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Ken Pepiton Mar 28
This has a photo of a California Black Lizard
official name, sunning on a rock, but that's
in the modern novel medium, blog form.
mmmmaybe, baby, we do
grow old, past sixty-four and even more,
unbridled tongues, held silent, lo' monks,

listen, quiet, now, then, to now, then to when
listen to the Osprey fly over our valley to Yuma,

to the Chocolate Mountains, beyond the river,
the only river, running down the great crevice,
due to erosion from John Bunyan's Pauline ax,

a rift right across the heart of the land,
opened up the first Bright Angel Trail,
for there was no other way across the canyon.

And we had people, before, on that other side,

that happened, all around the globe, that hap,
the earth was struck, and struck another,
time and lost all its religion,
it was announct, we all sang along,
and some force pushed the edge of the sun,
in a single most malignant EMP burst relig-i-used
to beat al bound synenergy rationally, as knowledge
and life, root and branch, time and chance missed call
first shall be last, roll on, roll on down time orchard

lessons learned in lines of trees, you can imagine,
while alone, just be used to being in the sense we yoosta
call peace, or bliss, blah good blah, being right inside.
- breathing easy, not sleepy, no place to be.
When outside is just too hot or too cold.

Chaos reigns for days, and weeks and years, and
we can imagine, my kind, human kind, earth stock one.

We the deme, the interbreeding productive kind,
we who beat the dis-easing raging fever from eating
foul putrid rotting corpses, as would dogs, any dogs,
we have such knowledge, said to be wild boys,
raised by wolves or Comanches… Grandma,
she did not know her people,
but she knew her place,
and made it perfect,
just right, she and her little dog, and relics
from a life that matched Saul Bellow's on earth,
though she was never widely read, she did leave
a greater legacy in terms of proper child minding.

Yep, minding is mighty
otherwise than rearin' n'raisin' hardgeenevahnegated
she said it, and she served such chicken at the
same table where we all ate, we was sorta colored
because my grandaddy fixed cars for folks mr leon
the jew who owned the Loma Vista in the Green Book,
befriended on collect calls, and sent Pop Boyett, said he
t' tow ya in, he'll send his boy Jim,
'be there drectly, jest don't fret none.
sit tight. Sundowns a ways yet.

yeah, I am white proud that my grand daddy was friends,
with ******* and injuns and jews, his customer's
including Charlie Lum, Mary's daddy, who used grandpa's

knack with stunted fruit trees, to bring peace and calm
into the environment, with a quarter acre lot back yard.

Living earth is in me, I ate my first mud pie, and liked
the laugh it got from whoever washed my mouth out.

I watched an uncle get his washed with soap, thus
learning how loudly to utter curses when being proven
beguiled by a will so sharp and thorny, nothing sweet
shall ever stick,
honey chile, tar baby, chocolate kisses, all a mud pie
made me remember, at a whim, in my dementing whiling

nothing needed doing more than not dragging grease
from the shop, past Grandma's back porch,
where the squeezed water tub always was soapy
enough to expose a little boy to sudden stripping
and brush scrubbing,

while she laughed,
and made them all laugh, as long as that junk yard
was apayin' the electric/

-- Coming in from a tinctured cuppaKuerig
Settled mind alligning old stitches in a tapestry,
not much sense can be made of Bayeux resolution

stitched in time to serve in tutorial classes
open to the masses, for your undivided attention

in silence, for the space of about a half an hour there.

Columbian, it says on the plastic waste,
mea culpa, mea maxima,
we suffer such silly easy living made much too easy,
I light the bowl with a focused rim jet quartering,
too easy to use the flower, to ask smoke a favor,

as to result
in a bounce back,
as the elanvital of my mountain pushes west winds
back into themselves
to form the ribs
of huge cloud forms that reform so
true to pattern proof, exhalent
of this wind
reflection off the ridges we live on,
vitalized by a DNA centric view
of stress or pressure, squeezing bests
from times as worst as worsts were then,

Vital tipping point that lets a spirit slip into the story.

