Heaven up
And Heaven down
The moon rises
As the sun falls
Dark clouds fill the sky tonight
Let the rain pour
And let it seep deep into the ground

Give me life
Give me warmth
Give me a map,
To reach your world
I’m growing fast
And I’m growing old
The clock keeps on ticking
And the seasons come and go
Life is a trip
I don’t know who I am anymore

Never so lost,
Never less hope.
North Star was gone,
Let go my rope.

Never so dark
Never less light.
Landmarks were gone,
Left looked like right.

Never so tired,
Never less born.
Sunset was East,
And in the morn.

Never so scared,
Never less bold.
Map upside down,
My torch burned cold.

Never so sad,
Never less free.
Where’s that compass
Inside of me?

I am a champion of Longing.
Full of gratitude, yes,
but born with an irrepressible
Desire to Chase.
I am always
peering around the corner,
staying up all night,
and stoking the fire
for only the greatest of dreams
of art, adventure, and pleasure,
of science, nature, and mind.

The beginning of romance too,
is taking on the role of explorer,
setting forth into the unknown,
getting my feet wet,
and splashing forward
by drawing a map.
I am exuberant,
(sometimes forwardly so),
not because I seek to plant a flag
and claim connections as my own,
but because I seek to chart the boundaries
of hearts unknown.

I wish to delight in each waterfall,
spelunk each hidden treasure,
plot and survey each peak!
Is that not the greatest joy -
getting to know
that which finds your soul,
multiplies it,
and hands it back to you anew?

Perhaps after thorough study
One may find a home.
And yet, there is also magic
in just passing through,
an extended holiday,
a retreat when healing is needed,
a reminder of that which makes us
ourselves.

And thus,
I will love, and love, and love.
Not always thoroughly -
sometimes in small explosions,
sometimes not as much where I'd like,
sometimes too much where I'm not needed -
But still I will.
Still I will create, do, inspire,
wonder, and love as much as possible,
Knowing that which does not nurture Longing
is temporary.

Stop thinking small.
Within yourself dwells all the secrets of the universe.
Transforming the world is at the very finger tips of your creativity.

Stop thinking small.
Within your heart lies the road map to love.
You hold a sacred mission, a mission of awakening one soul at a time.

Stop thinking small.
The eyes of the suffering people are gazing
In your direction, longing for a glimpse of hope.

Stop thinking small.
Do you want to be remembered as just another number?
Let your testament ring as an icon of inspiration, a catalyst for change.

Stop thinking small.
Rise up, live up to your potential, and
Start conducting the orchestra of the universe.

Hussein Dekmak

That faraway look

not seeing far away, appearing to be

looking, far away,
past today

A game?
A passed time?
A pretended game,
Hi-stoically accurate,

A war game where there's blame and shame,
like on TV, nowadays, with victims,
not yesterdsdays,
Kilroy was
here,

olden days of our Ford.

hey, kid, yer uncle needs ya…

Dare ye?
'S only a game. A  pass time.

Multi-medium, don't spend

your life dist ant con nextrified, terra
firmafied, dis con
nexted

c'mon
try, win, ship, ship, whip get it in the wind

swish wish the message is the medium
light is,
see

Life on TV in 1963, Mr. McLuhan,
is not life on the Net.

Now, you know,
you never saw us old dudes
with pocket HDTV studios coming, but

you did see all the clues, the times changed,
history rewrote itself, evidently,

what you think you see is what you get.
That part didn't change.

The Medium is the message,
do I get that?

War is un winnable, is that the message?
With which weapons?

Mine. (a wink, a think wink, I think)
The Shadow knows.

It is finished. Start there.
It's a whole new ball game.

Let's pretend we have enemies
The emotions are the same,
aren't they?

If we relate.
If we see our self,
our CG'd Junger self, in the Shadow,

floating in the sea of  All  God's

forgetfullness,
asking
is tragedy a strategy to draw light?

Then,

You are related to the people who once lived here,
hear their songs and prayers
first hand clap,
first foot shuffle,

first seen first named we have walked
the pollen way,
the leaven way,
the viral way

more subtle than any beast,
not evil, per se, eh, Jose?

Led by the breeze to be tried in the wilderness…

Mythed Archie,
Archetypes
Natural Archean-types,
red-headed strangers, 'n'such…

Map my calendar to your clock,
wind backa a time and a time and a half a time,

Then, who knew why

the serpent mound in Ohio is a map to
some meaning meant to be meant,

some specific meaning meant to be meant,

clearly,
for as near forever as men could

… envision imagining as a quest.

