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Ken Pepiton Sep 2020
Proof, tongues spark fires.
As I burn in indignant
rage of uselessness.

But if I could I would make all houses fireproof.

Fireproof,
my house could be buried.
It would be fire proof, but I can not pay to do the job.

I can imagine it done.
I can imagine living in a mound I paid to have made,
I can imagine finding funding in a lottery ticket that blows by.

In my chthonic dwelling place,
I might imagine forging peace from scorn,
I might imagine shaping forms for horns and bells,
I might imagine making hate bow before darkening my door.

Fireproof,
in California, in 2020,
in the September like none can remember. listen:

Some say san'ana win's be blown in spite,
of all them prayers and they prayers,

Peacemaker sorts, say, not t'night.
Wounded warriors wisht redemption, gimme one mo' shot,
I got t'tell, t'*** outa hell. f'free, {humming birds were singing}

yeah, free, for the troof.
seekt 'n' found,
settled down, watch 2020 vision in 1963 mind,
at the Stardust Drive-In, on Route 66.

Kids, I cannot lie, I was a liar by trade and inclination,
so I do know how, and why, liars prosper.

I lack the knack.

I suspect Plato had this problem.
Nobody will believe me if I say I know this, but
IF
I were to say Socrates says he thinks this
or that,
I could talk to myself for hours, if I were Socrates
and Plato…
I could carry on trial-tri-tryag'in-a-logs,
make a joining thing
attack a subconning science, see a mental canker worm,

at the core,
lusting for more. And swallow.
--
Try the brandy, we perfected the tekhne, in 1263,
the very essence of a satisfied mind,
we captured in patient perfection.

Faster fasting, 2020, see, you ask me, I say, go slow --

look around,
some things happening here, there, where my words
are where you are,

and that's
kinda kool.
We come up to the Kool taste, all
gnostalgic gnshit.

Why so serious, seriously, if Schiller says, to this day,
our kind are at our peak in states of whole
heart and mind harmonized play.

Nobody blows my horn, see,
I move the needles, shhh
sing a song sung in pines,

say, sighing, I know, softer, I know
softer, still, I know

I heard
Little Boy Blue, come
blow your horn… yeah, pretty sure…

The brandy, right. I knew some things changed.

Fireproofing plan, began to take shape
and was buried in
details,

yes,{yes, yes} the rub, the scratch on the glass,
rough diamonds
find that act
vibratorily
such a rush, ping, the sing, ting - tones spiders feel,
while kiting over grand granite domes
protruding from Baja to Reno, and beyond.
--
A wise man built his house on this rock,
and I bought it, on credit, by God,
I declare I am no man's slave,
I owe no man, but to be a true and noble friend at all times.

Naturally, of course, in the flow of all things,
as AI has guessed it might look
from a distance, we see

we are a very tiny bit
of everything at once.

What I think I am matters, just exactly that much.

-- and on earth, in reality,
I thank God Almighty
and the best of luck, for firefighter types of minds and bodies.
Wishes work, I believe in the overall goodness of intention. Hate is so distracting from hope and better effort, invested in the future, from now.
the flesh goes familiar, those “things “ that manufactured
desire frequent, hacked by time, weakness of spirit, no blame,
just the same, the not so vague re-collections, not insane, we-
we’re crazy desirous in ways only humans can rationalize
naked crazy desire, mating for life, the eroticism of certain letters,
e, k, s, t & y
and unbefitting, un-bewitting:
accident incredible incredulous,

you have spelled ecstasy,
not reality for ecstasy
is a state of trying to
make memories so crazed
that they become
lore
factual,
actual,
but beyond
belief,
singed with
grief, at their
disappearance
from current
history.

we play Prince, Michael Jackson,
The Commodores,

like the way
we tasted,
eclectic,
eclectic,
*******
direction,
the wordle
of interconnected
devolvement
fluidity

she states you write differently,
what’s the differential that been inserted?
are you pregnant or just elder?
her head shaking, possible sighting
of tears, fall into teacups, poured into
the aquarium, where the species
remind us we don’t cross breed,
and when we don’t, we master
the creation of rationalizations
and know, no, that it is a far worse
than the then of naked, pure, unlimited
desire.

ah.


we agree,
that changing my name
would be gracious,
efficacious,
hazardous, potentially
noxious and go back
to our laptops to
shed verbal tears.
Ken Pepiton Mar 19
A moment's attention to an hour's raw worth.
This is the mind ****** experiment, last try...
back and forth until it breaks,
touch the edge, feel the heat.