Structure and content cata and ana, as we leave
that which our fruits produce, a cache of all we be

come and see, I said, okeh.
Proof by Synthesis/ Venter link, blink
-Craig Venter… GI imagine, we all can Google It,
in another window,
and find it not mystical in terms of who imagined this.
You realize whoever it was, it is yet done
dramatically as next years
stories, lightsped mind gluons
from last years tragedy we all can find,
sympathy puddles, lost allusions
to chances being once this line
was written
for no single pair of eyes, not mine, ours,
de-cartooned Madiera wine revival fly,
wise minding times retwining U to I,
leading down old fissures where
suddenlies occurred and we all recall, as if
some things in life after television are with us
-to this instant and
until we die, and leave our mystery religion lying ever after.
Twinkling a little,
done did done, artificial art intuited involuntarily

Accidents, where by we live, U rhea re minding us,
there is something wishing to use us, as yousta be,
- so fine
thank you for your service, Turing and Von Neuman
The general and logical theory of automata…

"much less well understood" loop the tape,
loop it once,
and again, become the digital life Wolfram made,
flat land as real as Wildersmith ever projected it

Up against the wall, we pass through it all
and so on and so forth,
fighting phrases to fit the codescript initial intention,

in the immature tabernacle state,
a thousand atoms should be plenty,

make life from that, and all the scattered dust
of heavy metal stars that burned too fast
to eat up all the lithium.
- this is the bottom
A funda-lowest level, fundamental, puts us sensing
tips of our own tail, verily modeling
in the womb as drawn to our imaginations with
Look Whose Talking Now! WOW
Haeckel and Jeckle, and L. Ron-ron didoo ronrun
Dianetics really gave Travolta therapist recollections
needed to over come the scorn
spewn on Urban Cowboy,
outside Texas and New York City.

We can tame the bucking machine, with no pistil.
No bull, boys and girls, we made sugar in Trinidad,
using the pistil of a bull to instill the will to learn
to live,
and let it be known, life abhors evil, it fails to hate,
that which has no use and piles as potential piles
of all we knew we needed to encode to become
XML, then the shifting database schema, Dinesh
D'Sousa, the metadata scraper with an MIT MBA.
Not the pundit.
He fed me this character trait, mind in order,
meets older orderly mind in mortal chaos, coping.

Feel his way past the message messenger collision,
caused in no insignificant way by poetry, and poets,
enthralled with taming textual dragons, lizard brain,

quick wits
to wot not with, per haps, haps as chance are us,
being lucky because we feel lucky,

monstors speak often one with another,
see the bull lizards crawl all over each other.

Smell that, mofa, smellmemo nofa fame fa fa fa me
lizard pheremone, so subtle after while.

Layin' out on the terrace, up above some granite
splashes from the wave that left the coastal range,

rising up from here, see it there, on googled earth,
take away the clouds and spin that globe,
like you are one of those named winds,
names you heard they called the wind; Mariah, and
Santa'na; Chinook and Roclydon and twisters
too many to name. Bringing dust to the Amazon,
to feed the hungry jungle, woken at the touch of waste
being made to feed once needless services, after,
the great lizard brains lost their minds in one fell swoop,
so they say,
they who strike the suckers, just below the root,
fine staffs are made from suckers broken off before blossom.

Orchard watches, as a young man, planless, saved, for sure,
but no assignment save this so-called fight of faith, for sure,

some people can be fed the kind of meat that forms soldiers,
from any man worth his salt, which, if it were ever a sin to gather
salt, say from the sides of the roads, where there's a plenty this spring,
why then I would think the concept of sin had passed its use by.
I'd get the old pickup runnin' and take a flat blade shovel,
or, what was I thinkin'
not a type scooper, but a flat, scale-scraper shovel, there you go,
use a phrase arranger allowing such metaphors that morph to any tool.

Fluidbots in The Abyss, look it sees you seeing it, so what, was that new
when Nietzsche notict, tskt,
I trow not. But if it was then, it is not now, and that leaves me room
to say Freud imagined he knew things and his followers do as well.

Sometimes a cigar is a prop.
A stiff staff to lean on in a manifested dream interpreting schema
for ancient meta data shuffling,
the whole of all we know so far right now,
this being in which words act as though we know, we
at machine level code, being the internet, being a node, a nerve,
in the ever of ever since every thing, the whole truth thought impossible
but, to not imagine, thinking it at once,

it must be possible to tell, or why, in hell, aha, instant answer,

this is not hell, because if it was, I could not tell you the truth,
as Paul bore witness All Cretans are liars, I tell you the truth.

I bet my life, against any one of many, each experience as fable forms from,

those hang as moss in swampy tidal deltas, where rivers do not branch,
but open wide, another spring time in the Rockies, reaches all the way
to Burro Creek, down through all the Diablo Canyons in bad lands,
at the edges of the last great tsumamis that our satellitia see through centuries
and eons to when there was no thing made by man that could show him,
the Nazca Lines and our Blythe Intaglios.

