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Poem

This is a poem
This is the second line of the poem
Poem
this is a poem i wrote in year 8
BIRTHDAY

The Ganges rose to the leviathan
A cloud came and gobbled the Phœbus
A vacuum prevailed 
Everything stopped to the dead
Not a feather, not a leaf
The time stopped and so did life
As the timeless reigned
A feeling, a religion, a philosophy
Reduced to nothing
Sorrow, anger, pain 
Joy, elation, pride
Tension, pity, strain
All thrown aside
The Acme and the Core
The Zenith, the Nadir
The far, the near
No woes, no fear
Like the effulgence in the dark
Like the oasis in the desert
Like the earth in the ocean
Like the pause in the motion
Not a god, not a lord
With a frown on mankind
With nothing, with everything
All the darkness, all the light
All the questions, all their answers
All the doubts, all the certainties
Everything seemed collinear
Everything glittered yet not perturbed
The waves and the songs all lasted
A myth from the heaven chose to fall
The Halo, the Aurora Borealis, the Ignis fatuus
The celestial ******* started
The cosmos ******* a perpetual glow
The Hades waited for the quantum ghost
The war waged and the blissful pain persisted
A layman preached the genesis
A sage preached the war
A soul preached the nothing
A work done
Undone
All the blossoms sold
All the colors used 
All the beauty spoiled
Everything remained untouched Indifferent
The heaven-born demon wailed high
The goblins danced the Omega
The olympian omelet spelt the Omen
And there wasn’t even a Nowhere
The sperms swam in an ocean of stars
To search for a just partner
To punch into a colossus
Chanting the doom of the dead
The mothers lay naked
The fathers on them
To give birth to an infinity
The ******* Nature buggered
A billion and eighty times
And no *******
To prevent the divine 
From attaining the eternal high
All the universal wonders
Deemed to the puny
With a supracosmic indifference
The dimensions went astray
All the riches and all the virtues
Amalgamated into a big ball
To play football with it
For the fun of the cosmic Czar
The Oracle sounded a catastrophe
A chaos amongst the asteroids and the meteors
A pandemonium occurred in the kingdom of comets
The anarchy plundered the perennial peace
A golden-soft bathed the culmination
That smelt a smoked rose
The quest for the quarks and the Vedic hymns
Sang the ecstasy of a never-ending charm
Men fell for men
Women for women
Defying the Nature
Ignoring existence
All the animals refusing to grow but to live
Platonic love ousting the corporal pleasures
An unpronounced evolution changed the being
The Absolute attained the throne all alone
There wasn’t a piece of stone
No more sentiments
Intelligence out of availability,
Thoughts existing but no…
A confusion devouring the emotions
Mind and soul all merged into a single hole
The ****** of Venus bleeds
Reptiles…reptiles…reptiles
All protesting the curse of the Creation
To them life: eczema of existence
The electronic enigma
And the molecular metaphor
Bombarding the atomic asceticism
The philosophy of the proton
And the nobility of the neutron
Recreate the nebula of the nucleus
The cosmic egg floating on an ocean of *****
To seek a string of islands
The quintessence of which is a countdown
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero
I am born.
I lay coins on railoads yet
I never wait for train
for I am old enough to know
trying to survive is
dying as well.

She was the best thing
that never happened to me.
And nobody can take that
away from me. Not even her.

In this moment right now,
here you are the oldest
you ever were same time youngest you will ever be.
Life so much more to mean
Because of and death
so much less.

Through all the mud and
Mess in my eyes
she looked straight
at my soul yes it was nice
to know to still have it.

We caught the next train
going south. I asked Neil:
“Why there?” “Thats how
you get to San Miguel silly...”
Hello Daisies Nov 2024
Sometimes I'll hear a song
A lovely song
And tears will come to my eyes
Happy tears
Never a sigh
As I go back through time
With you

It's funny to me
Those memories
Hit me head on
So suddenly
I can't remember what I did yesterday
But five years ago
I can recall the very thing you
Said

Those first nine months
The flirting
The pranks
Halloween
To Valentine's day
The laughter
And denial
Our relationship
On trial

We won

I remember
Being stunned
You kissed me
Being frozen
When you asked me
The pink fluffy hoodie
Jumping around like a ghost
Will we or won't we?
Who knows

Everyone knew
I did too
Did you?
Silly goose
I remember it all
It hits me hard
It's beautiful
It's like fall
Except I didn't fall
I flew
Into you
Into us
Into chemistry
And love

Those first nine months
Our love story
It was romantic
It was tragic
It was epic
And magic

I'll never forget those moments
They'll always be
The best thing
To ever happen to
Me
I love you
I treasure everyday with you
But I love to reminisce
About the sweet romance
That started our bliss

Always and forever
We'll be together
❤️
Ken Pepiton Aug 2024
Suppose, Cain, the first born son,
came after at least one sister, real world.

