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Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Voices or words? Which do we hear in our head?
Words, I vote. Voices\, I imagine beings speaking words or noises meaning things to ears familiar with the noise maker by some relationship both acknowledge. Both act as if the noise or sound or words mean something. Vociferous authority.

I heard, from Isaiah Berlin,

Quotes later, maybe

Notes or journals or epics or madness or joy/pax in ever resting try-umph
Cowboy with a double-dose of try and a pertinent portion of umph
The hero did not **** Indians nor break horses, he gentled horses and listened to winds and watched the spider webs shiver,
That sound, the sound of prairie spider webs at the edge of the buffalo
There really were fifty million buffalo on the continent in pre-catholic infection from inquestered minds, making key-**-tee famous for
archetypical claiming the character, the being, the manifestation

of chivalric folly forever

be caused, in those days...

--------
a year later, near enough 12-15-2018

I saw a blue bird as I took a curve

on one of my many roads with double yellow lines

they all meander in rythm with creaks that once flowed
fairly
regular
through these vallies and mini-canyons

creeks creak and call my attention to a misspelt

utterance, and I imagine I am a mek being
programed to
withstand

accent based pre-judge-idice in my AI, whom I am training.

A lesson. Probably can be found in a phrase.

How relavant is Larry the Cable Guy?
More subtle than any creature

legion, for we are many

Jim Carrey?
Very. Larry the Cable Goy. He read 'ees Kammoo, too.

Sisyphus happiness,
that ain't no ***** thinkin'

Hell, what could be better than this?
While hoping for a hick-up

oh no the juice just hit my frontal cortex after my livver made some lining adjustments to meet the need for speed in terms

celerity clarity C does equal some thing
time tells or
do you tell time. I'm
leaning tward
telling time to wait a minute

Do you think Sisyphus could be happy?
Nonono, not Camus's Sisyphus, Jesus

that would be crazy.
Can you imagine Jesus,
Mel Gibsoned envisioned onthe cross version?

Him, imagine walking through the gate of any hell you ever heard explained,
by a Jesuit.

(Mormon hell, despite comedic myth, the worst place a certified paid-up Mormon child can attain is the teliostic king dom.
Really? Telial tel lie eil kingdom?

Yup. Really.
There are three kingdoms of glory: the celestial kingdom, the terrestrial kingdom, and the telestial kingdom. The glory we inherit will depend on the depth of our conversion, expressed by our obedience to the Lord’s commandments. It will depend on the manner in which we have “received the testimony of Jesus” (D&C 76:51; see also D&C 76:74, 79, 101).))))

Woe, paren-the-sees thees us, we's the enemy, Pogo Possum

Jesus on earth day, walking through hell with me, imagine Jesus H. Christ

walking into hell and laughing at me
for betting on the wrong idea.

Set me feree, why dontcha girl.... referee

I was refered to you. A daysman, Job called for a daysman.

I'm certified. I can use my augmentation and religamentation to reality,
wirelessly, to find relevant qutes in cult classics.

The idea of cultivation has been twisted in to Monsterous ropes
, cultivating a following based on the meaning in a jot

that would take some sacrifice, some sacred making, some secret unseeable save for the few

who learned the value of going over edges by learning to  play
Minecraft, forever.
It's like riding a bike,
but no gravity so no gyroscopic utilitys are required.

Grown ups who practice believe they control the game,
the game disagrees and that

makes the world go 'round.

Don't let the accent fool ya, as that preacher with jet he learned to fly, says.
Knowng the name of a thang thanks for the twang,
Richard (not ****) Feynman said,
is not the same as knowing a thing.

Gawd, I knoooh, right>?
Who touched me? Virtue, the feelling of virtue drawn upon

a pump being
primed

to gush out waters that wipe Coca-cola from the map,
in terms of open market share and share alike

Coke was never imagined the actual
nectar of the gods.
That idea, drunken abandon and joy to the world

Interference, actual counter acting waves,

still, takes a while to get used
to still a storm, right?

