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Ken Pepiton Feb 12
Look out,
across time, go
windborn in our mind being,

look out,
into the depths of ever being,

rethink the processes time used,
reimagine the silence at the moment.

All for us to have our own being in,
confined in common sense of the we
the one we of us since ever was a time,

before now, and later, still,
this same concurrency of events…

our crossing point in time.

Instants of peaceable knowing, growing
into states of conscious knowing use.
Hexambicality, six points from any center leaves seven total points.
Any point made remains made... a little here, a little there, precept reception.
When pain becomes too great
That pain swallows you whole
Your only scapegoat to blame
Is own forsaken soul

Your mechanism for sleep
Is poisoning your lungs
Be freed of shadows following your feet
All responsibilities and past what you want

When finally you have to fight your fears
In your struggle miss my face
Stay the hell away from here
Complain to heart you didn't break
Written 2-13-21
Go away, somewhere deep inside
Far away, like the direction of my eyes

It'll be all a dream. Blurry, bright, pale white then dim.
K Nov 2023
I’m sorry, I’m sorry I am not gonna make it to our dinner plans on Saturday. I had something else to do.

I’m sorry I am not gonna make it to the party on Friday. I had something else to do.

I’m sorry I am not gonna make you breakfast on Sunday. I had something else to do.

And what I’m mostly sorry for is I am not gonna be able to kiss you tonight love or the night after that, or the night after that, I had to go and I couldn’t say goodbye.
Kyla Nov 2023
They said they couldn't stay
I don't know how to feel
My soul taken away

Rain fell hard that day
I don't know how to heal
They said they couldn't stay

Their love they took away
Hard for my heart to deal
My soul taken away

I tried and tried to sway
Convinced their love was real
They said they couldn't stay

I watched them walk away
My existence became surreal
My soul taken away

There is nothing I can say
As I eat my final meal
They said they couldn't stay
My soul taken away
Jellyfish Nov 2023
I'd love to wake up
As a strum in the air
From one lonely girl's song
about how much she cared

She'd appear melancholic
On the side of a road,
Well not exactly the road
She's in a field off on her own

She strums and sings
Letting the wind take away
Every memory and pain
She's experienced throughout
Her days

"I'll run away,
So far you won't see where
My footsteps end- I'll take a train
To the ocean and fly so high"

She makes you feel something inside
You try to meet her in the middle
But didn't realize just how tall the field would be,
so you follow her somber melody

You find the key to her guitar case,
She left it behind, but left no trace
Of which way she went
You still hear her humming

But sit instead and that is why,
She got up and left.
You heard her but did not care to chase after her
Danielle Sep 2023
We've built a house like we recognize each other's walls, we felt safe on every corner where we familiarize ourselves too well; it's the anatomy of us. Our limbs where we cling to were as fragile as the heart I sculpt its own cracks, This body is malleable, it just grew mimicking what the others have— the fragments of what I love, my flesh, my soul and my curve haven't left untouched.

I shouldn't have grown into you, like this body doesn't belong to myself anymore.
Danielle Sep 2023
"As if I was gone away, too far not to yearn from the distance."

The sound of home away from home
is a wake up call on a dismal Sunday morning. It keeps telling me that I have to go but you are still lingering on every corner of this room, you are the faintest light through a window pane as it kindles me out of the dark (somehow).

I wonder how the traffic jams and
the hums of people on the street would bring you home, the crevices of the floor memorize the gaits and creaks of your footsteps, as if it's a map to our place. And how the furniture recognizes the shape of you as your memories are carved on it.

But I wonder why the sound of home away from home is telling me that it's time to go.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2023
Traces of others,
other
beings, in this now, ours, yours
his, hers, each
other
an other mind with a me and you
as other wise.

When I thought of you, then
I thought of me, of us, as a we,
agreeing,
aggressively gratifying a curiosity, a we
some grace makes possible, put right,
here at now,
awesome, not unmazing, not taking out,
not loosing in diabolic twists from known, no.

Now, in all time,
way out there where our augmented eyes stare
into the light of day, way, way far away, out there

where when is moot,
now is all the time we made, by being willing
to wander down a stack of words all lined up, pretty.
The privilege, the personal enjoyment, I take, from this time we live in, at the edge of print, to use words to soothe any ache of wasted years... I think prayer is probably not what it was first thought to be...
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