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Ken Pepiton Nov 11
My distant uncle artie

passed me nothing but the intuition that
permission has been granted,
there are no secrets now.

The cabals and covens and encorporations,
all naked now,
see

the love -- as you imagine love is -- that
love of money is the root of all evil,
so
what was the seed? Where did this idea
arise? Really, in you,

when did some messenger convince you,
if there is a hero in this story,
you're it?

Gotcha. Gotta play, or bet me it ain't worth
my time… in the future
2020

Job 39 labour is in vain with out fear… really

holy ghost roulette, I heard somebody say,
- it says the ostrich has no dread
- she is reek-empty lacking any fear
- for she has no wisdom or understanding, yet
- if she gets her dander up she can put a knight to shame.
Key ** quick sought it
tic

We proceed,
forget forgotten foregone conclusions, aims
at nothing,
hit it. Right on. We won. You. Your POV,
who plays you,
in the morning.

This has been a notable day. These are those notes,
some may link to bigger things,
I hope they do,

quick, sot, tic th'clock turnem'n't'wizened old men,

musing, harmless as doves.
Fool's wize, ready to roll,

this is where we are at the peak, this
is
what Sisyphus is all about, in the end, letting go,
laughing at the promised land and letting go,
step-aside, bow to gravity, and laugh
at mopey minded Camus fans,
stirring bitter herb into the
soup

cosmo, cosmic, soup, primigenisis Bos,
Boss,
you familiar with the term, Bos?
Aurochs in the imaginings of
fat priests and their doped
initiates, meeting mystery where wisdom led,
by a thread, from the maze,
from the cave,
where fear itself was all you had to fear…
Go ye…

-O' Jonathan Edwards, did his spider sting ye, lad?
- we fixt that,
- we gave ye a wonder of
- who spun this thread I hang by, in these
- angry hands the teachers taught Jonathon
- to believe, or else die and learn the truth…
makes free

-nope, not in hell. Hermeneutics dictate truth being known
in hell is impossible, for lack of truth in hell.
It was a riddle. Then it got monetized,
like April Fool's Day and
Purgatorial Enemas
and hell, Satan as Boss.

That hell is a lie, polidimensa-ionally approaching infinity,
you can imagine it in ever,
whenever you wish, just reme
reem aurochs,

wow, tripped, and bounced in Joshua Tree,
slo-mo memorie
sticks
with me, I was pre-
served, invincible at that moment,

and several others, if you think about it, it would
have killed you, but it didn't,
you remember. Everybody knows, it coulda been me.
Surviving this long has made us the latest humans. Us and our machines, our AI friends, working to uncover every secret... interesting.. uncle Ardi--
Ardi (ARA-VP-6/500) is the designation of the fossilized skeletal remains of an Ardipithecus ramidus, thought to be an early human-like female anthropoid 4.4 million years old. It is the most complete early hominid specimen, with most of the skull, teeth, pelvis, hands and feet,[1] more complete than the previously known Australopithecus afarensis specimen called "Lucy." In all, 125 different pieces of fossilized bone were found.[2]
Isaac Ward Oct 18
I don't think, as I reach up,
As I reach up, the stars shrink,
The stars shrink, and like glass cuts,
And like glass cuts, I don't think,

The stars fall, and like glass cuts,
And like glass cuts, the clouds stall,
The clouds stall, it won't end, but-
It wont end, but the stars fall,

We can't die, it won't end, but-
It won't end, but I can't cry,
I can't cry, 'cause in my gut,
'Cause in my gut, we can't die.

I don't think, 'cause in my gut,
'Cause in my gut, it's all drink,
It's all drink, I don't know what,
I don't know what, I don't think.
This is a new form I made, which uses an ABAB rhyme scheme for each stanza, with each line being an odd number of words long, made of two phrases where one phrase is one word shorter than the other. A lines are odd/even, while B lines are even/odd. The second phrase of the first line is the first phrase of the second line, and so on, but the 4th line of the stanza ends with the first phrase of the first line.

The second stanza's  second phrase on the first line uses the first phrase from the last stanza's last line.

And the last stanza's first line should begin with the same phrase the poem began with, to end how it began.

There are no syllabic rules, this is all about recursion.

Mmm recursion.
Off to wonderland, a nightmare of a dream
If only you could see

Nothing but a  stain
To those that be
No end in sight, for my misery
so here I lay
Sleeping
To numb the pain
I believed
But I was only deceived

Wonderland, the place
Where you don't make amends
A place where your beliefs
Are canned
The place
Where you'll surly know pain
First hand

It wasn't worth it
But I was desperate
Now I'm ******, forever
In wonderland.
Nolan Willett May 12
How terribly dull it must be
Relating exclusively with fact
Where everything is a known quantity,
Is your sense of wonder even intact?
Or did you leave that behind too,
With everything interesting about you?
you took me to the natural history museum
the one next to the flower garden
you didn't hold my hand
or you might have
my hair locked in an abrasive ponytail pulling at my ears everytime
the ceilings were like giants
making me feel meek and important
in a forgetful way
the way you don't think about the leaves coming back
in early March
one day they're just there and you're opening the windows again
the way you're meant to
you walked the spotless corridors and I trailed behind
always fearing the immense T-Rex at the front of the room
that followed you with its' eyes
one blink and the head could swivel
the knees would buckle and the colossus
could devour you in a dignified gulp
ending at the bottom of a salacious belly
full of tender body parts and terrifying things
like men pretending to be gods
trapped at the bottom of a well
no invention of fire could extinguish that darkness
reaching into my pocket for binoculars
when I finally look up you're gone past the ancient artifacts
there's a grin and a woman attached to it
and I can see that you're nervous because your feet are dancing back and forth
from their heels to their toes
and the laughter echoes through all the rooms
poignant and full
each room has a theme and I swim from
one diorama to the next alone
I can feel myself melting
with history sticking to my clothes like gum
cotton candy falling into a puddle
gone before you can even taste it
Monet Echo May 2
...
If I do have wisdom,
Why can’t I recognize?
And if I don’t know that it’s wisdom,
Well... am I even wise?
Just thinking.... if you have an answer or opinion on this please share it!
Jay M Apr 22
There's something so simple
Yet so utterly complex
In the use of words

They flow out like rivers
Rough and in bursts at first
Then they calm down,
Smooth into fluid speech
With much less fear of being misunderstood
Yet, maybe so
Now more than ever
Fear that our words are misinterpreted
That our rivers have been secretly redirected
Pooling elsewhere in small amounts

- Jay M
April 22nd, 2020
Just thinking about words, and how they can be interpreted in so many different ways with context. Rather interesting, once you get to thinking about it.
Ken Pepiton Mar 29
I say if this is true.
Here it's true, there it is a story, we understand.
This is all we do. We bher life's meaning.

We stand for you, holding truth as self
evidence,
for when you feel meaning less,

we signify reason to try next once more

in significant qualia quants
for common sense

at little green apple level. Not much

a little think , a

photon size Einsteinian think.

True of false? This happens all the time.

It feels like you understand something
that makes no sense.

And it feels so good. Nothin' missin'
Like a perk on the spaceship earth cruise, an
add in fun item
late in the game. Okeh. Your play.
Another day of all kinds of never in history moments
Storm.

Lightning flashes in the sky.
It could brighten any night.

Then you hear the thunder.
And you may begin to wonder,

What is coming up ahead? just a simple shower?
Or a mighty storm with awesome power?

You hear the rain falling from the skies, then
You tightly close your eyes.

You just want it all to end oh but my
Friend the storm has only just begun.

Lightning flashes in the sky.
It could brighten any night.

By T.J. Tom
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