Pretend the Torah narrative is useful knowing,
if the story version we have is the public
version of the mysteries involved in why
Adam, ee-shee one, could not find a mate.
- How could God have imagined Adam
- could find a way to procreate, sans Eve?

{as a reader, with live edit privileges, I find
the idea that spiritual enlightenment can be
made up, faked entirely, and has been, often.

Each fruit from the Scribes and Pharisees,
who devised the canon after prophets,
that select kind of prayed for offering,
suffer little children to come unto me.
Such prophets, after Constantine,
all who knew the lie told it.
Business is busyness,
we pay attention,
prophecy vows
all went into
commercial exchange and property law.
Most specialized
in making time interesting,
quantifiable for accountibility to the instant…

walk away from the ideas Catholics hold sacred,
walk into the wilderness to be tested, not tempted,

how would you handle a real powerful accusing
spirit? Eh,

same form as G_D, who must be worshipped
in spirit, in deed, using mind as mind is now

known to be more filled with mere ideas
from all the collected works of all mankind,

representative ensamples, we live
in a treehouse, that my father built,

and once he built one with tumble weeds,
and I crawled in and was delighted,

then we burned those tumble weeds,
and danced like Indians in Peter Pan.



God did not imagine Adam could find a wife,
but for a ritually told story,
details fall to teachers
- who travel and return,

Why not, well, says the competent old teller
the story of all people, begins from our people
surviving as a people, since the most recent
effective winnowing of the gene pool used
to form the biological processes active
in our bubble of life, in said to be unlikely
conditions just… just right, adjustable
to practically perfect. Eh,
to American Standard averages and distribution.

Stacking order,
marching order, sowing order, reaping order,

thing use knowing, hurt pain knowing,
why hurt pain making hurts have use,
a whip for the creature pulling the load,

how long did it take to feel the weight
of knowing all the seeds, and which were best
for what use, nettles for thread for holes,

Needles, little needs, I need, to hold, this to that,
Ah,
remember those thorns, needless to say.

Thorns serve me, the mind with the will
to correct a misconception that has formed a lie,
that is my point.
I am a burr in your sock. A seeded idea.


Cain had sisters, likely older than he;
therefore, he was likely doted on, if he
is ever a living part of living story truth told.

A culture formed atop the scripturalized myth,

and myth it is, amigo. We really do know,
the reason for the book compiled as Tanach:
Together Torah, Nevi’im (Prophets) and Ketuvim (Writings)
comprise what is known as the Tanach.
This name for the Hebrew Bible is made up
of the first letter sound
of each
of the three sections
of the Bible.
Das Buch.
The Book, then spends centuries as stories, before
the first book intended to function as a binding story,

offering freedom from fear of death.
For obediance fed to children daily.
By rote. Written authority, right, power.
Some wombed man, in UR, what was her name?
Ai know, in my extra long term memory, she called her-
holy self,  Enheduana, and claimed authorship,
in writing, I, Enheduana,

- hours and hours
- days and days
you see the pattern taking times
shape from when we guessed, it,

this it, we inhabit the planet in one
of these possible solution situ-thingies
a cusp at the edge of next,
applied Christianity, of the merest sort,
sieved and dried,
ground to finest dust,
viral original intention proof
**** into the wind, looping reality
at this scale, human scale, stretching

as when a black hole ***** reality,
as witnessed by

many, who saw it on TV.
Magic acts, tricks of the trade,

attention merchants,
lend me you ears,
can you hear me now?

right up there with
wheres the beef?

Mikey likes it.
Life. Good ad.
But I skipped the 70s.
Got no TV generation inoculations.

M'using, musing,
thinking, denken,

spacing, zoning

Worthy sacred making time
deemed worth the effort to explain.

There is an after story after
the story told for four thousand years,

The bible, Tanach and the 27 pieces
after Jesus,
done what he done…

Billions of people learned to read,

trillions of worth units were created
to pay the price
to teach the last lie necessary,
for the republic, you know, perfect
form for a society powered by slaves,
and the spirit of inventiveness.

Guardians, yes, those must believe
the call of duty from a story's
teller's testimony is true, and to
those who hear the call, as truth,
the loyalty oath is mere insurance,
break the oath Christ told you not to swear,
now,
that you recall the pledge, American, vet.
Semper fi.
Yet, we release you from all debt.

