Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ken Pepiton Jan 9
My grand daddy taught me to start a rope,
with a Turk's head knot. This be that sort of rope.
-- it takes less time to use
than to make
long enough
for any actual perfect purpose.

Mimetic pretenders,
euphoric make believers,
ritual passage over or under open limen
- cross the t and dot the ego.
- seek and find the missing pages
- all the mysteries in time
- that form our fundamental
- common sense in crazy made time

Lacunae rise from forgotten reasons used
to teach guardians
of secrets reasons
for war, how
to love,
in all the ways love is made worth dying for.
Blut und Grund, das Sein,
und mein, danke Schön

-- time ghosts pass, remarking at the weather-
-fine day, suns ablaze, breeze is light,
bemusing the beguiled thinking
'tis fairy, times fairs became cities, and all agreed,
election by contest, war in the spirit, in truth
using mere words, no audio, no video,
no styling nor fancy letter forms, unicode
alone no secret scripts, only sound marks
accented acutenesses and all,

y nada mas, mere words, redeemed, for this.
one new day redeemed for glory story need.
Morning glory teas,
in tiny shell shape cups.

May all magnificence be truth's.
Kernels of truth,
seeds producing tomorrow's
criteria, substance of things hoped for,
picked out details
to see in myths, the accuser's uses,
mysterious roots in ancien' riparian realms.

Oreithyia and Pharmaceia, intercession
for the poor.
Early spring
bulbs and flowers
the maenads chaos wine,
effigy effigial me, burning
for your mis-perception
of procedural authority,
instant re-co-gnosis,
vestigial dreams
time minds
in tow, riding your own
around the spiral, down,
you would tell me if you were insane
so would I, the ego, living aight,
this it, you read, that's all she wrote
∞ *+
∞ -> =
aha, you think,
may be so,
say so, or no, go and
find the connection closed,
and energy flowing in to the either real realm,
or the null set, like old never minds, you had
while the circuits were fried
at the fusebox
for pennies
used to save a dime, to keep the energy
flowing to the magi's visual representation
of all that's known to hold attention,
by reflex,
look out, see windsense, energy electricity,
elect to let your curiousity fix all your if-I'da


open for conjecture, to catch subjects
objectified from the precept wisdom is, whole,
as the whole truth, we understand, makes sense
nets form nodes of both knowing, as a me,
we, each grow old at the same pace,
we become that which is,
at first step, precept assuring the runner,
there is always a place to put your foot,
goat-sense, Ein Gedi balsam eating
'scaped goat,
running down the cliff,
at the edge of annual reboots,
reconnecting reality, and the balm
traded for silk in Giliad, and
entertaing news
of miracles in smoke…
and mirrors of mercury, and
-------- time, out of mind dangling hook
make believe, fishing
we pretend, making be specific
imaginary gravity and survival codes,
for a chosen few, catchholds, grapples
for those not inclined
to lean
on a lesson
that demands experience,
to contend, hold that thought, this ain't war.

- Khai Vinh, set like the roof
- Ai can find the images,
- the place was real
- those were my antennae
- crazy true, after the fact, signal
- now, how much of that was CIA?

proud Mary keep on boinin', 'long
Bayou Bleu,
down Plaquemine way, deep night
on roads made from tiny wet white shells
that something made, while living in it,
- one way trace, wide enough
- for an auto me mover
- tugging my at to here
as we live inside our head, as far as
our fingers reach
from where we stand,
our feeling fingers only reach so far, so good.

Held a thought
a while back,
it may have been a trick, but listen, if it was,
I'd have taken it, and won, for midsent-morphing
turning tropes for the dopes hoping something new.
In fancy forms of wannabets.
Peace on Earth, is real.
the price is all the attention you can muster,
and then some, as time seems
to have
modes, like we have moods, hormonal
catch and release reflexes, you know, like…

what, what, who cares why, what must be first
priority, ah
what are we intending to pretend to be?
entertained, fed to satiation, what more, prior

to the next wisea
* asking me to believe, in hell.
I just came to fish.
I came after the curtain was torn, top to bottom,
nothing kept secret
for the artifactual value, remains
here. You know, free as any knowing, now.
There is no enemy that truth cannot love, once
you understand, the limits
of your learning curve, ai,
you accept, no lie is
of the truth, no wisdom form
is flawed, first glance,
glimpsed, real as war
glory, as valued a common lure
to the unshined …
initiate turn on … flip
the switch.
Imagine Grace.
Riches with no sorrow,
worth the effort, found
pure, then peaceable, gentle

right snap
fit, just right, no excuses, we got the mystery
imagined for us,
in the end, pain free,
in the collective consciousness some say is spirit
of our time, our Zeitgeist, doing what it does

close up, nothing spooky at a distance, eye
to eye, mere words with wishes twisted through

outs and ins and ups and downs, and
deep as pressure allows,
right, I ought to sleep, but buzz…

O' no, I said too much… or did not say enough.

