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Ken Pepiton Sep 2024
Theandric
Relating to, or existing by,
the union of divine and human
operation in Christ, or the joint agency
of the divine and human nature…

in any ever after, timeless nature is thinkable,
first peaceable, gentle, easily made easy with,
free as the wind
true rest in coincidence, yes, the actual idea,
yes in opposition to no, and working together,
stirring in whole new precepts to judge with,
chaos and beauty, stormy weather and calm,
tobe ra', post internet literate inventory bots,
aiaiai
what could I have known,
had I read then what I read today, had it been
thinkable back in the times we made order,
made muscles remember qwerty gestures, ai,
as if we have a genius for testing best easy ways,
we build on each easier way, we meander theandric,
- as it is written whosoever is a grand inclusion
androautomatical informational intelligence leg-ends
collections of meaningful reasons for faith usage.
Garbs of right uses,
lose all value,
naked.
True.
Idleness at days end, gloaming sophist tries,
means of matching first impressions, is it real,
or Memorex, tell me wordless window watcher.
Watching infants gain first order for search
oh how happy we shall be, when we know our
ABC-DE
mmmmhmm four square frame of reference,
Hollies, look through any window/

now, I am the grandfather, proud, with no hubris,
as salt with no savor, good for preserving old paths.

Leave it be, today, I made these remarks,
at the same time something happened everywhere.

And now, these times of constant entertaining
information acquisition with intention
expand
to graphically appear in the mind of any ever
who ever rewatched "My Octopus Friend"

and American Utopia, and the Last Waltz,

Class action inclusive bubble develops, but now,
we stretch, was my grand father low or middle brow?

How long was America MAGA ablized, rooted

Caliche, soft lime, left deep ruts where braked
wagons ground recessed groves, we could see,

those mostly got eroded away after a century.

My grandfather rode from Sweetwater to Williams,
on horses he tamed and made useful,
on horses his father shod, and taught him to shoe,

such knacks as smith's must grow to feel known,
to any degree as fine as tempering spring steel,

using modified fires of inner solar ovens,
the size of the point of the smallest star you see.

Spot welding aitia precepticonical connection,
where chata left a gap open to chabad concoctions.
The itch to be read once, is almost addictive... but we are the first humans with this degree of global agreement starting whims of why not just say it like this...
Emery Feine Sep 2024
Twisting, tingling, spinning water
Rushing past to **** the old man's daughter

Glaring, entrancing, burning fire
Scorching the skin of priest o' sire

Twirling, whirling, spinning air
Leaving man's house behind with only a scare

Crushing, rumbling, shaking earthquake
That is how 782 families had to wake

The screams from the thunder storm
Were heard all throughout town
And that kind woman went to take her children inside
When a lightning strike came crashing down

I had always been so sure
That nothing like that could happen to me
Until one day while on a sandy beach
I saw a tsunami coming from the sea
this is my 32nd poem, written on 10/3/23. it was originally supposed to be abt the beauty of nature and then it turned into this so idrk
Magi Candelaria Sep 2024
Mother Nature shouted… Enough! Enough!
You need to slow down, be still, be quiet.
I need to breathe.
You are so ungrateful for all the gifts I have given.
I am exhausted and need to rest.
She had tried to get our attention before; earthquakes,
Tornados, locusts. Even the tsunami had little effect on us.
So she unleashed Pandemia and the world was silent.
The world was silent for days.
The days turned into weeks, turned into months.
The foxes came out to play.
Blue returned to the sky.
The fishes returned to the rivers.
Will we remember to be thankful?

   — Magi
Yvette Cerdon Sep 2024
I wish the earth
Had spun less
When you turn around
So I could take one more glances
Or spun more
So it could disconnect
Your eyes that captured
My soul
Ylzm Sep 2024
In the death of death, created,
In mutual annihilation
Of stars, collapsed and collided:
Gold; buried but not corrupted,
In the earth but not of earth,
Unstained and incorruptible;
A mere symbol, void of value
But idolatry's very roots;
As in reverence for just a name
Without knowledge of what's a name
Or a person's but an image,
For spirit's imperceptible
And unknowable in the flesh.
Douglas Balmain Sep 2024
Forget our sterile strains of green,
soft, choking lawn.

Forget our fertilizers, chemicals,
and killers.

Let our families relearn to walk
with nothing between the Earth
and their bare feet.

Let us remember the native seed.
Red Aug 2024
I buried a bird at sunset
To teach its elder’s some respect
As bundles of familiar feathers swooped
singing scornful songs of incomplete youth
I knew where they’d been at time of death.


I denied the cat the flightless fallen body
Siblings guarding silently as I tore up flower beds
With a piece of broken tile and old weeds left in a pile
Solemn is the hand that carves the final nest.


I buried them with nothing more than three sprigs of lavender,
& fluffy baby feathers splattered with dirt
I wished only empty bellied, good-hearted scavengers
Would carry them to a better nurturing earth.


Tucked into blankets of leaves and mud
I wondered what god they feared, if any
Tying twisted twigs together with reeds & blood
a wonky cross to tell the worms they’re ready.


Loud is the crying fowl that pushed the flightless
Like pitted berries bulging through drooling chins
A clumsy stork is unburdened by lightness,
like the absence of young wings in the wind.


I hope when I am weak in breath & bone
With no children nor chirping to mourn my vessel empty
Someone might lay me down with three sprigs of lavender & a stone

And wonder what god I feared, if any.
Cutezeni Aug 2024
Stars await the moon to turn its gaze
Away from the earth towards the sun, the centre of the solar system
It is solar and not the earth system
He is not the sun, but a black hole that draws the moon towards him
How he tugs her at once, but she keeps her space
She feels the growing distance in their space
So she looks towards the vast universe in awe and envy
She has been trained, she is ready
And wants to depart but he says not today.
Moon baby (not)
Valentine Aug 2024
you never noticed
the houses
littering the field
you grew up watching
from the backseat of
your parent's van
until the moment
you looked left and right
at the stop sign
and realized
your favorite angle of
the mountains
where you could see
the brook
between the pines
form a jagged line
down down down
covered up by
a dozen miserable
4 bedroom 2 bathroom
greyscale houses
Valentine Aug 2024
The earth calls me home
Whistles my name and claps toward the woods
Her tangy voice rings through the elms
Suppertime is swiftly approaching

The world hides me under her tongue
Raining down saliva that burns the eyes
Deeper into her cave I dive
Acid bubbling down my throat

Nature collects my body
Another trophy placed in her burrow
Burying us all further and further
She sings hymns every day above our graves

And though we pretend this song isn't sweet
Humming along
We all fall into the pit
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