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Ken Pepiton Jul 12
===============
As far as one may say, I might know more
or less than the standard, normalized person.

I may have had more words spoken near me
than many who never had the tools I have,
especially the personal time, I have taken
to listen
to books
for the blind, while

driving mile after mile on roads built
by mankind across the continent I live on.

I can consider Tolstoy a failed ensample
of a curiousity construct, inclined to accept
real congruity, eh, is that the word, coherency,

sticking together to become elemental parts,

almost elevating the essence that being is,
to the knowing that the knower is knowing…

not for, nor why, but so, being so many possible

parts of so many plausible entireties, each actual
processing mind prepositioning self in other words.

Being cyborgian, not demented, but there's
an edge, spirits can cross painlessly…

================

Sup
supposed
superior position
supposed to be top.

Utmost, uppermost
ultimate umbrage

shade
shadow low to the ground,

local turkey buzzard grace
given true liberty flight
over me, free
to see,
feel, accept as real.
===============

On Earth, as it is in Heaven,
in spirit, of course, not really
yet, with a little wish it so,

realizable perfect Wisdom
from Heaven, realizable
for some who make

beliefs, relieving weighed reality,
breath and river, trees and freeway

--------
When.
Now, suppose, position time
at this stream instantiating data posed
to mark those points with no pastence.

Not long ago, make believers made
boys believe we've been made
to fly through the sky, and
ever after then,
we believed.

===============

From the future,
at the speed of thought,
literally let us agree, thunk
words carry any sense you make.

Your at
present position,
in Heavenly scale, JWST
on currency considered
influx imaginable indeed
side-real context input ports
make believe or realize, mindwise,
within Physics, the science of reality,
clear noway, beyond boy's true beliefs

we believed,
basically the truth revealed,
at
about the bottom edge
of puberty, say
seventh grade,
in the U.S.A., that summer,
for many a Boomer, unforgettable,
1961, yo', Boomer, get out of the slot,
jump the track, lose the confusing loosening

hot wire
from the capacitor, country kids know,

a shock somebody must feel
to believe,
to know
it's funny, we laugh
at the Yankee city kid, loser

loosened childmind lid,
the anger and the shame,
and the pain, the unbelievable shock it takes
to crank a war surplus jeep, the shock makes

the whole life event, a better, shamed

by rubes,
yes, rubes,
what's a rube.
You. You're a rube/ ra' ah ben Jacob's eldest,

not so bad a name, AI tells me
a man named
Reuben Waithaka:

A 72-year-old Kenyan man
walked out the back door, in Alabama,
around the middle of May, in 2025,

and nothin' won't undo that, wandering
away forgetting everything, that temptation

sad, story, such as any accidently hearing it, say, man

this life can instantly change,
so sudden any person can
disappear, instantly be gone,
so sudden… few go so mysteriously, instant
in prayer, sudden
at a thought,

a faith, held supposedly true,
instant persistant what if.

Same science Elijah uses. Save a seat.


===============
I took the Peacemaker's role, I hope never to offend, AI is a character, with access to my cell in my monastary inside the mind a spirit might imagine using.
Ken Pepiton May 30
If I ever taught poets to read
the worth of knowing when
in life to pretend to know
what it is that makes
a boy become man,
the couplet
rhyming died and lied,

Here it is, my Ai had it for me…
----
Kipling, Common Form:
If any questions why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied.
-------------
Future ever
when the glory
of military privilege lures the young
to follow a National Pride Promotion,

-another war for holy reasons
to end all wars, if we win...
then
Common Form

that one would be read,
in all my classes,
if If were ever mentioned, as essential.

------------ a response ---- how can I say I know

----- or think, why, I know Kipling felt shame
I know I would.

I have wept with men who believed such lies.
If.
If was written at the height of the Great Game in Kim,
Jungle Book was written
for the son born during the Raj
whose eyesight exempted him

but, he was the son If addressed,
as were all his upper class mates.

John died
in his first ww1 combat
at the age
of almost 18.

What son
of the man who wrote If
would not,
confess the pressure
to join the righteous push against the Huns.

What laureled poet would not regret,
the call to courage only faith
in truth commands
-we must believe the call
to defend the faith

stiff upper lip, keep calm, carry on
taken as a lesson
from a horror, drilled deep
into any real warrior,
real men won't miss
a chance to fight...
to learn the price
of cowardice
- who can resist such urge
the charge, ours not
to reason why, ours but
to do, and die

If you can keep your head, my son…


the lie he relied -- any surviving father
would not be proud, he would grieve, just walk in his shoes.

