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Ken Pepiton Mar 8
Homework,
pass time, sharing mind hats IC wit

read the indigo alchemical how who knew,

the light we live in determines limits live-evil

chiral viral virtual truth, gut growl inspired,

listen, this is it, this is the first time any one,

maintained make believe money… any weform

plural I point of view, privileged religiously of old.

Royal charters and patents and permits and such,

you know.
Life' business attaining Optimum Prime Definite

Chief Aim, aha, wise, knowing never was wrong.

Any child's angel knows,
if listened to, late
in life

after accepting the winning's done, We accept
the prophet's reward for the cup of cold water,

and nod
slight smile

life's business is useful beauty, keep that
in mind
as we attach we form
adhesive, single carbon
bond attacking indigo light
the sweaty trapped infrared,
calmed in the shade
where cool ideas occur
green leaves eat infrareds,
being calming consciousnesses
subconscious money fighting rights
Priest authorizes Melchezideacon shares

Had I never wept
for Gunga Din, had I
never been gut shot
with a ***, no shot,
from a 20 guage 10 feet away,
- eh, whose, experience the same

whose breath was never lost
in the fall that marks the know how
it feels
to have breath knocked out
by force
of gravity and velocity,
out ah

limits, and breath is back,
gasp,
on screen, gnoshit, feels so

real,
from Saturn,
in our right mind, seeing
now, go look we have seeing
windows in our hands seeing through
from Earth 2025

this is as useful as a fool can be,
being as times being's being wasted
making up reasons to believe the shuffle,
random acts
of kindness sowed mindfully,
as seed some of us lived to sow, no mas
true make believe,
once truly used
to form a we
of believers convinced
the joy in weform alone is enough

imagine the waves, at the bottom of the air,
down here with other breathers thinking,
in the space of a breath or two, we all breathe,

in the space of a breath or two, we all can see

this one planet reflecting enough light
we all can see, Earth from Saturn's outer rings

in the space of a breath or two, we all can see

so bright, our only ever mortal home, we see

all this time invested in worry,
worry for nothing, read for free, live for today,
think kindly,

no whining, if you read this far, you
got electricity, okeh, and time to read with it,

like participate in the message, translate the idea

think it
may be not
wasted used
to account, count, matter, real
redeemed mystery lure may being
realizable wealth
of mind space droned empty,
huge echoing rooms minding reasons science
makes true

at tense
attention practice
stuck true gluon level how

in hell did that work

-proves this ai snot hell, sniff
it's winter and they had a war.
Things are confusing reality again
without all the energy
in reality giving
a bit,
a tip
to the shiner
for the TOE shine, the reflective Pacific
as seen
from dark Florence nights
in Da Vinci's days, Medici Machiavelli days,
roots set to love the power, what it does,
when all the bubble you breathe, indeed

contains all the ideas becoming agents
acting in Jesus name, becoming spirits
in truth
sighs, gasps, unvoiced inhalation, we

ready readers writing inhabitable weforms,
gut level Bavarian Greek yoghurt symbionts,

Phi-delitus, spoken allowed, alert, the precepts,
nine, was it, Templar page preparers, hide scrapers

listen, learn, recite what was said to whom,
as this deal was being made, who said wanna bet?

Better, yet
who went all in?

quests for power under what precepts?
Those royal lines under thrones and arms?

Once we think we all once knew, then
til this very day we think these
agent seeds of truth,
making free,

loose
us

breathe and think and breathe and think
and realize the instance,
in life around me,

out
of my mind, examining a taken life, given,
accepted, grace, taken, time,
to rest,
in truth,

I am alive, because we all live
after ever started/
Ah, I think I can live like this forever, so, two witnesses, this ain't hell.
Avici Jan 22
In the shadows of my serene composure
Perturbance ventured my susceptible core
Corollary hallucinations compelled my inner channels to disarm
Commenced the chaos at the departure of calm

A storming blitz led by a fortifying fleet
Disruptions levitated to the greatest summit
Every portal being forcefully barred
Catastrophic propositions nearly forged my dreary graveyard

Instantaneous reinforcements initiated an expeditious resurgence
Sirens snapped my vulnerable systems back to sense

My efficacious consultant explored miscellaneous alternatives
Warfare and fleeing being the superlative prerogatives
Befittingly, combat seemed extremely gallant
Escape undignifying the prowess of talent