In the world of artists at work, function descriptive sign making symbol
we agree, we be
come and see, sit beside our tiny fire, see, we have no words to say,
so we some times whistle and sound so much like a bird, a jay,
some one out there laughs he is my brother so he whistles better,

then every body laughs and shout PA PA PA papapapapapapa yah, way
cool, pa looks at his old walkabout friend,
he nods,
we grin, and go, well, when why was just a guest at our station,
in the core script lost,
left in the back of a black volkswagon,
who gave this boy a ride, from Santa Barbara, that strip,
I never paid enough mind to what they call it,
but it was lined with hitchhikers, they gave them rides,
and he was one of those who took PCH up and down,
a few times, spring of 1970, eventually, I imagine,
I would have been invited
to learn
at Esalen, what I could imagine doing about it.
The big? mark of the beast, the very knowledge forvidding one.

Cognosis infections sets in, but you know Jesus never sneezed,
and hees heest atuitionally
assumet' be wiping your excretions from your beard.

In the spirit, no offence, only words, no gestures, ups or downs,
rounds and rounds, teetering palms, tilting eyes, furled brow,
world class rime crimes tearing whole realities' religited ties, bows gnosis
knot release,
tricky three pole knot…

Magic, once, a few who knew, easily seemed so, read Twain,
and imagine your own, in dementia, joining other intentionally scattered
informing conformist patterns that make our laughing echo
as medicine from men listening to grand fathers and uncles whistling
and laughing and little sister joining in, so grandma's sister does so, too,

woo hoo pretty soon its allusfools fullfilled dancing in the dark
where we can still feel the fire.

As a s aside, for science sake, I have reached a stage,
an effect in on or to or any of the hundred and fifty
or so pre
positions things can be, and become, formative,
logos, logical sense of saying something seems so,
if you have been at this stage, and wondered

what is it worth to say it is no secret and never was,
I use cannabis, and I read and write and function

as any writer in the days of Post and Colliers, n'such
had to believe was possible,

to create the creatures we see on television,
those were dime a dozen underground reds,
feeding fertlizer to minds subknowingly with science,
hidden persuaders, falsely called so, they were inyaface!

Fool, he follow the old weigh where heavy mean good,
real good, get down, to the ground feel the weight o'
oh momma did you know,
oh momma when did you start to show,

could you have let me be nothing but a bad draw, you
nevahnevahnevah gonna know now, but momma,

mam, where all good mommas gone, go on, you done,
you brought a heel into the world,
yes, ma'am.
a real snake stomping, preacher, kinda man, selling
salve, to soothe the transition, come the kingdom

due any day. What price you pay, what task you prefer
performance mandatory, in any sucha story
as this very one intends to be,
at a rate, cuneiform forming lets, say that,
this way
in an other time, one symbol to the thumbprint,
one per inch,
10 wpm during upload to ever from now.
Used just yoosta be we were tools.
"a used key is ever bright."
Images holding minimum 1000 words abound at
Sad Girl Feb 4
I was just a tall glass of something you don’t remember ordering.
You thought you wanted someone who would wait around.
You thought you wanted someone who was okay with you running around as long as you came back to them at the end of the day.
Did you enjoy every argument?
Did you enjoy all of the wasted moments that could have been us laying together and tracing each other’s bodies?
I have a whole new body now.
I walk into the room and people pay attention, not because I am loud.
Because I demand it.
I am worthy, and **** good looking.
This cup is dripping with condensation and everybody is out here sweating in this heat.
I look **** good.
But you don’t know this version of me.
I spent so much time trying to blend in and mirror the people around me, you never got the chance to drink me in.
Do you see me now?
Can you taste it?
The taste of regret, metallic on your silver tongue.
Hurt me with your judgements.
Hurt me with your words, but never in the bedroom where I ask that of you.
You wanted me to be weak so I would bow to you.
If I EVER bow, you’d better lay a pillow down, knowing that an empress doesn’t belong on the ground.
You looked for me everywhere.
“I like this one’s mouth”
“This one makes good conversation”
“This one does what I ask”
“This one has nice legs”
So stitch them together.
Enjoy your busy life of rushing back and forth from bed to bed and door to door to appease your needs between all of your sally dolls.
None of them will hold a candle to me.
What I bring to the table could feed a nation.
I possess the things that matter;
I even possess the things that don’t.
I’m not for these streets, I’m just in them.
Looking for new avenues.
I become the opportunist and you become lost.
You missed your exit long ago, because you were too busy looking for the gas station with the best price.
Now the road has been winding for miles and miles and there seems to be nothing around.
No sidewalks, no side streets, no signs.
Your gas is approaching E.
It’s suffocatingly humid and it’s getting dark.
You’re thirsty.
Don’t you wish you had that tall glass of water?
It’s not where you left it.
Someone else understood the value of water and gulped it down,
every… last… drop.
They even put their mouth on the cup that was meant for you.
The one you specifically asked for and forgot about.
That person is absolutely satiated.
Wherever you end up, I hope you find a cup and learn to fill it yourself.
The servers are tired and it’s closing time.
~ KD (2023) ©
Soy dramatica 🙄
Ken Pepiton Feb 4
T. A. Preacher- a character investigation