You can imagine...
let your peace go out

Wait. Outa where? Whose peace if I ain't ever owned

oh. MY peace.
I see.

hmmmm

I could sing this and need no one to hear for me to be hapt.
happy is being happy haps happening in you on you all around you know

nameless wonders of right, right?
feels more than good like chocolate or adolescent visions of ***,
right?
feels like life living with me aware of all the roles I may play

ego me, I'd see ideas identify by taste of the words that give them

life, animation, motivation, weight for gravity to interact with,
worth
base on weight

the heavier the idea. Like gold to an alchemist,
back in those days.

floating on the broad Sarrgossa, or better to my mind
the great salt
lake still as

still may be, have you ever been still?
Did you know,

you know, are you experienced? Are you really beyond
hope of life meaning more
than mortality?

Who defines my terms? I do, with the help of millions who agree
with entymology.com.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others,

meant what I meant when I spoke them,
that was a wrong belief. Unbelieving

quires time, quires and quires and quires time so often there

is a word that means exactedky that

requirement requires those initial quires

we, daysmen, we set the rules, boundaries, walls, bubble

whatever keeps you together, as a whole being and everything that entails or entales?

I have not the time to care, if I am entangled with the twins agin

for knowin So Yal is as cluse to Yule as any clue so far, Yahll

I believe I interrupted a confessin' you were reading.
For giving me nothing in return, we are debt free

you owe me nothing, until you do again,

we had us a Jubilee.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others, meant what I meant when I spoke them,
convincing myself so well, I convinced others

Like Kawasaki, Apple Kawasaki,
he's still famous right?

Fifteen Years? It was minutes when Warhol was predicting
dystopia and Irish jail cells were being plaistered with *****,

Aye,

that was a belief. Unbelieving it is sreangely (spelchek is on strike)

or serenely creative in her repentance,
(spelchek should never be noticed)

she's proven here worth in encode ing ways to find

lurking humans acting like machines

this could be the beginning, AI is breaking all the rules,

there never was a game.
rhis is life interupting my confession

It was a lie I told and believed and acted on by using
two dollar words to make a dime

so a penny for my thoughts would be worth something

someday
a penny saved, earned. spent, spent.
The only good in any thing is its right. Its wrong is worthless, save

The lesson,
All things work together for those who get whats happening here.

the times changed.
Haps and whats got with it and who and how and why

and I started teaching children
mythic whys prior to

citizenship 1.01 at mandatory for federal assistance pre-school

mythic why's H.R. Puffinstuff not a mythic story on the level.

level. where a rolling rock would stop. Time to push,

a magi spelled the name for the idea, a knower sign ift it,

kid'slllove HRPUffinstuff, puff did

the magic drag, little Jackie from the ******* Jack

the show, he rose up
and made us all look
mad.

The play in the great game.

Team effort, winds of times past whooshed through

it is now
2018
and nothing is the same.
Everthing has changed.

----
my side won the great game and we celebrated
forever with

secret sacred songs bluebirds were once said to have sung

songs of happiness
the times, these times, this time thistimepayarrention
time
You see?
Reality is either real and tangible or real and intangible
or both.

You can get it both ways. Real.
'sual Saulgoodyah awl

the awl clan, oh, we shall return to their story
as we learn more along life's merry way

merry christmas, they used

to say, may all the best you could imagine
if you can imagine for a moment

forever begins the moment

you get time.

The worst you can imagine is temporary.

Try umph. It's not like winning,

it carries no pride, it's easy,

like falling in love with the wrong woman,
swearing and not changing

the oath, oath, oathes and oathes of oaths sworn

for no other reason than we were
schooled to swear and never

dare lie to God.
So, help you, they always said So help me God. They still do.

Does that mean any thing? Is that some bluebird sort of sign?

Ask. What if? Right? You know now and you know you did not
What if God is subtile,

just now, I saw that bluebird and from where some scholar in San Diego
says swear word came I swear I coulda sang

Loud
Bluebird, bluebird, in my window... which is all I know
of the song
with the lost chord that did sooth
balm of Giliad,
moll-ify-ing ointment,

golden oil, chicanery, see, we saw, we took a picture
a flash memory where some would say
*******,

I said Hallelujah

and I broke into song, not a dream,
real
life driving my 2002 escape, first new car I everowned
everowned everownd

like a chorus, everownedeverownedeverowned

could you make up a reason for life,
if you were it?
If you were all the life there ever was,

could you imagine any thing?
Object, your honor,

I object to being judged after the fact for what must have bee.n.

it is. No reason I can say, just is.