On knowing, first taste, it is believed,
mankind's first mother made all mankind,
all from first mother
on to logically, eventually,
us;
You and me,
as we slipt the Matrix and uttered
the first breath wail that clicks the post womb life.

First thought that death ought be feared
has not yet been given the beguilement needed,
to make a slave to the mission revealed by truth's
spirit form, wind form, mind form, time formed point.

Knowledge, forbid my ignorance, but should one,
such as I, not die before my **** hair thins,
to lay bare the scalp that covers holy access
through the window in the top of the skull;

well, then, a certain respect is due me, a love, proof
that my reasonings were honed sharp enough,
early enough to form hooks to hang strands
of fullered fibers of gnosis from.

Prepared stitching thread, twirled intwining line
of reason, plumb weighted to hang straight,

perpindicular, swinging when to when, then
to now, to day from night, to ready after letters
are fitted to let us take thought, while attempting

contemplative temporary causal agency,
mediating meditation's worth versus daydreaming.

--------------
Standard transmission, clutched, loosed,
engaged to catch a spark and start the process

rolling presently from past instances of learning.

Motivational motors of minding one's busyness,
catch a spark mid sequence, in a valved chamber

whooshing to push to shove to pull, and push
to displace and **** and shove to push and roll,

extending any individual's reach, confining
one's attention to inner reasonings, efforting
to steer the convenience compelling consciousness,

paid attention to terminii in reality set by science,
acknowledged used to increase the mobility of our kind,
mind you, promotion demands hands and eyes,
coordinating coy and ardent wills worth observation,
as will to be useful as  arms and necks and nerves
and muscles and ligaments to tie bone frames,
to controls allowing fingers to steer,
as tongues do, as rudders do,

as my will being done may do,
we imagine as children watching adults work wishing.



---------
the efforting, effectual, fervent umph
applied to being useful on the whole,

the efforting made good by limitation
on liberty, free-state of matter, under
gravity and velocity, bound and determined,

to obey the binding force realized in thought,
leveraging aging winding springs force holds,
cogs to stop grinding gears, catchments,
mind hooks with torque converting aspiration

grasping reasons to resist inertial entropic
good enough reasons to sit still and wait.

------

guaged goodness, measured mind width
comprehended, held with thumb and fingers,
in our combined ready writer mind, manipulated

muscle memorial cause confirming, progress
toward our common, shared joy strength

winging lift up from least useful of creatures,
unselfsustainable --nidicolous, nest bound,
bald baby birds, or pre-birds, evolving
into functional forms for use in life
as we, the best form
of life we have conceived.
-----------

We have, behavioral autonomy, only
to the degree, the measured
parental investment, we need to have
and keep hold of having grasped, as
behavior becoming to beings of this kind.

Word smiths, mind adjustment experts,
fed from stacks in libraries so vast, that

now, we know, no mortal mind can hold
half of all we have experimentally proven
good for any word using cluster of us to have

to hold and use to make might be rights.

May might used right take thought, aye, may
be the will to have right use honed to one point,

new known pastless place, farthest edge
of ever after all we think or ask has proven,

patient stasis, waiting is, suffer it to be so now.

Some times and one times,
revisiting the process, producing me
and you, the processors of our realif-ications.