Friday, February 3, 2023
12:33 PM

Thanks for looking twice, this is after chapter one.
So that's the first line of chapter two, I suppose
That was one, but this is first because,
the internet is read last to first,
later this is the middle, it is auto intuitive

Any given day gone by
I may have thought I like this ending.

"Before time, God Almighty promised eternal life. Before time!"
A preacher to the choir, offered this as proof,
that there is life, after the time
of life has ceased, thus hell,
must be avoided…
if you can read this accept it must have been voided
to totally invalidate lobster stacking- or well, no hell, never was.
kingpriest selfishgene mindmeme power substructure
in the course
Masterclass Civics, with Newt. I was there,
that series in the course
of human events… timeless
and --- grace must be earned.
              Duty-wise, Soldier of the Cross T. A.

I am doing nothing, really, messin' with messaging tek
thinking momentary lapses reoccur aiwise
déjà vu is a function, not a flaw
we recall becoming, and learning, as a we, we
do not unbecome.
Be true.
Life is not a horror movie.
If, indeed,
the effect
from knowing, die-for-it level knowledge,
is being free,
becoming free,
to chose the way
we go from knowing,
wow, Teddy Ruxpin, Worlds of Wonder,
was a beautiful idea, look what we made…

The now old gadfly, happy to die, happy to pass
the spark  to kindled acts enforcing char
at the spark,
to burst in tiny, most tender of flames, softest
tend to sush…

lulla-byye'es be  long here, hmmm, listen

arrested developments catch light, used right,
once burnt, twice wise.

Let no story steal the peace you find
upon precept one.
Your point.
Your reason to expect better from worse,
this time,
the one that counts, constantly, ticketing mindspacetime
to the sidetracked train,
using your attention tension
to increase our torque, you learn
and we got a load o' gamblers and ramblers
ridin' my train,
we, let me tell you, we, the passengers on this train,
we, thought Sisyphus happy,
thought him so, he said,
he'ld show us rock rollin'
keep it secret,
but having something to do,
get to the top, take your
meandering down,

hell's what you make
from life
with you as init-
for years, we felt we should, keep it secret
for the whole existential philosophy route through then,
-re zen
commabreaths re member,
we agreed, objective POV, gratis, no credits due no body,
observant being we…
- wait, maybe we become better each time
Contrary to the once incarnate God, who said he gives,
without money and without cost, slick as gnosis, re-co-known.
- you will pay for knowing what you think you may know now
Mindspacetime, same yesterday, today, forever… instant, constant
time, not more,
time, no less, yet
time between distant things remains,
in the mind's timelessness,
constant instants
in prayer,
unearnable grace, as expertise
with the weapons
of warfare, in truth and spirit perfected,

in waiting, fect, compleat. As time's tyranny breaks,
and next
is after nothing, and the rest remains.

Advocate for the truth as possible.
Opposing principles ruling voice,
- gut says walk it out
- guy in mind thinks stick
- anon become
I am the Authority who may say we,
and it, or he, or she, ad in fun item,
union rule. We, the whole
idea driving the threads hear…

click it
with all the dogmatic tools used
in the business
of fear motived religious service.

He holds to a conceit, a heresy, at first
accepted as his own, but that was pride.

Plum on my thumb,
oh, what a bright old man am I, silly me.