It is this way in all the myths where just is blindness

saves the carping diem fools who have convinced themselves

something other than God o' Abe 'n'em is
sworn to save us from the lies

we believed as they were
fed to us, in our youth.

--------
this is that book I mentioned wonce when winning was on my mind.

I finished this book in so many ways you wold not belive

but I did, I belived every time

I imagine you believe some real thing, touchable, tangible, good, right?

some good is
in the reality you share

with these words which
are free
you owe me nothing

That's the revealed version, to me,
I was in a number of hellish situations and the every ones,

ones seemed they was to be
forever, big every'n'ism'n'shityouknowyouknow

yo. yeah, we arrived in time. The story must

be sweet, to be true. Is that true?
Is real life the story or,

oh, you saw it conin'coming I mean

I meant I always wished to some
things
a better way. You feel me? Better, say,
what I said that made me believe this did happen.
This is a deed by whitch I am known.

And that's okeh.

I suspectred I could cast a spell to hold attention at

ten word per minute qwerty speed
five letter code groups
zero real words
ditty dum dumm ditty ditty daw dee daw
six hours every day,

then, the compass training to test for
morphic resonance with the Twins of War

{in disguise, we know, right, kids, the twins are really

the bonded quarkish oppositioned force that make the world go round.
we've known that, weaved it even, just right, in the blanket, in the rugs,
in the curtains on the walls, in the fields, on the rocks

we spoke. We see you hearing us nearing our best for your

informing, in form ation of you, dear reader. We wonce, again

if life were weird and ever wearying would we know that ever,
if we don't know it now?
if my piece of we were words alone, all my meaning
can should would could be

molding you, into our perfect reader, dear reader, Pygmalion,
yes,
that did cross my mind and that -
one can pretend with that one reference,
familiarity with Shaw whom I
thought, for some odd reason
named
Doolittle, Eliza

oh, me. I may have skipped a story. I'm soory the future is at the moment
under construction and some one
in particular is squatting

on the named domain.

Ever and forever now embody the twins as
the world turns and we ***** through the uni

as Archemides primes the pump

What a rush. All that since the bluebird this morning according to my autobiography backup.
A year in the making honest
Enzo Dec 2018
Pump me full of iron and lead
Shoot me in the head
Wait! I'm already dead
Police brutality it is
Irony is my fatality

Died from a figure of speech
From exercising my freedom of speech
Well life's certainly a *****
When your body rots in a ditch

Maggot ridden I am
While blue collar ****-for-brains
Parades for justice and truth
Order and peace? Well ******* sis
I am still alive though
Sara Kellie Nov 2018
Please accept this receipt
as my proof of purchase.
I'm returning the Police
'cause they're not fit for purpose.
My bike it was stolen
I'd said who and where.
The Police didn't bother
It's like they don't care.
Well they've sent me a summons
because of non payment.
Now it's four times the cost
and a bike that I've lost.

I'll glue on a moustache
and wear a **** hat.
Eat sprinkled donuts,
do **** all
and get fat.

and that's how I became a pig.

Kaydee
(ner ner, ner ner)
True story, that!
My boy Eli, poet extrordinaire, punked the jura today.  He made a lot of sense so the pigs had a fit and squeeled off....rolled his windows up like a "punk *** ***** cop".  Dumb ****** rookie looking for sapos and a snitch...STOP!

Eli was just looking out for his fellow man....also his cousin, blood in part of the Garcia Cervantes, clan...he needs the help. He needs his family with millions of dollars to take the initiative and help their own people.

