morn I will ride on an airplane
My father by my side
I will examine scripts and papers, pen and hand
Lets all swoon to the sighs of the kind of man we want.

And I can feel it coming
And I can feel it sort of hurting
But I have got to let go of the bad.
Long Eyelashes I am sure you reach from afar
Somewhere, with your bags of the past
Your inability to really share and put yourself out there
But enough is enough,
Lets not drag around what is not.
Let me
Not drag around--what is not.
Right?
Right.

My hair is piled atop my head
Waiting to see that face, I wish I could see
All of my days--I think
Right!
Right?
Right.
Right

High on the last night
Mother and father scurry about
My brothers and I do our own thing
I guess I could have called you back
But a good friend reminds me whats over can be over.

I think I could feel a huge, giant wave of relief
I think weight would be gone
I think I have ****** up so much poison
And there has been light
But now let the light completely in.
I long to dance in the darkness, knowing the light resides within me


You tell me I mesmerize you
Lets play games, pretend--you and me
I don't know what any of it means
Wish we had more time, we wish time
Not enough time
A woman said next to me today
At the nail salon,
And I thought: "How true."


Windy city--its gonna be 5 degrees, my mother warns
But I brave the storm, as I always have
And it would be easier to stay
It would be easier to not make any choices
It would be easier to not chase the moon
But I never really followed the rules.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2019
every emotion has its shadow enrolled
in an ad on the six o'clock news

Science of virility, once
quackery, now proven,
Rhinohorn substitutes and such,

mere hints of unspoken rites in clawfoot tubs
at sunset.

Relieving, reliving
recall the pain

products pitched at every pain.

A pill, a plan for any pain,

for each

and ever y
dis comfort or dread.

Oft fear's the trigger
symptom,
fear of one name or another;
we gotta pill
f'that, phobiabout it.

tell y'pusher y'got it, step by step,
somnambulism. Doctor, Doctor

Am bein' sorta vague, y' see, a need
how to', tuts t'see

Doc say, on TV, 'tween the lines,
pull
PTSD , he say,
we can all do that now,
better 'n carpal tunnel in the eighties

Hey, opi-oid whistlin, fishin, re
min-iscing

Back in the day, we wusht f' nut'in' t'do,

now, me 'n' them voices in m' head,

do nuthin', ala time, jest watch.

Meditate, cogitate, take thought, fret not,
nothin' t'do but wait. Seeds gotta grow.

Snow is melting in patient drips, the theory
is that water's where idle words wait,
and as the axis ice recedes,

those idle words return to the cycle and
rain phrases worthy of heed, in theory,
the secrets frozen since God knows when.

Cognitive troubling knowns
have been loosed, to flow, and shift to
spirit once mormorphing back to
fluidity on a speck o'the highest dust of the earth,

growing an anti-bubble, a water balloon
rain drop,
remembering everything. Imagine that.

Water remembers everything. I heard. Somewhere.
That's another the or y.
Ys are odd alone.

There are thoughts not even mathmaticians
think they can know,
within mortal realitification
as mortal minded men imagining
times and time and half a time mean anything constant,
any fixed weight worth, wor-th,

methinks we know less of worth than those who sell.

Don'cha hate a false balance?
what scale, Libre, eh, Claws of Scorpio, y'know,

how many words to or from God does it take to
tip the scale of

Just is?

What ruler is here that
we might use right, to measure
what'samatter?

Is life broken? Is ignorance killing truth?
Is there no way where there seems no way?
Who wants to know?

Trow ye not,
We could do better, we could
pay. We sapiens aspiens augmentatious
could
buy the golden
rule,
tried in fire, drossless,
at our own expense, in a sense.

We can stand up under knowing good and evil,
inside out, leaning into good as good can be,
living edge-wise balanced. Being
confident, doubleminded, sapient sapient augmentedus being,
paying life attention
for all we are worth. Okeh. That's all I had to say.
Frustration post situation confronting a cult leader teaching the tricks of the trade.
Liars teach proven theories for believing anything you can. I think such lies may be un believed. Unbelievable, means you can un believe.
Noah Feb 2015
I used to paint my nails every month,
the night before chapel,
just to have something to scratch off the next day.
(Flakes of OPI No. 25 in the cracks of cheap pews)
Today I peeled the clear coat from my index finger in math
while I stared at a bottle of Diet Pepsi
Kept up at night by politics or teenage hormones, but usually both.
(Transferral: Catholic to Jewish, Madonna to Lindsey)
Steel replaced by fingertips, arms replaced by thighs.
A year ago, I wouldn't have believed I would be thinking of foreign policy puns at midnight,
even if Jesus himself had told me so.
this ****** poem is dedicated to my recovery, to my good friend Lindsey, and to my thirst for political figures.

— The End —