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A wave implodes,
impaled upon
impassive rocks...

this evening
the thunder of the sea
is a wild music filling my ear...

you are leaving
and the ungrieving
winds demur:

telling me
that nothing returns
as it was before,

here where you have left no mark
upon this dark
Heraclitean shore.

Heraclitus said we can't step in the same river twice, because it won't be the same river and we won't be the same either. Everything is in a constant state of flux, thus "nothing returns / as it was before." Lovers who part will not be the same people if they reunite later.
“[At the moment, the human world is a corrupt force.] Greed has poisoned [human lives], has barricaded the world with hate, and has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and [understand] too little.

However [some] continue, indefatigably, to reach out. There’s just no way [a few of us] can single-handedly save the world or, perhaps, even make a perceptible difference – but how ashamed [those few] would be to let a day pass without making one more effort.

[Like water, we can be] the highest good. Water gives life to the ten thousand things, and [does not fear its courses]. It flows in places humans reject and so [creates unity]. [It is an element that] can take any form. [Water] can drift without effort one moment, then pound down in a torrent the very next [moment, as a single force]. [And yes, It is true that the efforts of those few] amount to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?

[Now just] Imagine a world in which every single person on the planet has free access to the sum of all human [unity]. In dwelling, [we could] be close to the land. In meditation, [we could] go deep in the heart. In dealing with others, [we could] be gentle and kind. In speech, [we could] be true. In ruling, [we could] be just. In business, [we could] be competent. In action, [we would be sure to] watch the timing and the season. We may even have no reason to fight each other, and thus no reason to blame each other.

In [our] hands, my fellow [droplets], will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since [civilization began], each of our generations has been summoned to give testimony to [the greatness of life.] We’ve all wanted to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness – not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful.

Now the trumpet summons us again—not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are—but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, “rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation”—a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.

In the process of [this struggle], we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct [this struggle] on the high plains of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our [honest efforts] to degenerate into [criminal high jinks]. We must rise to the majestic heights of meeting [corrupt] force with [pure] force, [or suffer the failure of our efforts under an inequitable and desperate silence.]”
SOURCES, in order:
Charlie Chaplin, The Great Dictator’s Speech
Isaac Asimov
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 8 (from Giu Fu Feng’s sparkling translation)
Spike Lee, Cowboy Beebop
David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 8 (from Giu Fu Feng’s sparkling translation)
Jimmy Wales, Founder of Wikipedia
JFK, Inaugural Address
Charlie Chaplin, The Great Dictator’s Speech
JFK, Inaugural address
Martin Luther King, Jr’s I Have a Dream Speech
Ken Pepiton Aug 2019
words tucked into child minds forming in the mold,
depeche mode, fashion wisdom
blooming in
starstruck lunacy of lost meaning

****** Airline driving Jet Blue
as a sign, you know we

rise and ask redemption
this instant

toiling with tools the psalmist dreamed
and all the first cantors sang
in genuine gentle
spirit of...

genius (n.)
late 14c.,
"tutelary or moral spirit"
who guides and governs
an individual through life,

from Latin genius 
"guardian deity or spirit which watches over each person from birth; spirit, incarnation; wit, talent;"

also
"prophetic skill; the male spirit of a gens,"
originally
"generative power"
(or "inborn nature"),
from PIE *gen(e)-yo-,
from root *gene- "give birth, beget,"
with derivatives referring to procreation and familial and tribal groups.

Sense of
"characteristic disposition"
of a person is from 1580s.

Meaning
"person of natural intelligence or talent"
and that of "exalted natural mental ability"
are first recorded 1640s

and remaining in super position watching
until
we see we be agreed and symbiosis sets in

upto unto upon a time
stumbled into uttering urgent fervent

prayer, simple asking, what remains broken

what quest unmade, unmade imagined asif

this is life's book interpreting your
translation of reason into I'll go rythmic

waves rising from great notions stuck
in the mire at the bottom o' th'ocean

stirred up by trouble peace bringing in times of
see-change

settling in on of by bis more again or less
waiting is all suffer ever meant to mean,

mean men made each furrow seem
too hard to ***, in final
throes of
terminal toil

debitum in praesenti, solvendum in praesenti
debt due now, paid. It is finished.
Good news
darkness consummatum

light

fashioned in the mode of our time
powered for ever by happy Sisyphus's
rock rolled up
rock rolled down
by grace of gravity being the law

reach out

ceive con re de ceive (if you know

what I mean, taken for granted)

praesentium tedium t'do doodle do

touch faith, fingers fail, toe-tippy reach

topple the tinker-toy tower where war once reigned

back ground Johnny Cash praisin' Dylan from the dead

out in the desert, just doin my time--
waitin' by a pile of Hopi
nilhili-pili rocks rolling no more

sitting still in rasta farian blank spaces

between the pieces of we
carried to now as you see. We are in this real,
as real angel messages
made magnificent in worth as
words
worth deeming worship's solventum

songs from the po et tu brutes, breakin' rocks
back down the line,

scarlet thread sewn tendon
anchored to my zen minded ped-dance

kick the liar from his throne,
claim it for my own, my pile of flocci nauci

meaninglessness of weightless worship

turned on, with a merest touch.
No flame,
no night. Words alone reign un fused, un frozen,
new mercies
rising in the sunshine of a rich man
with a satisfied mind,

as time rolls by.