It all panned out en route a thunderous showdown
The ultimate clash being unveiled as the ‘Psychological Crown’
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
National mindsets self interested suffer
forms of dementia as the order all confessed,
demands of each a concentration of self worth,
you bet your soul, but only in the spirit,
step into the fray, say, let me lead you,
say let me take elected office,
democratic to the edges, being your voice
in a popularity contest, not an intellectual joust.
Tutelary deontology 101.
Governing is managing the labor. Ask the king.
Any flock in the system, governs itself.
Business is business.
Some arrangements are always secret. All
grown ups are in the business of war supplies.
Let your children's minds be at ease.
Trust the checks and balances history proves,
have never worked on balance, for the poor.
Get rich quick as one can imagine, on a bet.
War meets Peace, like it is the storm
that left Greenland, a legend until now.

Easily intreated innocense, who could know.
Prosaic first morning pizz to prime the pump.

How deep is the generational debt due to war?
How many bonds have been sold to pay interest?
How many times has the national debt ceiling failed?
You know.
Every time.
"Each major conflict in U.S. history
has been accompanied
by a sharp rise
in debt as the government raises funds
to pay for the fighting."

But laws do exist…
"Without a declaration of war
to put the country on a wartime economy,
Congress paid for Vietnam
by increasing the national debt.
Over the course of the conflict,
America's debt nearly doubled, growing
from approximately $317 billion in 1965
to $620 billion in 1976."

Now the debt is rising
on interest alone. No need for another war.

And America's trade balance is hinged,
on the point of war.
The ideal centermost irritant, war's hate pump,
pain expanded by generational trespass acts
likened unto the pea
under the stack of feathered beds,
or the bit of grit forcing oyster stress
that has made the misshapen pearl sold
to sovreign entities, those colors on the map,
these mental aggregations called nations,
by nationalist mind frame riveters,
foundational eye beams, remove before demoting,
ah, slow, riveted beams spanning ferro-concrete tech- think.
Building a reasoning trap, children,
ask your fathers to whom we owe our national debt.
Ask also who sells the weapons to the world at war.
Semper fi,
no offence, but… holy hate is as crazy as hungry hate.

A voice from a song, from nowhere,
you just could rethink, or did, that first time think
a bridge over troubled waters being a truly old good idea,
come to rescue you,

in the early days of Boomer parenthood… being grown ups,
we never missed a Disney Movie, though by then,
they were losing the gnostalgia, old knowns to be like so,
were no longer even imaginably so.
Old Yeller,
Childhood's end, the separation
from hearth felt comfort,
to the class rooms and hallways
of massive cold concrete schools… where on day one,
the child pledges with its cohort of coeducatables,
the ancient bond of aliegiance...
I pledged mine first in 1954, the year "under God" was added.

In the just now settling down towns along the great freeways,
there has been no peace on earth in my generation,
at the level of military minds in conflict caused by stories,
boys bred with old hates just waiting for a sigh-psignal
sci-revealed to those willing to become Jason Bourne,
to the best of your abilities, ring the bell, any time.  

Welcome to the front. Sanity is on the line.
There is no conspiracy, we sell our souls for what money
can be demonstratively proven to allow and even augment.

War is all we sell. There is another game, it's a liar's game.
Many famous authorities have filled the space at the table.

Take your hat off, Bartholowmew, she does not understand you.

------------
Daily communication with myself,
one person, with no power to use
save the early cultural confidence;
sworn to tell the whole truth,
so help me, God. Yes, your honor.

Except we reactivate the curious why,
functionally suppressed during the standard
test taking by the proximate others
diligently filling in the blanks,
with graphite rounded just right, one swipe.

Except we see that hanging senselessly realized.
Each problem, one answer, not one option.
Only select correct answer.
Tell the child learning the pledge,
God is on our side, emphasize
how exceptional those who know so are,
extremely discriminatingly,
arranging the economy around
the great decussation at the air gap,
at the back of our national neck.

In this time,
thoughts and prayers, we hear
spoken of as easily done,
almost without thoughts, who
responds?, who, has ever responded
to the said to be going out constantly
thoughts and prayers, asking truth
to intervene and call the liars liars?

God is not angry, nor without resources,
according to the cultures now at war--
¿
Whose mortgage was not paid with earnings
from war readiness industrial complexes?

Whose talent was left with the userers,
because the Bible says y'sposed to earn interest?