Slowly, Monday came.
Morning harbinger to sailors, says sit tight.

Find a fire
far from the threshold, and wait.
Talk with the locals
from the same boat, survivors,
boast of storms ridden out, and ones
that swallowed brothers
and some malicious captains. Good riddance,
some say, while others flick a libation
offering a drop of grog across time's stream.

Lift up your eyes, look down
from your satellites and see the future
coming on the weather channel, thanking
all the forces fixing droughts and flushing deltas,

with the first of winter's predictable trials.

Hunker down and listen, feel your self, you
deep down, your sacred feeling, especial self

red sky warning seen
before by wiser men, older
by experience, made
acknowledges your luck,
as a ware for use
by innocents, listen, take heed,

all things work together
for good,
for keeps
for those with hearing ears.

Listen to the wind, and thank the dry truth
for being.

just being used to
form fibers for twisting into ties

---- long lines for this ride pray patient perfecting

Rush to judge the blown away reason.

To whom is thanks given, and why, I
the desert dweller bound for Tarsus, stuck

at the edge of the raging sea.

The whole world shuddered at the blow,
the earthquake, peleg in the old tongue,
as the story eventually got writ, in a modded
Phonecian script, survivors were mostly kids,
resiliency of innocents,
one here,
one there, some whole neighborhoods,
where all the kids were in the swimming hole,
all around the shuddering islands on this world.

It was as we have imagined,
until the grownups crossed lost time,
using lost knowledge locked in idle words,

deem the day redeemed,
feel the emotion defined

gratitude for gratified if I'd known,
missed terminals, crosst wires,
connect to the sea of God's forgetfullness,
relink the collar think canals on rivers,
holding the course men set for cities,
dhghemed damdamd-dayamd indeed…
No river muses suffer such for ever

we all know enough to be accepting
oddities in timed chance trial understandings,

we all know wills to power, and notions
to jump into the ocean and go on down,
to the bottom mind tele far long now mind

space shared across time, like the snow,
when the tv went native,
in the olden days
my minds child watched the hush of creation,

let it happen, let it be, this is it, or we are lost,
and that
is un thinkable, try.
Try thinking you do not follow the whole idea,
is us, all of us in our most common sense,
this one, translation by Google Bard,
passed my Hausa native speaker friend's
blind Turing test,

that happened days ago, next, ah
precept, reception tune to the humm,
listen, humm,

call the editor.

"very interesting." Rest assured,
after accessing the way made plain,

Habakkuk habit, make it plain,
make it make the motors turn minds
in to wills, and wills into power,
pure peace
prefects feel good flicked libation.
The entertainment, many minds
attention paying to the shared event,
Today. EXTRA, read all about it,
death has no lasting sting.
Live to the end. Redeeming your time.
Swiftly passing to the beat of your own drum.

One step past the simple, love,
you find sublime, nothing down and *****,
nothing missing,
nothing broken,

as one learns to think from the heart,
part of me that's thought in you, feels as
mere words some scribe imagined hearing

as he wrote,
line upon line, asangin' twangin'
a strangle hold, twisting hairs into a rope.

A riata, I think they call em.
Horsetail lariat, patiently plaited,
to make my own noose, when the time
comes to put the tool to use.

Plato, Phaedrus 229 (trans. Fowler) (Greek philosopher C4th B.C.) :
"Phaidros (Phaedrus) :
I should like to know, Sokrates (Socrates),
whether the place is not somewhere here
at which Boreas (the North Wind) is said
to have carried off Oreithyia
from the banks of the Ilissos (Ilissus)? . . .
Sokrates :
Oreithyia was playing
with Pharmakeia (Pharmaceia), when a northern gust carried her
over the neighbouring rocks;
and this being the manner
of her death, she was said
to have been carried away by Boreas."