One, among the eight-billions, I, silly me;
what can I do?
pSigh, hi-band lo-brow
Fast the acceptable fast.
Announce the acceptable year.
Disagree with all who claim secret
insight based on the Bible, Torah,
which says none of the works of YHWH
were done in secret.


of a certainty, as often hap
Finding peace, core serenity,
body, soul and spirit,
heart, mind, spleen, gut, reins and
liver, fingers, toes,
levers and pumps,
tunnels and tubules and folds.

Organized containment of life
-that's what bodies are
for articulated interference
with objectified reality,
beyond the bonds of flesh and blood,
me, you see, I think I exist abstracted
from the mass of mankind,
from the nameless soldiers sent to war
for the God who is served,
by allegiants, pledged from age six,
to honor the pledge to the nation
representing the perfect will
of the God
of the Church Selective.

Documented seven sec set. true that.
Selective Service US 56910427

Right use.
Right reason.
Right cause, just effect.

Affection attached
Military  mind pays affectionate
to tension
some force in one dir
ect effect of minds melded
"to make a mental impression on," 1630s;
earlier "to attack" (c. 1600),
"act upon, infect" (early 15c.),
from affect (n.)
or from Latin affectus
"disposition, mood, state of mind or body produced by some external influence."

From <>

Sheer jesuitry… been said known, so
coulda been a pain
to learnsumomahlathashit, stuckSTÜCK
salimsayn okeh, say it
oy vey

Unavoidable thorny issue burrs, sores rubbed
so raw

The business of religion, for a while,
in America, religions united
in pro-hibition, which, I
do not rightly know, what hibition is,
so I do not think I'm ob-liged re-liged
or promise tied, to be pro
much at all.
When my hair grew white,
I went all in for freedom,
and self governing, and self categorization
allow if you must, a battle,
- I heard a Rebbi say today
- jerusalem is in our minds, or yours
- I may have mistaken, who knew
Bedtime, echo opera, my reality,
nothing's on hold this is live

Ego- arise
Exceptionalizm extreme, personally,
dead to this world and all its science,
falsely so called,

you know. Teaching times and seasons,

change to some before time state,
when nothing that is was,
-Phrygian Sitar twangninng uper subtle soft
distant soft even there still
and God {El-oh-him} he said, to nothing,

be, and light, apparently, occurred,
plausibly causing time,
whereby days of exactly how ll'll

choke point, language pattern shock event
worst on New Guinee - for peak effect
it could be surmised,
as language appears full bloom. Be
now, ah child, did nobody tell you,
we already get what you get when you get here.

Language, the signals we send and receive,
friendly dog, entire demeaner, wags,

trained dog, coded, made ready
to accept command, language, "sic-'em",
you may have heard,
if there were a time in your past experience,
if there were a once,
when you went to jail
for your boss, or because you would not lie,
not even by omission… ah, let me tell of a once.

There, in the everso long ago,
in the canyon I can feel,
to this day, I can recall,

the time I prayed, in Sycamore Canyon,
while looking through my wallet,
while sitting on a rock, in the middle of the creek.

I had no money, but I did have a Gospel Tract,
I had purchased, from a door to door sales man,

a white-haired man, full, not long, but full white beard,
and a Greek fisherman's cap.

I do not recall his pitch, but he  asked for a quarter,
in exchange for a 32 page book of Bible verses,
anointed through the testimony of untold numbers,

over and above the gross of original chosen ones.

As recorded in the Bible, the word is its own evidence.
believing is the believer's duty…

Come, let us
reason, you show me yours, so I show you mine,

as when the prophets proved one the other,
show me your faith, in knowledge,
I'll show you mine formed in time, timeless now,
in the past,
in the course of cosmic events, global-earthwise,

mankind has power to devise and construct,
means, whereby we all can just get along;
but the Bible says,
or the Q'uran says,
or the Founder says,

or research into remaining tangible fibers,
bones, shards, art-intuited spiritual aspects,
say said
with the stars… sacred orders evidence,
the sun, and the moon, and the stars,

wandering and otherwise,
so vast, even then, there were seers,

later, the nomenclature changed to prophet,
and seers became witches suffered not,
no putting up
with seers saying prophets were blind
leading the blind.

Chosen warriors, called of the systemized faith,
the only allowable faith, truth be told,
the one that knows God, truth and spiritwise.