Feel free to assume final form.
Inherit the wind.
Novel forms of muses used since ever had solidstate RAM
PERTINAX May 2024
I look down from blue skies on high.
Birds fly,
And sing.
Clouds make their rounds.
Shifting shapes,
Take the form of peace,
Content with itself.
The wind whooshes and whirls my hair.
I smile at its gentle caress,
Happy to receive an old friend.
Together we surf the heavens,
Bid our greetings
And farewells,
To the Gods above.
Feeling safe and protected.

Arching across the firmament,
I become separated from the wind.
Frantic,
I search the sky for any sign
Of my wayward friend.
I ask of the birds:
"Do you yet glide upon the breeze?"
"No," said they,
"We must flap and flap
Just to stay a flight."
Worried,
I look down at the clouds;
Still moving,
Shapes still.
...
And dark.
So... Dark.
Lights flashed within.
A terrible boom sounded,
Causing me to loose focus on my peace,
Leaving me to fall downward,
Ever downward towards the raging storm.
Panicked, I yell to the Gods in the heavens:
"Please, I have lost the wind,
And without it,
I am left to plummet!"
I was scared.
Would the Gods save me?
Would the wind?

My prayers unanswered,
I plunged into the abyss.
My hairs stood on end
As electricity arced.
The sound of thunder,
Deafened my ears,
Leaving a hollow ringing,
Screaming,
Thinking it's the end I begin
To sing:
"Above the clouds I knew peace,
Tranquility,
The love of friends,
And songs of birds.
I was free to smile,
And happy with my lot,
High above the human rot;
But now I fall.
The Gods too cruel.
The wind is gone;
And storms duel.
If this is the end,
Then perhaps I will rise again."

As the last lyric left my lips,
I broke through the clouds,
Fighting off hail and sleet,
As I spun out of control.
Rain began to soak me,
Leaving me shriveled
And wrinkled,
As if I'd aged a century.
I can see the earth now;
My sweet mother,
Who had nurtured me,
And taught me to soar.
She too was also sodden.
Rivers flooded the ground.
Trees were being torn from their footing.
Lightning struck repeatedly.
A blinding cacophony,
That left dark scars on her skin.

Humans ran where'd they could.
Some climbed mountains,
Other dug into her flesh.
Parasitic cowards,
Unwilling to face their fate.
Their greed and avarice
Were what led me to the skies,
All that time ago,
When I cried to the great mother:
"They take and take and take,
Yet never do they give to you.
Once they worshiped you
With offerings of laurel
And incense.
Now they insist upon stealing your life."
Warmly, she brushed away my tears,
Saying:
"My dear nymph,
They know not what they do.
Just like you,
They too are searching for peace.
Though, they are not a part of me;
They do not pray to the Gods.
They do not dance with the trees.
They do not sing with the birds.
They do not blow with the breeze.
Much like lightning,
They are static,
And ever racing.
Life is a competition they feel they must win,
Regardless of the cost."

As the memory faded,
So too did that feeling of falling.
Looking around,
I saw light that was bright,
Instead of dark.
Clouds parted to shine brilliant rays,
Pristine,
A rainbow curved over a mountain top,
And birds sailed once more in leisure.
Looking down,
I see that I'm floating
Just inches from the ground.
Then feel just the slightest cool kiss
Brush across my cheek:
"My friend! You've returned!
And not a moment too soon!
For if you had been just a single second later,
I would have reunited with the mother,
Six feet under."
A new smile bloomed on my lips,
Relieved to be alive,
Yet also sad to see the state of Gaia;
Flooded and scarred.
She was unrecognizable.

I whispered to the wind:
"Set me down dear breeze,
For I must commune with the forest,
And help heal the damage
Caused by murderous men."
Unexpectedly, the wind lifted me up,
But not towards the heavens.
No,
The wind raced me to the nearest mountain;
Rainbow still curved over,
Where the humans huddled
In their ragged masses.
Stricken, I fought against the wind,
Wanting only to fall again:
"Those men and those women,
Threw me away so long ago.
They made me feel such pain and sorrow
As they hewed my forest
To satisfy their insatiable hunger,
Forgetting those days of peace,
Where nymphs helped lost humans,
And humans composed beautiful poems
About nymphs.
... And their great mother."

