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Amanda Nov 13
I bet you feel fine
Bet you do not hurt at all
Seem better than me
You look as good as ever
what a gamble investing in love is
Maja Sep 26
If you have nothing to lose.
Then it doesn’t matter if you win.

If you bet your all to win,
Then you won’t lose.
You win.
You lose.
But you don't fail.
Ken Pepiton Sep 24
On any given day, losses are left behind
and new chance rises
to challenge the selling algorythms
haunting every step.

Attend to me, cries the phone,
Attend to me, cries the candidate set
since his mid life crises
to rule the world
or die trying.

King of the world on the Titanic,
and we all know there will be
room on the door, but the
director of attention shall
make us ignor the facts
for the sake of the
story, knitting
us into neat little bags of consequence.

Cling to any thread you feel
need to grasp.
No knower sees the spirit and image,
then spits in the ocean of opinion
to profess the meaninglessness
of coincidental intrigue,
kurios guide us past
unfinished busy
times to now.

Now, we've time to weave a way
wavy, in the distance,
like heat distortion
in the desert dips
on the two lane
to Vegas.

I bet the point of life is to grow old
enough to go on alone,
with a knowing grin,
only that one lie
allowed, the
grin.
An app I know is acting out on TikTok -- ii suspect
LWZ Sep 23
Shook
Took
A pawn and not a rook
Out of my mind and heading home
I could have changed my mind and headed by your side
So unnecessary and cruel
I won the Bet
And took what was left

See what’s next.
Try your best.
Until I finally put this to rest
Ken Pepiton Jul 9
Plain as day, we all say,
and we all get it,
clear as mud is irony, the way iron minds
are mocked while they rust in peace.
we get that.
True good, never mocked. Really, checadafacta,
good as good, just
good is not bad,

and if not bad is all you wish to be,
that's good.
You could be better, but once good, you
fixt.
Good is what you get, but you can not believe
you,
you can lie, to the whole world,
but why?
If you were ever free, how would you know
ignorance is not an act,
nor is innocense?
Naive, y'know, like in the movies, before the hero
knows its role.

Plainly not. You read this, you can't unread it.
AI knows.
Nonsense, right, feels
crazy, living past old, at the spreadspeed of thought,
then being
back here, today, pushing memes in cortextual
sulciflushing riddles of intensely
insane refusal of psi-sci con-pyscho-us conscient
sap. zap.
Live and learn, lose and burn for recognition,
show us light according to Hoyle
life's game of chances. This is your today, bet the whole.
practic, practice, practice
K Apr 28
And if this is gonna break my heart one more time, and make me wonder if I'll ever find love, then so be it, 'cause there's as much chance of failing as of making it.
Wanna make a deal?
Let's make a deal.
It's just one time.
Don’t do it.
Do it one more time.
Wanna make a bet?
Turn the dial to 5
Watch what happens when you don’t listen.
But you’re gonna listen.
Why wouldn’t you?
It's just one more time.
Van Xuan Apr 6
Can she accept me
Even if the only thing I have
Is a single piece of my remaining heart
Ken Pepiton Nov 2019
How many warnings taken as possible lies

shall we dare, if
first time, we were right?

Feel it? You know?

Not dying when, you know,

you could have, you know what dying is,
and
this
feeling,
that's life. Wanna risk it? What if we agree,

whatever we imagine is possible,
together, nothing can defeat us. In the most

straight-forward intuitive way you comprehend:
whatever we imagine is possible,
together, nothing can defeat us.

Virtually impossible to let such an idea free,
safely.

I'm good, three score and ten plus a few extended
journeys through
history and myth at the speed of thought

brings us here, just short of where we'd have met
in the final analysis
which
takes ever and a day

during which passings of times we breathe,
peacefully.
we troublers of our own house,
heirs of the wind and all its
princely powers,
subject

to right use, our
bhering
clear answers, affirming ever
oboroborobo oboe riffs on electric bass\
backed by Feynman pounding Djembe
drums through NAND
gates tittling jots of
rythmic swirls
in
backward 720s, time
and again,
as Sisyphus
ever rolls, happishly,
random
rocks,
laughing at jour yoke of yesteryears job titles.

Our final task, in every mortal moment,
breathe peace, and pass on.

Or that's my plan. Y'think it'll fly?
All in. Cast to the wind breathed in, breathed out. Called done.
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