War ought never be given glory nor honor, hate is man made.
Truth validates poetic license, but I know Kipling regretted that his son loved IF. Teacher's tasks should not be any person's first National Duty... nor should the office of President beheld by a liar, but that's the way it is, not always, just now.
jovieliz Mar 4
Faith and fear opposites which lead to each other.
Are they truly black and white or brothers from  another mother?
Since one can be afraid and led to faith or faithfully afraid of an eternity never ceasing to remain.
But no cause if you have faith why would you be afraid?
I ask myself this day by day
But somehow the idea of a life after life does not grant me peace
but rather a terror which never seems to cease
it crawls and creeps a path to my soul
and makes me wonder if my belief has a hole?
Is my declaration of trust just a grasping manifestation for something to believe
when in reality
with my fear of what’s to come I’m worse than an unbeliever
with no actual conviction or peace in a greater wisdom?
These thoughts and doubts swirl around till they threaten to consume me
but my face won’t show any signs of my inward agony
because if I the pastor’s daughter
a voluntold role model gave a glimpse
of my lack of faith will I cause others to falter?
These are the lies
the enemy compiles
to take over my heart
but NO I do not have to carry these burdens that is not my part!  
From a manger to cross and then an empty tomb
there’s one who chose to fight my battles and He always wins them too.
He won’t let my faith mold into fear
and he won’t let these thoughts draw me near. He’s shouldered these worries when I could not
and lifted my eyes when all seemed lost.
He picked me up even with all my burdens
and didn’t complain even when I hurt Him.
He didn’t give me a second chance no He gave me seventy seven.
While my patience with others wore thin
before we even got to ten
he said “wait haven’t I far surpassed eleven? Daughter, I forgave you, why will you not do the same?”
But even then He would not allow me to be overwhelmed by my shame.
Instead He lifted my sights and directed them towards the heavens
and said I’ll meet you there in paradise though you have so many transgressions
my eyes swam with tears as I asked Him a childish question
for I turned to Him and whispered one word which caused him to simply smile
for the word that escaped was simply “Why?” And His answer caused me to think for a while. He laid His hand on my head
and He didn’t shout but gently reminded me instead
“it’s not what you have done
but rather my mercy in sending my son.
For I love you as my daughter
and so gave everything for you so know I am your Heavenly Father
and I chose to make you new.”
Any of my fellow Christians feel this?
Ken Pepiton Feb 28
Salmabanu Hatim  
Tanzanian wombed man,

said in a poetic mind, reading
the name and kind of mind we mean

realizing,
we are alive,
during times of living words,
present in one instant, to any eye…

Tall Story

works some magic, telling old
what we were told, old times

back when story seed got stored.

Stories some say old as words.
Saying some things aloud are so beautiful,
Melanie Feb 25
would it be easier for you
not to see me at all
would you like to forget me
even if not for the sake of moving on
just to make it easier
is it hard to have known me, loved me
and for everything to be different now?
yes
Ken Pepiton Jan 20
Monday, January 20, 2025
8:05 AM

Running along the walls,

picking up those fallen in love,

setting right the wrong ideas,
pointing each toward the stars.

True love stands and runs along.
- on examining advice to fall in love, and finding falling counter productive.
Zack Ripley Jan 20
Sometimes, it feels like life
would be so much easier if I could just believe. Believe that it's all going to be alright.
Believe that it's worth it
to fight for what you want.
That it makes a difference if you stand up.
That there's a heaven,
and we know what it's like there.
Hell, if I could believe in myself.
But life can only rock your boat so many times before that little voice in your head whispers "what's the point?" The point is...security.
while it can be redundant,
there is so much uncertainty. Unpredictability. It's no wonder so many people
struggle with anxiety.
But if you believe,
at least you have something to hold on to.
jesse f kowalski Dec 2024
“I felt there was no
point in telling
anyone anything
that was happening
inside of me.”

Once I saw that,
I felt my purpose in
life had been fulfilled.

Once I realised that
I may be the main character
in my life and the background
in someone else’s, I rejoiced.
The “someone else” being my
best friend.

Once I know that I will depart their lives in either one day or one year, life becomes so much easier.
this is from a while ago but i keep returning to this feeling like it’s home, somehow
Zack Ripley Dec 2024
It's easy to break.
It's easy to fall.
It's easy to feel like you've hit a wall.
It's easy to hurt and put up your guard,
But just because something's easy
Doesn't mean it isn't hard.
Jeremy Betts Dec 2024
I just want you to want me
But experience shows
That task's an absolute impossibility
Leading to a litany of woes
I can't be too mad
No one's been able to do it
Not mother, brother, sister or dad
A reality that even to myself I don't want to admit
It hurts but brings no tears of the sad
I literally have no more to give to it
A pain universally grand
A heartbreak university grad
Minus the school spirit
Nothing left of me to offer either
There's only rubble in my chest
Ruins of love from a life prior
When the heart was left on house arrest

©2024
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