The wind did not listen,
Setting me down in the center of the pestilence.
I cowered,
Wondering why my friend
Would act so cruel?
The humans around me shied away.
Some yelled "demon".
Others "fiend".
I cried then,
Feeling other than,
And yelled at them:
"Stay away you barbaric heathens,
I will not let you cut me again!
Nor witness you harm my mother!"
Then, I felt the wind...
It nudged me towards a crying child.
She wasn't much taller than myself.
I felt... empathy for it.
Together we cried tears of fear,
And sorrow;
Both victims of life's losses.
Mine, in the past.
Hers, in the present.
Sobbing, I asked her:
"Why do you cry young one?"
She wailed:
"I lost my mommy!"
My tears redoubled as I said:
"I too have lost my mother,
But it is not the same.
You see, dear child,
I have been watching my mother die
For far longer than you have lived,
Or will live.
So do not cry.
Instead, go offer some incense and laurel
To the spirit of Gaia;
Pray to the Gods.
Dance with trees.
Sing with birds.
Blow in the breeze.
Find peace in nature as your people once did,
And compose a poem for me,
To read in Elysium.
...
If you do this,
A mother you will find.
I know, because I asked the Pythia,
Long ago,
In a different time."
Hermes Varini Mar 2024
VLTORIS MEA INCIDENS SVVM ÆTERNVM IMAGINE THORAX
DIXIT VNIVERSI MIHI LAPIDE AΠΟΦΘEΓΜΑΤΙ TYRANNVS
DVM SCYTHIÆ SVPER SANGVINE ARDEOR INVICTO
SEXTA RESVLTANS MEA NOCTIS SPECVLO FORMA
CÆDIT SVO PROBVS SIGNATOS FVLMINE POSTES
QVO VASTATIO CHALYBE DICITVR ESSE INDIGNI
VICTRICIS AQVILA TVRMA SACRI CONSONA
PRIMO SIGILLO TEVCRVS NOMINE CRVORIS

VINDEX XYSTO DÆMON IΕΡΩ

MITHRÆO TEGVNT FVLGENTEM TENEBRÆ HOSTES TEMPLVM.
A composition of mine in Classical Latin touching my own beyond-modern, or else beyond the Cogito OVER-CROSS and FEUDOVERMAN new notions. TEMPLVM is “temple”, in both the Greek, or Roman or Carthaginian (or ancient, in general) and Steel-Medieval acceptation, as now related chiefly to the latter. A SUPREME and OVERWHELMING, New Superomistic Shrine is thus set forth, flashing with primordial force into an Eternal Night (MITHRÆO TEGVNT FVLGENTEM TENEBRÆ HOSTES TEMPLVM), and utterly dabbled in Battle-Gore (PRIMO SIGILLO TEVCRVS NOMINE CRVORIS). IΕΡΩ ("through the Temple") is Ancient Greek for this very word as well, as thus employed in the instrumental dative (TO IΕΡON being its neuter singular nominative). Told in the first person.
Hermes Varini Mar 2024
ILLE QVI VNICVS DEBELLATOR PROSTRATO REGE VNIVERSI    
HARVM IGITVR ENTIVM IGNEA CELEBRANTVR SYMBOLA  
VLTIO EXTRAMVNDANI VIRI VENI MIHI ALTA EREBO
DVM BELLI LIBER SCVTO IMPERAVIT IPSE TEMPLVM
  MALA FVLMINE INFAMIA PERIT MVNDI VICTA

VINDEX XYSTO DÆMON ΞIΦEI 

AVSONIÆ TENENS ROSAM CHALYBE RVBRAM.
A composition of mine in Classical Latin touching my own ontology, in now further reference to my own OVER-CROSS new conception. DEBELLATOR means “conqueror”, “subduer”. ΞIΦEI is ancient Greek for “with the Sword”, “through the Sword” (instrumental dative).
Johnson Oyeniran Sep 2021
-Silly Billy

Mid afternoon,
Stubborn Jane Dune,
Wondered into the forest of death that her folks deemed forbidden

Soon she got lost,
And cried alot,
Because she couldnt find her way back to her parents grand mansion.

Moments later,
A large tiger,
Saw the scared lost girl alone and suddenly sprang into action.

She was attacked,
By the huge cat,
And as a result, little Jane Dune died and went up to heaven.
Johnson Oyeniran Sep 2020
-A lament by the preteen Queen of Mesopotamia.

Late September,
During summer,
My great kingdom was obliterated by raiders.

My poor people,
Young and feeble,
Were all mercilessly butchered by those strangers.

Every temple,
Made of beryl,
Was then looted and set on fire by their archers!

And as for me,
A preteen Queen,
Slavery is now my role for their vile leaders!
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