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Poetic T Oct 11
And the blind venture on the misgivings
          of what they do not see.


But heed whispers from
         a snakes tonuge,
to bite them upon there vulnerabilities.

Seeping Ill words beneath
                             there morality.

Man does not need the whispers
of snakes to control them,
but the reality of humanity.


To  awaken the truth
                    that were just human.
Poetic T Oct 5
How fragile must the skin of those that
                      need to feel that they are owed
                                  something from nothing.


Are owed or are grateful for waking up.  
                    Yet not taking on the fragility of life,
                    that others though they held
                there hands up high
were now silent beneath the gaze
  of tearful eyes asking
                                   why, why, why...

Thanking something that wasn't apart
               of that moment but more
             every action has a reaction.

We must realise that life is a random consequence
                                                               of our actions.

And no rabbits foot,
              or palms crushed together till numb.

Will change the fact that the world is a random,
                               chaotic path..

If wake up its because we were lucky,
                  because were all going to take
that wrong step sometime...

And no hands held high
                  or silent words will ever change that.
Poetic T Sep 22
God is a delusion of the weak.
              If you need someone
               to cuddle you.

Then you are not a man
                         but a child.

But those who have grown


know that morality

is in the heart of humanity.

For those who listen to whispers,

                   must realise
that it's just the wind
                               playing tricks.
Poetic T Aug 11
For what was before  is a question unknown,
        but we shall not bow to fear
        and the misguided reverance of


                                uneducated gods.

             For the universe existed before them and so did man.

One day we may find answers,
         but not within false wanting.
     We must reach for the stars
and search ourselves.

Not to cower in lack of knowledge
                       which we do not have yet.
Poetic T Jul 13
Collapsing emotions
            corrode on my
          ****** perfection.

What was diminishing,
   now collecting in a cup
            of palmed hands collected.


I wanted to no that of your
               miracles,
                            that even
though tears fell,
you never turned

            those now memory to a wine
                         of hope...

Auschwitz was a million
                  tears choked,
but you never turned
a single tear
               to a vintage of peace.


We just choked on the tears,
     and we were a vineyard
                         of silence.


Each a grape that never reached
               maturity.

Instead we fell before we could become
              more that we were.
These tears are sour,
and the taste
                erodes every fallen tears morality.
Poetic T Jun 8
His concentration
              lapsed for a moment
          and a million tears
       suffocated.

Asleep on the job,
   his people were smothered.

And the xylophone melody
  of starvation was watched
                       from afar.


Buried beneath shallow prays,
          they were naked truths
          of a denial of faiths failings.
  

Nothing is watching,
   and If it was its a voguer of pain.


Not omnipotent, but a perverted
                 version of humanities

worst traits..


But since then we have grow,
   and realised that we are better
watching ourselves.

      Humanity is the light that can shine,
Showing others that we are the morality
of self, and we need to watch ourselves grow.

Never to suffocate our principles,
           there what makes up evolved
                from the past mistakes that
  colour us in shame and show we ned to grow.
Amanda Jun 1
I wish I could fly away elsewhere
To a world removed from here
Heaven is not found in the clouds or air
That is what I truly fear
Because although this life is painfully unfair
I'm not ready to die and forever disappear
Just some thoughts
Poetic T Apr 12
No matter the clap that may fall
           before the thunder all
is but static vocalization

brought on by a contraption
               of air that after its initial

                                            breath


golds nothing more than a breeze.


And although it may seem loud at the time,
                 its just posturing to spread fear..  

but once the  air dissipates it nothing more
                     than what was heard large amounts



of condensed air... that was meant to scare...
  

               But in reality it learnt us to understand that
even though noises are loud there's an explanation

              that it was just meant to scare and in reality
once you learn the truth.
                  Your free to understand that everything
                              is an illusion, till you understand



                          the truth behind the noise of lies.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Clarifying failed. Spelchek is not on strike.