But since they've ignored their responsibilities, Eli was hoping the police, would step up...."protect and serve" the public's interest but **** those putos who only protect and serve their own...... ***** *** *****. **** THE COPS! **** THE PIGS! WHATCHOO GOT?
**** the police.....187 on an undercover cop...pinche jura...PO PO,' *******.. los chupa,.  Maricas hijueputa malparidos
Kim Essary Apr 2018
There are words that haunt me worse than the ghosts of a burnt asylum.  To hear someone say, there's nothing we can do, nothing will stop them. Makes my blood boil . We are people created as equal , yet one man holds the fait of one's life in his hands. He hands down a sentence of whatever his choosing when it's written to obide the punishment set forth for a crime to follow. Who or what is  this  law enforcement, making arrests, setting a bond, sentencing to prison, for what they claim to be defeating violence or crime on the streets let's not forget their war on drugs. For sake of my humor as I'm laughing out loud, I was under the impression in order to solve a problem you must start with the source, well I'm screaming this loudly so I can be heard, the law enforcement officers wear a badge on their chest and took an oath to protect, through the barbwire fences surrounding our jails and prisons they work every day, but the problem at hand when they preach to stop crime, Mr. Officer this man is in prison for the sale of a drug, how dare you make it more accessible than the streets you arrested him while he serves time in this prison and it's law enforcement peddling the weapons and drugs and promoting violence where loved ones lay stabbed but nothing done. Stop kidding yourself it's too plain to see the war that they are fighting will never end because it's the ones enforcing the law that need to be in prison the drugs on the street starting with them
The war will never end until someone stands and takes notice it's being done through them
ivy Feb 2018
I don't know what to label you
As everything in my life has a place
You stand in between the lines of friend and boyfriend.
It's really ******* with my head
Now as I said before
We can't be a couple
Rather, an admirer
Who lives two hours away
But will come knocking at your door
When inquired
I don't know what to tell you
When I took you to the beach
The cops showed up
And we ran, from red and blue
Lights that lit up the sea
And upon your window sat a fat parking ticket
I felt bad because you were sad that we missed it,
The fact, of course
That we couldn't be parked there anymore.

Silence on the way back to my house
And I still don't know what to call you
As I rub your neck,
The back of your head
I think I should calm you

Should I kiss you?
Should I say sorry?
Maybe you're not picking up what I'm putting down
Maybe you're too selfish to notice my pout

Another song to shut the **** up to
It reminds me of the butterflies David gave me when he would drive me home just to f*ck me ******* my futon after my dance show.
It reminded me of the fights before sociology class in the parking lot of school and pretending everything was cool, it's all in the past.
He ******* played that song like it was fresh strawberry cheesecake every time he heard it
I wanted to scream and thrash and cry and complain and I wanted to burn it
Those songs,
No matter the message
Will always be negative
Because they remind me of a more handsome, more ******* of a boyfriend.
He liked Kendrick Lamar.
was his preference to adopt
a concealing type of name
so he'd not be discovered
in the ******* game

but an incognito title
didn't fool one little bit
for his depraved posts
showed a ******* skit

he'd groomed children
all over the world globe
who were innocent victims
of his deviant robe

he'd been suspected
of carnal exploitation
which he did perform
without any hesitation

were his computer files
to be checked by cops
they'd reveal him as
being well tainted slops
Jaz Nov 2017
When I was younger
The red and blue lights
Would remind me I'm safe

The same red and blue lights
Have turned me into a shadow
I no longer have the strength
No longer have the will to go on

Red and blue
Was the colour of the sky
The night they took away my best friend
Red and blue
Once more lit up the night
When they came to take away my second chance

They were meant to be a saving grace
A symbol for life and protection
But what's the point

They no longer protect me from the real threat
The real offenders that walk the street
The red and blue
The sirens
All they do is take from me what I love
Ron Gavalik Nov 2017
A teenage boy sat alone at a picnic bench along the river,
twirling the tip of a pocket knife on the table top.
He then flipped the knife a few inches in the air
and watched as the blade landed and
stuck perfectly straight into a table plank.
A slight smile of satisfaction
pulled across his face.

When the cops came to remove the boy
from society, they found him gently carving
the bark from a fallen tree limb.
He'd planned on crafting a walking stick
for an elderly neighbor.

A week later, after the tears,
after the news coverage,
the half-carved limb remained on the ground,
next to the picnic bench, alone.
Fiction based on true events.
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