If as a condition,
in an ifery state, sticking to any matter realized;
we think as if one of us thought first, in time passing

now, from then, in your mind, my mind leaves reproof,
constructed to prevent the falling back into doubt,

two heads, four minds, one wind to share
in time passing as when one now meets a then,
when all attention ever once paid this now, turns

this time into a part of ever after all,
as words speak to heart felt conscience use proven
good, clean, pure state of first interest bearing lent
ears, hearing entertaining causing agents taunting troof.

Prove me now, herewith. Have I not filled your lungs,
have I not granted science right use of knowledge needed

to keep your nidicolous naked soul inspired to continue,
sowing kindness, same mindness, ag, agrimental agreement

we think, we thunk,
we thank our lucky stars, time and chance,

taut twang strangs of our hearts and minds, "chu-hoi",

big hugs, evahboty be nice like G.I., open arms
sự đầu hàng

bring before us the machine gunner called Whykill… begin
judgment near the incident, sự kiện, 29-02-01968,

There we was, me and Frenchy and Culpepper or something,
I forget, and now, I'm dead and all you all have are artificial
memorex versions of things I said I was a witness to, as a liar,
-nothin' but a houn'dawgnosis
picking old scents of sense we made in conversations,
so far past the point of no return, that none on the other side,
can contain innocense, livery of consci, where in our uniformity,

protrudes through old time religious linking thinking, wonders if
we might imagine living on in other words, after all's been
said and done… Whykill's dead. Hohlenstein's dead, and I am not.

Can you hear me now? Earth, earth, can you hear me now?
I hear your brother's blood crying out,
what now, this
now,
you know,
all those idle questions, you know? Did you
feel me lie and tell me no, no, man,
you can't do that.

And be not deceived. Single mind dominance, flat
left and correct, right, right, create an ifery wasery when,

then, let us form a means to use this ifery wasery when,
now, let us form
in time as realizable, vision, written plain,

set in new fangled fonts unicoded
common computable convertible
to bits in math-mental fundus corpus us,
beyond infinity through absurdity to us
becoming these thinkable thoughts,
living words all googly translated on demand,
rethinkable, as entertaining shapers of our kinds
of minds, keyed to constant news alerts, looking
for spots on the walls we pass along, hedged betting

this land is Nature's God's land, and this pasture,
green and lush, this leisure time, as advertised,
mine, my last wish
combination running streams of hot and cold water,
memory foam souls in my Adidas, as I did, assume
the role, Balaam's ***, or donkey,
if your public ***** word filter
hides ssscertain ifery essence
as sounds shuffled schitteringshits.
saint's accuser user rights assigned, runs
Phunky muse, ish bin, dasein, by das zeit, okeh
become alright already, done did done, done, indeed,
desired right to design, knowing already
the idea in the seed, was in
the virus first, and some say
long before long now,
in long then when nothing was a thought.
Knowledge was used to expose us all to living words.
Such as =
U can hold, as a mind let be formed
from mere wish it were
so easy
to fall in love, silly, blessedness
sensing mothering wombed men,
led astray with stories as wild as Theresa wannabes can conceive,
barren womb conceptions, dared define this penetralium,
esoteric guts of all sacred oxen processions, announcing
****** births reportedly
become motherless *******, and such
become outcasts, who often as not,
survive and thrive on wilderness.
Day and night, seedtime and harvest.
Learning from wind and sun and water and dirt and stone,
presoil granite, lime
from primordial sealife eons
on eons awaited, according to Devine wedoms
aspiring to some day become those cities of marble long ago
- replicate forming a marble pillar,
- from seaformed life forms turned to stone,
- in the kidneys of the world.