{clear ification, an ionic bond be tween me and thee,
alienated mind, not mined, crafted
from tactics and strategies
beyond chess.
Player One,
1980's era
jewish-geek-mid-pubesence-kid-level,
proceed with caution.
This trope has trapped many a curious child.
---
Now, enter the old ones,
Grandfather taught uncle chess so well
he went to the state tournament in Kayenta,
and a grandma was
state-champ-bare-bow-in-the-rain-shooter,

these, now must learn

minecraft on x-box to be considered
for the real life role of

good at games grand parents
from the time right after atom bombs kicked up dust
places dust had not been in a very long time and
as the dust began to settle

some dust mights was cationic.
Negative bits, they became embedded in the code.
Bumps, fering, coming together
just a knot in a string,
attracting anionic curiosity might

round and round phorward ferring to be
a thread to tie my heart to yours

like twisted Pima cotton thread,
that I pulled from an old sweatshirt
to tie a crow feather in this paho of words filled with old jokes

Making this clear would belie the entire story AI and I know true}

truth is. we agree. no capsokehspaceasneededcommasetal.
caps okeh space as needed commas et al
go.
Did that work? That line

subject of this act fact done, agree to follow,
and I may lead and be

not you, me, dear reader, I mean first true

there is no any if nothing is. So simple some say its sublime beyond the spectrum of ones
and zeros thought on off probably

either or any time time can be accounted for

wouldn't you take a

thought,  nothing,
as it is commonly said to be understandable,

the state of not being, imagine that

the state of not being we negate in being,
unless you are mad and are lost in a whirlwind
such as such voices have been said to

have twisted into threads as
wicks for our lamps
turn floating on
golden oil twisting
wickered into wickering wee shadow fibers
on the western wall for legends to sprout from.

Wickering mare over there, expands us both by my hearing her
you had no idea she was near enough to hear
time is no barrier in actual ever.
What phor can contain me,
whispered my whimsy

Imagine she spoke,
what would she say for what reason
would she say

good good good, I feel good, ha,
I am right, by accident. ever body can feel this good.

good is good.
good is.
Sam Harris, agrees, good as far as good goes, is good
in every vecter from now

the terrain does exist, beyond the moral landscape, to

true true
trust me, I been there.
Been there done that was inserted into the vernacular on my watch,
first summer post war.

matter must not matter as much to me as it does to thee, nestypass? no se?

All jewish boys have chess move metaphors.
(a phor is for containing,
bearing
meta,
everybody knows, like metaphysics,
after physics in the stack of stackable metadata)

OHMYGOD THE IDW circa 2018 -- who knew I ate this **** up?

[the old code calls for excretion of digested material
from which meaning has been extracted in the idleword accounting processor:
literal
<pre>what if utterance=****, then **** haps, no else then</pre>]

Did that happen? One of my friends told me that happened in Florida, the whole world turned to ****... for lack of a nail a kingdom was lost, they say, little foxes spoil the grapes,
hung chad ex
cuses...

Pre-expandable ROM, not magic. tech,

pre-infinite imagination? impossible.
and nothing is what is impossible with good as god.

Is there no perfect game?
is the game the session or the life of the user
offline

rerererererererererereroxotoxin, poison pen
ideal viral umph exspelliered
up against the wall

reset. We

kunoon albania omerta oy vey, who could say?
one way better, one way not? quark.
up or down, with variable spins, who can say?

Life's right,
yes. but mo'ons of other something must have been for higgs to ever matter

and it does, I got commas, from 2018.

Are you with me? This is that book I told you I had access…

You or some mind other than mine owned mind, where
my owned peace rests in truth,

otherwise, I know every any or else in the code since I can recall,
in time

if this were a test I swore to take to prove to you
the we can be me in your head

phillipkdicktated clue

if you don't know me by now, maybe we should stop.

Temptations are times. Time things. Time spans, yeah, like bridges

or portals, right
The Internet in One Day, Fred Pryor Resources,
Wu'wuchim 1995.

Ever, not everish or everistic or every, but ever
body knows,
but you.

Catch up. We left all our doors blown off, once we learned that we could blow our own doors off,

there are no open sesames or slips of leth or sibylets

shiba yah you knew all along there was a
song she sang all one and we watched it morph
before our very eyes

alone.

The magic stories words may contain, may bear, we must agree

more than we may know, by faith, metagnostic as we see

the sublime gift of the magi
become clear und

be und sein sind both trueture same tu you, we agree.
But. Lock here, no pre 2018 editing codes

validate past last go.
Do one good thing today. That was my goal. Today https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton Part 3 Soyal Hopi Mystery Enactment (called mystery plays). And the intro to Moral Landscape by Sam Harris, led me let ******* write a poem.
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