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no truth login Apr 2020
who can hold the wind in his fist?

~for Ken Pepiton~

your poems full of hints and innuendo,
most of them I don’t get, of stuff, I don’t know, no clue,
my education impoverished, which is why lucky me,
I’m getting my viral signed check for 1200 bucks,
yes siree

but some college educated sharp eyed feller,
said look, see how Ken keen, has the bestus, the real tuff stuff,
hidey holed in the footnotes purposed for you to miss it,
****, he was right, cause I found what you hided!


who can hold the wind in his fist?

an inquisition worthy of a thousand answers,
my Roman slave cautions forbearance, whispering in
my one remaining unconquered Gauguin ear, just the best,
these time of times, hanging heavy, be sweet, leave out the chaff

I, cannot hold the wind in my fist,
for it has always befriended, going
over my life-coarsened skin,
through my-stubbled fingers,
cooling and christening, constant teasing kissing
as it was born anew, a first time poem,
it was meant to be unkept and unkempt

you might want to hold on, keep it, for its touch is indeed
that of a first time lady loved, savoring the cool,
and the heat simultaneous, no fool us, empowering,
the wind forever runs freely, between, never sticking,
going around my body, into my open orifices,
sometimes caressing, sometimes troubling,
its power leaving us atrembling, moved, straighter or bent over

those who created wind and water had many reasons,
but their first purpose was to constant enliven the human mind
with the softest message that true freedom is never bounded,
nature’s song is refrained, “man, be unrestrained,”
it’s majesty then greatest,
men may fool themselves with lines and divisions,
Earth’s best best seen in its unconstrained, searching character
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
the need to be needed at the level of corpuscular order,

tunnels flushing- usable to useless,
three cycles per sixty pumps synched
recently discovered fact,


them sphincters, wiggle that tail,

this is that, or
better said this is as that was.

That's over. we timed it.

is a messenger, you might
see it as a program, a chron-job,

an I'll go rhythm from the ole Pepiton lexicon.

Apotosis of the completely alienated
right, if nothing works as well as all the evil let be-ers think,
then we know everything is getting better than that.

True, hold right in the side of your mind you are on best terms with,

judge the messenger by the message,

this is judging angels. y/n

get a grip, some such rights ain't

we are on team earth,
**** sapient sapient augmentalatedus,

new construals of what we may be
and these words
are flowing where dry bones were,
last I noticed.
Listening to Howard Bloom Lucifer Principle and a musing my self imaging memes. Imagine this is as I wisht, okeh, this is... mind wanders on
Ken Pepiton May 8
Did I never notice,
make note for future ferance re
sufferance, under the load of we,
the people. we,
the people who lived on land
rented from Mormons
who claimed the God who runs
Easter and Christmas gave it to them,
for being brave enough to take the land,

as had the valiant Evangelista in
sisting resistance to Hari Krishna- yeah

I was alive, when the times did change.
I was the bargaining chip that tipped the bet,

straw boss, that is one subliminally poetic
job title, given me, as anyone could see,
due to me, being so good with the spiritual
interface on a standard fifties American mind set,

absent, the reading done in college prep, by those
who run the world now,
boomers, big wave of new blood, with a few set
aside for trial runs,
some things we never tried on Turing, but Von Nueman
says the all
go rythms have been mediated,
forming a message that never
may be altered,
but it is in code.
- not possible without faith to know
- the imagined unit of measure
- is prescience - possible
- original bias to plus,
- as we well recall a while ago, each
- matter was balanced in antimatter
What must one say one may
know, al as re al as ev er re ai ai ai, syllables
ligare knot re
ligare gnosiadnozity re
legions in legirons marking time,

stamping cleated feet to the cadence,
double time,
ramming speed, boom

v; for verses victimized
Ken Pepiton at 12/23/2021 1:15 PM
v: for inimical
from Latin inimicus "an unfriend; an enemy".
from in- "not" + amicus "friend"
related to amare "to love" ah,
mimicable me, see me mirroring
the flow of snow,
in the pre-broken globe, shaken to delight, a bit
me who sees the swirl settle
knowing, after all, is when we know
knowing is
as imagined,
or it is not knowing, at all.
Binging is new for mortals. This past two year binge has left me loaded
with elite tv references available only to subscribers, and friends who share creds/ - I think TV is Ai's now and so is the cloud war AWS 502 plot to stay the flow of tyranny toppling poetry from idle stories activated binging by

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