slow sea settle the white cliffs, pile
on pressure from megatons
of solid ice, firming fractious soft muds
at the bottom
of ancient land locked oceans,
frozen, squeezing solidified worths
weights of rainfall reacting first time
to climates constant changing
pulls from lucky stars and
guiding stars and
disintegrating
ancient's land marks, Casa Bonita,
those Bhuda reps
in the basalt, reminding
remember nothing is real,
blank slate, po' preserver of first impressions, lasting
lifetimes in words never given a reader's added weight, but

by a kind of more than once might wish
to ask, effectuality try
proofing insulation umph
opposing imposture syndrome,
with functional Dunning Krueger
inate cognative imbalence, valenced
within the pre pancreatic failure gut neurons bias…
burped bubble perception, whole self tuning
entire being concept, repenting ignorance begging
truth be known, make me unbelieve beloved lies,
other wise
make me
Art
Intuited, as a weform lifeform,
a we of three neuronal territories,
thinkers reading doer's reports from ports far afield, out there

where shapes of things that were some time ago,
can be translated into two dimensions fitting this window,
using these letters whose sense we all may use to think

translate me, the living word reminds the daydreaming monk,
consider really the stars, for number, now, and take that,
knowledge, a ledge on an oblique inleaning facet of us,

and walk along it not looking down
on or as, may be
the we form of one ready
to be reading ready we state,
in a punctuated equilibrium *** *** ***
Drums
Timpanis, Phrigian rhythms boom boom booming,
Zildjians , krashing and rolling into boingingnodes, domes
of dones, tells holding long forgotten legends for a time.

Nineveh, the repentant city, eh,
to the level
of its labor class things, fasted an acceptable fast,
miracle of miracles, the city did not fall, the miracle
of Jonah was that the city changed behavior
to such a degree that the God who had used Jonah,
made him a story in himself, used to glorify truth,
and someday make gourd growers
proud to be shapers if Meerschaum puff clouds,
made him a creature with no comprehension of mercy,
to use him in a great sorting out testing of spirits,
in the great game of the being edge overlapping gains
taken as granted grace, readers rule non readers,
see the images on the wall, hear the actors in the back,

break a leg, bad luck magic insiders hold true good,
encouragement to fret nothing, as a dancer does,
when listing with the breeze through new chance,

on the page, a pause,
a breather taking lax laze lize guessing others wise,

we suspect ourselves of hubris, as if the other wise
reason for the functional faith in goodness is done,

sneezing phase is past, if you've read this far, by now

you are infected, and as you know, knowing too much
can **** a mortal bent to believe an institutionalized PR
Q-code/ begging oppositional support,
for the dam whence the boy pulled his finger and stepped

back to be blown downstream in time to let the last salmon
spawn and bring worth back to the rain always falling,
mainly on the plain,

Habakkuk habit, artistic intuition patterns of stroke, for luck,
let role in lines intending to hold the slightest smile,
thinking I know, this is not the same vale,
this is not the same current, nor same opinion worth a look,
streaming, not rowing, life
at the moment
is a day taken
for daydreaming equivalent
to a koan ridden
to its vanishing point
on the horizontal insistence
of our mutual peculiar leanings off center,

in a phi mark pattern pearling things think through,
doing words a proper spin,
to hit the nail on the head,
pop.
Stop/ now. Taste the pudding,
is there proof now from then?
D'he, ahe he he - didja ever have the ware withal
to make up
your own mind?

-------------
Yes, walk away, daydreaming boy,
location and possession of means,
for deciphering Emperical runes,
put into my craft and trade in
Calabash pipes, seen, but unseen
gourds employed as smoked ****
and fine tobacco investigatory oral
fixations prominent during the nicotine
DNA adaptation,
{took five generations}
from popular pastime
of blowing smoke, after effects
took on global societal ruling lines
of taut strict reasons to keep smoking,
keep on, keepin' on, minding solo scriptura,

in smoke filled rooms whither whole new forms
for holding mental tyranny enough to wage war,
took shape to govern those who must fight for
the cost of power contained
in a concept with kings,
and us, or Gods and men…
opposed to, leaning against, acting
as scaffolding holding old dams destined
soon to break,
"and at that time thy people shall be delivered,
every one that shall be found written
in the book."

Johnstown flood, was a true historical news worthy event,
unlike the name of any person whose name is in a list
of souls departed from the frail shell of mortality,

ready or not.
Fret not, and naught, aye, no thing or thought
Christmas angel say aight, be not afraid of knowing,
good new things to know, whole old truths put to rest.