Whose 401K deflated to oops?

Business begins with informed agreements.
Let's make a deal.
No killing, stealing nor needless destruction.

Minds join eye to eye, one mindwise agreed,
we become an entity, a being essential
to the parts, a mind in harmony, rank and file.

Greedy men with no agreement. Hmm, who loses?

Line up, not by rank, single file, fall in,
first and following, get in on the end,
and wait for the circle to close,
re done dances, life going wild as
we celebrate our circle, we sing of it
being unbroken in the sweet by and by…

The land of those who talk back to El,
yes, yes, we do, to honor Iyobe,
who first called for the Daysman,
who first
told reality, with all it's evil potential,
you cannot not be true, you know, in form
as spirit and truth containable in words, logos,
logos of all o-logies,
so powerful as to allow, in fact, cause, new mindforms,
species of thoughts that function as a system to make
sense, discernible, bits of valuation determinable in agreement.
--------------
Contractual obligations religiously adhered to
just between us, we take advantage for the nation's sake.
Madrassahs and aliegiance pledges set habits hard to break.

Set the cost of goods, lower than replacement cost of the price.
What does it cost a state to rear a warrior class individual
that self replenishes?

What does it cost me to scatter confusion in profuse create-ifity?
So, add a proper tip,
and pay the cost to ride this line to the next re-entering angle.
Middle east,
cauldron of all the holy empires thus far into the age
of entertainment so vast,
wise men can imagine, some day
there will be a war, and no parents will have
offered children to the infantry or made
righteous indignation acceptable national pride to k-ill for.

There Hamas, holy brainwashed haters of hatefulness.
Repents and perishes the very thought of peace.
Repay in kind, here, swear undying obediance,
fear not death, this is Allah's Promise, die killing Jews,
turns on the monstrous virgins awaiting you…
in post mortal walled places,
where the oldest civilizations occurred,
as God's great idea, I'll
empty the center of me, and seep
back in through fractured rationality
along trade routes between Africa and
the forested north above the desert.

Me, there, in mental efforting, thinking
thoughts, not prayers, but wishes, hopes,
thoughts that prayers attach to, as evidence.

"Ask and ye shall receive."
Love those who call you enemy, can you?

Face me, Mr. Nobody, the essence of other,
I declare peace, where none is, and you laugh.

No ritual, no enchantments with promise,
no sacred making of secular deaths, just
just just adjust the justice aspect, blame
the holy haters whose God dispenses vengeance,
at the behest of warriors fitted with military minds.

As when holy Americans gather to offer military aid,
blessed by the congregations alerted to intercede,
on the side that denies Jesus was God,--- ah, both sides,
in this case…
whither turn we, do we face Mecca, or Jerusalem,
or Petra or … Sol or Luna, all our enculturated faith,

blinks, a lense clarifying effort, rub the crust
of sleep fallen into while mourning, unsealing eyes
to see again, a war between two national identities,
both with warrior glory emulation traditions,
one with money as first de-fence, the other with hate,
nothing less than pure hatred, Cain to Able, sorry bro.

Old mean spirits.
If the hate can live in any man, wombed or un, it will.

Willingness to hate enough to k-ill a stranger, will
manifest as holy terror… enough to make Jesus weep.

--- and those were a few of the local thoughts made prayer,
seemingly automatically, as mysterious as most final secrets.

Part three, deeper, faster, harder… or not

Doings in the dark, are done by feel.
One, you or I, or some other sapien
augmented with the messiah's mind, feels the need for the deed.
Take the message from Garcia.

Mystic experience in story realms,
holding all the visions taken raw,
as revealed… as when a curtained
entry way is opened for inspection,

are we ideas in bodies?
are all ideas spirit in form?

Inhale an intuited absence of evil,
breathe the air of answered prayer.

Imagine that, let fly the idea of you,
beloved individuated potential saint.

Here is your sentimental inner edge,
your gnosis pressed flat as you see in.

The edge of this bubble, is distant
only to the holy cloaked in asceticism,
twisting wicks
for someday light in someday night,
circulate one way then the other,
rethinking perfected emptiness,
there are no others, up or down,
to and fro, vectors tie targeted states,
spider kites form single ray classic webbing,
slim banner, a flag unraveled long since.

Follow me, I say to me, follow me,
I say to you, saying back, I am not you.