Cohen told us there is a crack in everything,
that's how the life gets in
this bubblin ethosphere we offer

as a sacred secret shown in light of all we share.

Clap clapper in liberty's cracked bell.
Let us lieve well enough alone for the time,

being once rung, listen,

other bells ring still with that pathos we share
logically as mere words.
floccinaucinihilipilification (n.)
"action or habit of estimating as worthless," in popular smarty-pants use from c. 1963; attested 1741 (in a letter by William Shenstone, published 1769), a combination of four Latin words (flocci, nauci, nihili, pili) all signifying "at a small price" or "for nothing," which appeared together in a rule of the well-known Eton Latin Grammar + Latin-derived suffix -fication "making, causing."
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
The word I. The idea, ego. Me, relative to you.

I am, but you may not know that. May is your word here.
May be is all yours

to follow in the flow of
all that

anyman,
(wombed or un nevergoes unsaid some days,)
any among the lot o' ye, may be able to swim thru if
it don't get thick.

I, a-poli-gize, bow down, kau-tau, or no--

un appolo getic  magic tech

I stand, sistere, my command,
in this realm, I command lies to stand in light and
I redeem the idle words from the ashes.

Okeh that's my job. I am not a messenger, I sweep.

When walls come down and chains are cut, it's amess.
I become the besom sweeping up the destruction.
--- why is any line after any line. sirius, you have to ask.

orthodox definitions serve as ample chains to hold any
child to the post where today's
sufficiency of evil squats

quotidianishit, day after day. I find such chains,

I cut them with the fruit of my lips,
shape-shifted to the sword,
from the stone,
you know the one...
then bing back to me through a google plex of porbables

fighting spelchek to go viral.

A blind me, I lied, and saw the light. Dumb luck.

And then, rather than, lie once more and say,
I can't believe this,

I am that sword, still be, and know.
eh.
I, the word,
I did it. I made a point and a word formed,
as a bubble might

under relative circumstances. I know, round and round.

If this were a game, this is a key. (ah, a secret here.)

if this were a game, and I were playing.
Quotidian. daily, do the work. Make it plain. Or funny. Never pathetic.
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
I talk a lot about motion,
like I know a thing of progress.
Drop of water in the ocean.
Beautiful ripples of tragedy,
of comedy.

Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
We all know
the words and we go:

Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.

I talk a lot about language,
communication's importance.
Did you know I only know one?
So, *******, I'm an *******.

Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
Developed
world depressives, go:

Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.

We all go
to return
to one place.

We all shoot the farthest we've ever shot,
just to realize we're separate by margins
drawn by logos and emotion --
nothing to come will be made of much
but those two things, because
escape would be improbable.









(becomeasgodsbecomeasgodsbecomeasgods)
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
"I will beat this," I swear.
No one else has,
as there is no end,
but there must be an end.
I'll find it.

Watching everyone spin
on their axis,
touting their progress,
there must be a someone
or some thing!

Watch me spin.
Spin and fidget.
Watch me spin,
spin and fidget.

Spin the blades
to your right.
Now you're loading. Now
you're spinning.

"I will beat this," rings obsolete.
Now, "I will secede,"
seems pragmatic.
Is it romantic to
be at one with nothing?

Cross legged on the floor,
I whisper,
to myself,
"Oh,
         you
                 bet."
Paul Jones Jan 2018
know
                  someth    g
                               in   side
                        out

          think                 side

                                                    out

  ­        the                     box
Know something inside out. Think outside the box.
Paul Jones Nov 2017
thinking
thinking is
thinking is not
thinking is not what
                                    you
think it is
you think it is
but it is not
what is it not
                        you
but what are
                        you
if you are not
thinking
a
human
              being

you've been thinking

but if
            you
asked a thought
am i
          you
it would reply
                           no

i'm just passing through
Logos - 1 -
11:00 - 26/11/17

This is experimental but I'm working on a new structural form. It is not free verse and will have rules. It will be playful and rhythmic.  

This explore's 'thinking' but I will have to see if it works with other concepts. It seems like abstract words work well.
Paul Jones Jan 2018
it is cold
then hot
                    so quickly
it is tough
it is hard
                    but melts with heat
it tings
it taps
and
                knocks
     about
                             the surfaces
                    of the kitchen worktop
             these are properties that stir tea

it is cold
then hot
                    so quickly
it is cool
it is calm
                    but bends under pressure
it sings
it raps
and
                talks
     about
                              the textures
                              of existence
             these are properties that stir me
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