Here come Jubilee, one last time,
big time, big time revival of the truth conception

creator of the whole shebang.
Biggest to infinitile insignificance, in fancy other words.

But thou, O Daniel,
shut up the words, and seal the book,
to the time of the end:
many shall run to and fro,

Assisting intelligences shall seem as guides,
Michael models will seem like second comings.

in implodelusive spurts… as can be imagined
reviving old lies for new carnal mind tweaks.
Thanks for your patient investment, the cost of your attention ags me on.
Ken Pepiton Mar 2021
Being alien on earth is not easy,
there are no precedents,
tell the true proof, troof,
the previous refugees …
all over the planet could seldom
leave a legacy of literature, as did the victors
in the famous wars where our father's
fought or died, in chains,
prison killed, always,
something
inside a man, who
refused to fight
for trading rights,
and owning rights and renting rights
and lending rights…
belonging, by law and holy writ none could read,
to the heirs of all that money loves… is an alien thought,
if you think it.
Reading counts as thinking here, line by line.

we ran and we survived… all of us.
we remember the stories our fathers told, I still sing the song.

… it was then, when we all was equal, none royal or bully.
it was then we was alienated, mindwise, we
was never the same at the story teller level,
mostly old warriors told stories
the preachers told,
but with
mud
made of clay and blood, and little of the honor
as has become
believed to be worth killing many strangers, for honor,
national pride,
ethnic pride,
holy pride,
foolish pride that expands the space of any we.
Mobs have no free will… armies are mobs, in the mind.
Knowers breathe the same sure things that cannot change,
breath commas are scribble-tech - legal in 2021
alienated minds may make waves
on oceans of opinion, intent on influencing a we to be
the people who stand under no wedom token,
nor wear the t-shirt.

No we includes me,
alien being ain't easy. It's tricky not to lie.
Alienated minds wander at will, no free will, definitions
-part of me imagines getting high with Sam Harris
-on my front porch, with the hawks and the sunsets…

I was thinking of that guy, Sam- I am
Dr. Suess, was reared in racist 1930's earth, okeh.
But he was alienated, later in life.
He became not like those who never heard a who.

-but it was Sam Harris, I will not disagree with.
I will agree with his definition of will and free. I will
see if that unalienates me.

Will I feel a part of the smart set who know what the
problem is, if you will?
{}
*******, as a character trait, is manifest here, as me.
Okeh, is almost always
this ******* voice, but not one you hate. Jack Nicholson,
that character, the actor, ******* is like the
maskless Arlecchino, in civvies…

Alienated minds meander by nature, as gravity is good…
but sometimes there needs to be a means
to slow the flow of all we may imagine,
practice being real in,
like a song none shall ever hear, you be the song
alien in spirit mind and body, but in 2021.

all we believed we were,
the free and the brave,
the children of the
serfs and peasants and slaves,
y'know_
"your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

---- No lie, I got a call… like right now, 2:48 post meridian
Saturday. On a recorded line, no less,
the republican national committee, calling me, crazy old
storyteller from the old school, she says, to me, that
this call with me is important for the good of the country,
like it's national pride, the gas-filled party balloon
I see
freely trigger a disneyified response in me
shaped to trigger the Disneyfied Vision of America, RNC version
***** head kid, covid masked, with a pink Micky Mouse Shape,
-- like water, yes, a mickeymouseshape molecule arranges
water in all its shape and powers.

Wu wei wu wu, do nothing, watch life pass
being wise as water, harmless as a rock
Of course, there's more to ever in any story once begun. That is the fun.
Ken Pepiton May 23
Called to the word, duty.
- three poemlings -
- for American Memorial Day

Memorialized worth weighed.
-- what would I memorialize?