Morally ambiguous. Us, our we, we know not valid reasons
to do useless things, making
vain repetitions, vain making of many books,
all vanity, the making of many things from nothing.
We live on a living planet, and we have tamed parts of it,
not the part common sense comes from, it is still forest dark and lively.
Nigdaw Jun 2023
a knot of traffic
to reveal.... nothing
no reason for delay
no great drama
too many people
in too many cars
in one place
at one time
wanting to be in front
all more important
than everybody else
Charles Vorpal Oct 2021
Suddenly, I was a unicorn
With silver fur and eyes
My mane and tail bright blue
And of course, an ivory horn

Then, I was entrusted a duty
Of the greatest significance
I must officiate the wedding
Between twilight and sunset

Under cheering delighted stars
The lovers' carriage descended
With orchestral accompaniment
By the winds and the waters

A giant, fluffy purple puppy
Guided the wonderful brides
Towards my podium of petals
In this iridescent cathedral

Before this divine couple
I was so small, and so short
Yet, they are not intimidating
I felt bliss, and very blessed

With the help of a blue cloud
I gently crowned the goddesses
Deepest pride swelled within me
I proclaimed their eternal bond

Fireworks shimmered and sparkled
As they fed each other honey cake
Seeing them kissing passionately
Is truly the most touching scene

An elven queen suddenly kissed me
And now I am a shark-tailed merman
Getting ready for a new nuptials
Between adventure and mystery
Based on the Inktober prompt: KNOT
LC Apr 2021
a statue quietly lurks
in the corner of my mind,
waiting until all is calm.
when the dark shroud
falls over the blue sky,
the statue comes to life
as a vicious, fang-bearing,
red-eyed, gnarly demon.
the demon pulls a dream apart
with its long, pointy claws,
injecting the shreds with poison
until they tangle up in each other
to become a tight, infectious knot
that can only be waking up.
#escapril day 18!
Harley Hucof Aug 2020
Sigils in the sky
The wind is my luck

My knowledge echoes , amplified
As it wears the dusk.

The bell chimes with my commands,
Alchemy to help humans understand.

The hidden truth bleeds in rhymes wearing dusk.
Reflecting our paths in one big entangled knot

Words Of Harfouchism
Simon Aug 2020
Friendship is like an eternally spinning ferris wheel lasting seemingly forever, because it doesn't know when to actually stop! It knows for certain (when to stop). Only when based upon the choices made by the one's who are eternally tied by fates literal "knot of joy"! This literal knot of joy that fate demands friendship compatibilities upon is entirely unparalleled to something that was even given a choice to begin with. Meaning when an everyday common ferris wheel doesn't know when to stop... It's because fate designed the one who then designed the very invention of the very ferris wheel to give off the impression of a never-ending fated knot of joy! A testament to the joy one enjoys within their own "little friendship circle". Utterly bonded by a knot full of joy that's fated to last for an eternity! Except there's one entire catch here.... While it is in fact true an everyday common ferris wheel was literally made to go on and on, without so much as a (push of a button) made to seemingly stop otherwise. It's actually given to the push of the button of that very choice both guarded and decided upon the very individual who made that very choice to begin with. And who is also in a never-ending fated knot of joy within an entirely different individual besides yourself.
Conclusion... So in the end, it is choice upon one's very decision to (first and foremost) act against. Which is the breaking of fates very will to act accordingly to it's very "strategic" design, in order to see a never-ending source full of joy bonded by a single knot lasting for eternity through...towards the very end!
Then you hear whispers between the one who made that choice to begin with and their unsuspecting seemingly "significant other" who is tide deep into fates never-ending "knot of joy"! The one who made the choice politely asked, "how long do you think this whole thing (between us both will last for")...? The unsuspecting significant other responded in kind, "I'm not exactly sure... Forever if possible"?!
This poem is again about a very "special" individual of mine! What do you suppose would happen if something were to last essentially...forevermore?! Would you act accordingly in kind??? Or fully dispute your claims on the desire to not agree within a system that's revoked your entire decisions, properly (for the better)?!
Where does man, where does woman, where does beast go
When slumber dawns upon their fleshly vessel?
When the twilit sky bleeds into a stygian veil?
When the musicality within begins to take psychosomatic form?
I reminisce over the eventuality that stirred my burgeoning.
It quaked my lucubrations, my excogitations, intellectualizations;
Ye, The Incendiary Phoenix Flame billows within. Rebirth awaits
every anima forged by The Apotheosis of The Astral Flame.