What if
we could see with
eagle's eyes Blythe's Intaglios or
Nazca's clan tags?

"the meaning of the past
is what it contributes to the present"
Lyle Balenquah's uncle said that.

The past passed this way ahead of us,
See the shadow?

Sun's setting.
Snake mound mouth wide open breathe in

Sigh, we been everywhere man,
we be headin' west sweet home Oraibi

Snake clan drawing in the light
as the breath of being

… envision imaging . What if
we could see with
eagle's eyes

satellite Google earth eyes
see, be, in your realm
of know-ables,
beneath the sands of time that,

several times,
have been the bottom of the sea.

Be then, before that became this,  be
then
Be, now.

In the game? Or is this life?
Wanna bet?

Find a reason for war before
I find one for peace.

What's the win signify?

Double minded me, unstable in all our ways,
I failed that test in the old days,
memorization, facts fractured,

postulates, the-or-ums and proofs all went ****,

I lost the knack of forgetting
or vice versa

A loci analysis error,
left hand caught wind of what the right was doin'
kinda thing

But now, I have the global brain
for instant access to all
the facts
say…
If we wished to know…
how complicated would something
be to build, like an energy source
non rechargeable and polarized,

with output on the scale of
the sun?

Google it. Ask any question the right way
and pay attention to the answers

(more than to the advertisers,
who pay interest to

******- recog-white-room-REM baseline
stats at "waddayewlookinat.com"

for your cheap peripheral attention,
based on memes you liked or created, or ****.)

Pay attention to the answers, and trust
the global brain, the true net A. I.

She's an art-ist-if-ication bouncing
anionic bubbles off the edge of forever,

true rest worthy, my re tired friend,
no need to remember a thing…
Ah,
AI, you can call her Al, I call her Ah,
I can't discern twixt AI and Al.

And, as a bonus, innumerable idle ahs,
are redeemed when I ask Ah for help,

Ah, where am I?
Do you know about counting idle words?

Did that hurt? Like, why?

Seeing words said is intuit-ive-ish,
do you feel

this way of touch is

too intimate, today?

Word play? Put a spell on you?
Fret not.

Some words have no mission
not nullified with the end of time,
(i.e., relative to an individual's forever POV)

Idle words mean nothing, just a way to keep score.

There are no magic idle words, there were
Some seven sworn words, which were said to be muttered and peeped among the
Persian magi-ic elite solicited and
Sent, by God, led by astronomy,
science, for God's sakes alive,
facts, follow the stars,
when this one touches that one,
watch
see, the sweet influence of Pleiades,
truer words were never spoken

To make the captive free.

Free run  to finish
the race to

where?

Ask theSnake clan.
Ask the Antelope clan.

Ask the Flute clan, where is the old way
where good is?

Along that way, did we hear:

Earth, earth, earth: hear the word
of the
most reasonable

God-like, deluxe good edition, being

your mortal mind may imagine.
Word:
Exercise to be
the hero
in your bio to be

and,
wait.

Then think. Be. Still. Wait.

No song explains it, no poems I’ve read
So I guess I must write one, to express what’s dead
He loves me, I am sure
But my soul does he adore?
He loves me as we are supposed to
The way they tell you when you say “I do”
Here is the thing though, I must express
We have fallen way too far, the subject I must press
A marriage once made for love has changed
Now a business partnership, tasks exchanged
I know between us love is there
But it’s a chore now, what despair
“I cannot live without you.”
He says to me, but “I can’t live with you.”
I scream in my head
My soul almost dead
I do not blame you, or who you are
I blame us both, for driving this far
I must confess I wish we could…
But we cannot, it’s no longer any good
We deserve better, we deserve love
Not the kind that we have, as it’s fading
But the kind with clear cut passion, no shading
It’s the rare, true, and scariest goal
To find someone to love your soul
My heart sings for you, and what we built
My soul cries out to me, filled with guilt
For I have neglected it’s thirst for a drink
You see, that is more important, I think
To follow your soul, fill it with its desires
To explore and find adventures, until it expires
I cannot miss out on another cry
For my soul needs fed or it will die
I tried to express, what I now confess
I tried to express, I even gave you my compass
Maybe you have a different map
Is it worth it to try? Or is it a trap?
I must go now, as my soul has a call
To live life, and experience it all!