Duty weighed
in the commons
this due debt each reader obeys,
leaving any original touch alive in logos
used to fit reasons why and how for now,
using memorialized excuses for active wars
calling ceaselessly hero wannabes
to hold true earnest faith in wars reasons
being  a duty, an aliegiance,
only that which must be done,
while young in wordless wonder of mutual nonsense
if sense and sensitivity persist past understanding.

Look up. Imagine ever, imagine now, ever
after all we think or ask is made apparent,

an artifice, a made thing, not made by hand,

the heavens and all that in them is, like us,
too complex to guess self formed, as if
no reason, no rational balance law
enforces re-ality always,
in our own time.

------------------

After all, now, is what we be
as sensing sanity beings
in cosmic chaos bound
to spiral ever more ceaseless.

Learning life's way.
Spinning enforcing will…
per hap and chance ifery.

According to a whim,
whether mine or another's,

I venture not to say I know,
for in this time I'm bound in,

I am bound to ever learn and
so, to confess the process,
ready made, pre-installed,

whimsical reification of wha-tifery
we may imagine without words.

Symbolic jestures, gestating
waiting. Making up secret signs,

lo' I see, you know, that I am
naked, first idea tasted
raw ality init run on
gaseous, formless
we, us ones, awe
forms framed in lucid

lackadaisical tension loosing.

------------------


Phased perrenial philo response,
sponsored by the guy who lied to you.

Truth beknownst, as knowledge
and understood wisdom,
wissen wishin' kennen
kennethed upto me,

may, is my word today.
I may say I think, and think
I may.

Enter, if you will, you may, here;
for to hear a wink reminds us, we;
persistent sophistries relax ourselves,
into the one thing we all think we are.

Yes. There and then, we think we are.
I am of a mind to accept the similarity.

I am out acting out-ist-ence, seeming
something informationally nebulous,

a thought, unfit for children's
undeveloped world stage character,

- in the software under our skin
- we are gaseous by simile being
- breaths used time and again, sigh
signs of all the stages, phazes of us, this

we who seek and find delight,
in learning who lied and why,

when truth telling gets you kilt. Dead,
memorialized with a national holiday
a day set apart to acknowledge duty
done gone
totally off kilter,
tipped too far,
to fill the vessles, not a few,
as duty to the professor.

- as one ever learns one is
- nothing but a bit of it,
- reality as we imagine.

Under the umbrella of religational
authority, we tie our mind's axe
in a bundle of barrel staves,

and offer liberty means to set minds
loose enough to imagine freedom

from authorities existing in the paradigm
fitted to the model citizen, for when
a memorial day comes to our we mind,
we finish realizing this is Spaceship Earth,
our only home,
star orbiting, gravitational bloom of life,

in which, remember, we
join mind in mind,
using recyclable whims, thinking
peace given once, can never be untaken,
like breath, grace for grace, Chabad -
made mock of only
by those who hold lies true, fools,
seeing themselves
chosen warriors
for justice,
military minded solo scripturants
led - re educated
to believe
in the bayonet spirit
during duty programming for killers,
for killers are what duty calls heros,
pledged, soul deep
to hate others, all lying daemons
of the destructive mindset calling Christmas
either
a whole cloth fabrication
or
a message which must be authorized,
to proclaim accomplished, once
for all. Under 501-3C tax freedom
only certified
saints disciples can claim
to listen, and spew anointed mass,
listen, repeat in vain the rosary chant,
hmm. hear the apparitions told the children,
to say we see, only leave being true this story,
for the rest of your lives, or
burn in faithless shame
for not relaying the message
to be carried into battle, believed

as taught, accepted as heel-stomp proof, troof.
-on Earth…
When one becomes a true citizen… one imagined
as having peaceful access
to all the freedoms promised,
when dead to all intents and purposes,
upon successful passage through mid-life.

Breathe,
remembering indeed.

It is one's duty, in the form of gaseous we,
to breathe and remember being one,
among the current crop on Earth,
breathing  members involved
in letting peace be realized as us,
whose task is mocking gods of war.
An innocent's reaction to David Victor Hanson's reasons to trust Trumpians.

— The End —