The doughty firebrand in me shalt nought surrender,
The Gaian Warrior within shall ne'er be forgotten,
And my reverenc'd doubts  shall be undone.
O, whence all incredulities have been uttered The Leadings of Lovelight shall prevail. The Vestige that once ravaged my remembrance shall vanish into The Magisterial Tides of Oblivion,
We are all one with the Blood-Tinged Oath, The Fulgent Daystar;
He, exhaled eternity into the souls vexed by mortality.

Underneath the Sun:
There breathes an azure vista.
What lieth above our aethereal aegis has incited inquisitiveness aeons aforetime
Open your hearts to the cosmic currents, the transcendent torrent,
The Communal Oneness of The Primal Phantasmagoric;
By that One,
For all time we were summoned.

Question what lie before to be spirited away.
  Listen to the arcadian zephyr whisper
              Through in, through out your every breath. Trust, the Sanctity of intuition.
Coloring the Changing of The Seasons.
The aqueous dew throngs upon virescent leaflets,
A fulgurant surge fulminates
Upon The Celestial’s bedarkened sky.

Red- Shift Existence: evidence, upon which a system of belief expands, under examination
Therefore, it is our duty to ponder the Legacy of the Sages
That we might unravel the esoteric secrets
That function as a key
In gainsaying, in overturning The Lock of Fallacy.
Finally we gain understanding, we acquire wisdom
Altering our cognitive trajectory.

What is Life,
What is Love,
What is Divinity,
Without creativity?
Without imagination?
Without vision?
We must all surrender to
The Sacral Expressions of Omnibenevolence.
Spirituality is a fleshly disorientation, a carnal discombobulation;
So, relinquish your dysphoric allegiance
With the pangs of hunger and malice.
Effloresce into The Luminary,
We Denizens of Light,
Were all
To be.

(Se' lah)

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Amanda Kay Burke Jun 2020
They say at the end of your rope to tie a knot and hold on

There is light touching the horizon

But what do you do when your grip slowly slips loose?

When insides of your palms are lubricated with sweat

And the crevasse below darker than a black hole

So much that it threatens to rise up and with one tug take you spiralling downwards to swallow you whole

So instead of making a knot at the bottom of your fraying rope you may as well tie a noose instead
The whole poem was really just written as buildup to the last line
Em MacKenzie Jun 2020
I like the way that you sing
when you think that I’m not listening,
and it’s amazing the smile you can bring,
when you do even the simplest thing.

Go on and put my heart under arrest,
and proceed with each Miranda right;
at the trial I will plead no contest,
I’m guilty of thinking of you every day and night.
No need for a jury to resolute,
as each line upon my suit,
will be the love I profess just finally brought to light.

It’s just you,
and what you do to me.
You turn the sky blue
and keep the sun shining.
I thought I couldn’t do a thing
but true love’s always lingering.
It’s just you,
you’re all that I see.

I wish to write poetry for you but I forgot my pen,
but no paper for my hands or tongue so you’re body’s perfect to lend.
Up and down I’ll write “I love you” in lines,
at very least a hundred times,
over and over again making you contort, shake and bend.

We’ve been saving the best for last
but it’s nowhere near the end,
and while time is now moving so fast
do you remember when it was the furthest from a friend?
Some measure it by slipping sands,
but sometimes matters must be forced by hands,
to correct actions of the past,
and heal wounds that couldn’t mend.

It’s just you,
and what you do to me.
You provide each foot a shoe
and hold me up walking.
I was choosing to be by myself
than fake this with someone else.
It’s just you, naturally.
Ileana Amara May 2020
no string is worth cutting
if you could thread through the knot carefully
without dismantling both endings.

This is a short work that defies my previous poem "the untied knot". Centenarians who have managed to live and love in a lasting relationship left me a lesson that most people nowadays tend to give up easily. In the concept that when something is broken, it is now so easily replaced. People who truly love thread through things carefully, work through pain with grace. I'm not a veteran in these kind of things, but I think it's important to know that even in the tough times, pain teaches us to grow in adversity. However on the flip side, paradoxically, one should not allow themselves to forget their worth when they give their all. It's all a matter of moderation & balance. Here's something I'd like to impart:

moment of grace (n.)
the point where people are forced to make a decision that either enables them to transcend a circumstance or succumb to it.
Next page