My option.
Turn on, sit back and watch,
evolving cave wall interesting hooks,

look around, nothing interesting, eh?
Television as imagined by petrified apes,
during peak-info preservation history,
when men like Franklin and Voltaire,
met to share secret meanings of things.

Previous to any whole story
that remains, as when any mind mistakes
tzimtzum inside as first occurrence,

total emptiness, pre space, one time
this instant accepted as audience

in true gaseous we form, auto informing
the vegetable phaze passed eons ago, life
tells tales too esoteric for novices
to notice, in the ideal state, active
imagining, as with a child's mind, yours
since ever was, so far as you may wish
to remember,
a time when the state was deemed
comforting and beauty filled, chaotic
process of floating lipids, in form of air,
light has not dawned on us, we are
night scene setters of settings, nodes
of potential anything you can imagine,

level with me, even, straight, right… yes it
is the optional meandering mind engine,
an idol, or a daimon, madness of sorted
degrees, a little bit off the charts, sorted
out.
Not in, the bubble being becomes,
when one emerges in a self…

subtle is good, right, we agree?
Jesus, before Christianity, as a kid,
instructed with his cousin John,
likely by his temple servant uncle.

That can be imagined, projected
on the outerwall
of this bubble we be in.
At the moment,
on an Earth wired

for sound, elephants agreeing to meet,
to follow the pilgrimage, pilgrim beings
activated by stark necessity successful
to this degree…

by the reader's time's
at tension, pull
release
snap back, at what ifery, at once, push

most bottom centered point once sitting
in raw time thought processing, in
and out, efforting
- slightly off, not fully on
uncomfortable impression of holy
you better get better or else. Holy

blank slate, bubble pop, soft wow

Now, we're in the swirl, in the spin
toward, froward lips sealed, golden
silence,
subtler than any beast, creature,
living thing in the ruliad, am I? No.

BUT, you know, those penance prayers,
given you as a child, enchantments,
as with all your renouncements of evil
and pledges under God, in your child mind.

Look. To your own self, be true.
You still have private interpretation access
to your child mind.

If you put your worried mind to work
on some thought too deep to ponder then,

The idea of punishment by the Creator
of all that is not God, but was deemed good,
by God, because I said so, said the father,
in the child mind.

To know good and evil knowledge,
that talent, initial mark on our blank slate,
to know, not what you know, but ask
your child mind, how does it feel,

flat on your back gasping as others laugh,
and your child mind blooms an entire eon
- just to catch a breath takes for ever
and there were others, the whole family
of mankind of your kind, to your child mind,
stood laughing at your attempt to perform

a first flight, from an edged bet with an
I think I can virus perpetuated in ever after,

since mind made time make sense in chaos.
Instantly, things start to take shapes, in mind.
Non sense. Since. Processing time. Go.
Instants out of mind, in atari.
Fog of unknowns. I used to play the game.
Not really, only, one off thought forms,
cloudlike in symmetry, no clear tongue
and groove, fitting our pro-posed… pose

supposed, to listen and while listening,
learn the use of any knowing, can be
taken as granted possibility by your self.
- distant sound of light sabers actuation
Your blame and shame catcher, out front,
as we steam ahead across the gap,
thoughts made prayers must leap.

Keep your eyes on the prize, three
walnuts and a split pea with a hair, fine
infant hair, see it there, your old minds eye.

The unveiling of an artifice, an angle
greater than straight, from this point…
a re-entrant angle, like a point, banked shot.

in
Thanks, I needed you to ready become... said the little blue man... whatsoever we agree... indeed. Let us see...
hybridstorm May 2020
I inhale all my faults,
with great difficulty,
and I exhale them all out,
with ease,
as I realize that the fire,
inside me is too proud,
to be extinguished with such trivia.
I realize the utter felony,
of my thoughts.
Cluttering my heart and soul,
like a garbage dump.
I entangle myself from the chaos,
dip my swollen face,
into the ice-cold water of courage,
and rise up,
knowing that my demand was not much at all,
for all i asked for was,
a little peace.
                                                       -storm-
Sometimes we need to realize how innocent,nimble and tender our natural tendencies and wants are.We need to stop trying to be "perfect" or "rock-strong,just embrace our normally warm hearts and do justice to our god-given poise souls
Axel Mar 2020
Empty, and insanity.
A world, an imaginary bliss.
A mindspace, nothing to believe.
How I describe my own mind

— The End —