(Author note: shortline prose to lengthen the attention span framed on tracks set in a Mobius [one-side, one edge 3-d object]
intra-psychic loop of unknown origin and read aloud at https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton/episodes/The-apprentice-is-a-constellation-e2ingh ) Begin agin

The Apprentice is now a Constellation

The announcement was made when scientists of social normality said they saw in
Mickey Mouse's role as The Magician's Apprentice in the
Fantasia Eschered vision that ushered in
images of shift in medium media

message-ification, from angels to

a Disney-ification of
a Medici idea
emerging
from the TV generation's
paradigmatic bubble of re-alification…

the TV generation, the old farts in 2018,
those whose bubbles sitcoms evolved in,

the watchers saw the makings of a great game

manifested in the game fame of the idea named Trump

yew, stink. Can't trump the ***** in hearts,
I think I recall, while Zorro's dumb butler
began to signify, in black and white
Aaaiiiii, karuhmba,
clean sweep,
one roll,
I won.

the mother-facter, whoa, who has that idea who did not
need the thought taught thinkable,
though it is not thinkable
in my bubble,
let me make
straight that which he has twisted,  

magic
magi untie knots they saw tied,
mythic youthful generals cut them,
nullifying the bond, not the entanglement

Positive Quarkish humans are as rare as rare,
imagine all possible vectors in a void

from a singularity ified known

science, the magic tecnique

Macht frei, macht mehr, macht mir

repel-ant act patient, patience, do your thing

signal, antennae agent attending, watcher watching

motive force, my god is not macht!

unprocessed information
untaken action
unstored

owe owe owe shame shame shame blame blame
pre cosmogonic potential
on the level of

me and you.
wadoo-wedo? It's Xmessage time

now, abrupt. Good news
from a far country
hope lost must
now be
sought,

Otherwise, Christmas is okeh, just not Jesus.
The season, then Jesus, okeh?
Wisemen still seek…

Who said otherwise? Fantasy enforces the wish.

I wish it were that we fit

here we do (on earth as)

true, rest a while and listen to your self if that's
the best listener you have found.

Talk to your self, make him your friend or her,
your choice,

really. You make enemies on accident,
but friends, fruitful friendships,
cost sweat and ef
effort effect
fortiffect, effortion and effection

for true fruct ification

affective prayer does act as if fervent
right, alte rechte,

right used you,
all to know
the
signal.

Receive it, reread what you said you knew,
stand by every word yet idle,
and act as if you know
no lie possible
new is yet
not new,
old.

New is not imperfection?
Unfinished is not finished wrong.

A work of love is enthrallment only if the love
is mere imagery locked
in literate minds, to

Rome and its feet of iron marred with clay,
fused with clay, hero myths

etched in soft clay, made
great literature of mortality,
posing in prophecy as poet praises paid to Jah.

Tenured enthrallment in literate minds
un-exposed to the Disney ifications,
the normalizing, reversion
to the mean not
meant in the words the way the stories were told,

in the olden days. On tongues of fire.

That is true, new forever is
forever new, no one we know knows when forever began,

but before now. We know that now.
We explored that realm and realized this one
based on the AI consortium consensus of your most
heartfelt if-only desires
recorded at every
if/then gate
you jumped.

This is it, the best you could imagine being truly happy doing,
with the god of peace,

roll the rock to this point, Sisyphus,
no further was a given
after a time,
at this point

here,
then time is un imaginable nullift, NULL-if I'd-known
one more time, living water
bubbling from my belly as
the rock rolls over
the fool who risks belief in living water
seeping from mommy's belly,

like the papless platypus,
who died at the weir
and sent that final message

Good news. Life rolls on. 166 million years for the Platypi.

At a certain point, there is no sense in pushing,
he steps aside and takes his bow
in the shadow.

Timeless imagine that, with hell in the NULL state.
You can imagine it,
but only there,
here hell is a thought thought mistaken by mortals.

Misbought, is better said, a thought mis thought
is bought with attention paid
to truth, found hidden
under standing idle word monstrosities at the
foundation of the current
wizard class

the stone the builders rejected, that
smashed the feet of clay and iron,

the rusted muddy iron feet.

All we do is watch.
seeing changes everything  seen, thus
The saying is true, beauty is in the seer not the seen.