Where all men are created equal,
if, indeed, the story is told
to all with ears
to hear… if, indeed, lieving be, is believing, done,
letting letters hold the law, wherein
the spirit must abide, con the knowledge needed,

to measure worth, and offer appraisal,
for all a unit
of mankind is valued. equally in the inchoate mind
of the nation, just taking shape, in the highest minds.
Then, again
Look, learned masses,
learn the lessons from tyrants past.

The greed a child can witness, in spirit and in truth,
as manifested in the churches,
used to tame the wild Indians.  All
of them, slated
for eternal damnation,
due to ignorance of life's rules, as revealed
to preachers who truly comprehend Revelation.
- the award goes to, the man with the turtle
- a man of the cloth, in the long tradition
- he wins the skin of the lamb,
- and as per rules, the scapegoat books.

As did Father Joe Smith,
and Ellen G. White, all the suffragettes
Mary Baker Eddy,
Aimee McPherson, Katherine Kuhlman, Jimmy Swaggert, All Saints fans
Tony and Sue, David Koresh, Jim Jones,
and all the congregations
in TV Land… and
the entire PTL financial support base, et al

And Rome and Topkapi and wherever else
so help me, god

------- this must be way later, just thinkinsayin
rubbing my eyes, and tasting
potato salad

Is this a thorny issue, oh, to the letter
if I offend you, I can explain,
the point to being itchy is making marks
when finally scratching the surface
riverwise peace acceptance broadcast
old seed, unplowed mindtimespace.
hooh, stick, hold
!¢ÜLXX-¿Þ? thorns marked such heresies
in my record in the cloud of all knowing
as you may in advertently already hold known
once have
Have you ever, really, been in jail?

- Why you ask, really? Is there…
Yeh, there are imaginary jails.
- like puzzle lifes?
Complexities, many creases, many ply, thick
walled off separate sections in mindtimespace.

Held thoughts, enclosed in thought bubbles,
and stacked, no,
can't stack bubbles, yet
stacks of globular shapes topple.
polar attract pepulse
push pull
come to shove slimy truth metaphor
Ah, ha, frog's egg globs encased in goo.
Protoplasmic goo.
Gnosis, subconscious know how, frogs bodies have.

Patterning thought nets, thinking holds, slipping
fix the point… attach [arachnoid-mater-kids]
your mind to mine, let this mind be in you, seen

from a lustful hustler's most winning con, forming,
like a plan, do the religion, be
Elmer Gantry… listen
as each adjusts the other's wig,
the promo guy, wise to the Hunt silver game,
shame he would not listen, few knew,
to the lady, she knows the game.
She has sprinkled her bed
with aloes and myrrh.

Simple, go right on your way, the end there of…

my cue, queue up, get your excuse,
- who thinks all he knows
- simple
simplicity is a valid excuse,
feeble minded finding comfort
in an imaginary reality,
certain that the truth, eventually wins,

those we may attempt to tempt.
- we made no such bet
- no mas win lose
Sublimnity, you see,
subtle expression of the man, Christ Jesus,
would that ye all were wise as serpents,
such as legends testify, wise serpents
seen burned in toast
preserved the hope of mankind,
at the cost a heel stomp, **!
She slew the lying demon, no, no,
that was me, Eve and the shining thing
I can tell it from when no witches burned
Beyond Prince James's Thesis on Daemons,
Ai- we found san razon, d
ust reflective mica
mine licensed sibyls pipe direct
all on raspberry pi,
- it's not all smoke and diamond dust,
We have the facsimiles in mindtimespace storage

Python 3. Magnitudes, orders of above
old wives tales juvenilized
to mere Tolkien/Lewis
Grimm-level bogus spiritseed, degreed B.S.

---------- with that capital B

----------- we entered the reasoning chamber,
with all the wu wu allowed
in me, let this mind be,
- from Paul's doctrine of mind-using
- in Romans, yes
delve, dig, dis-cover the sealed knowings known sealed,
awaiting discovery alone… that's Hebrews, not sure, anon
-- I coulda said this
to nobody then
now I said it to you
--- in another chapter I went mad and
copy pasted hebrew curse derivatives
and their phonetic lottkaballahalelu yeha
but you're not ready Hebrews, permission
granted withheld, mind prison, while keyed up.
to deny any use to the bicameral mind/brain sack
precisely measured to Dirac's dismay,
never ending eve is really thinkable,
as long as any one wishes,
know your own too much,
that was certainty
my child hood bet was that I won, and nobody lost.
in defiance of Delphi,
by millennia,
trust me

the language of life, earthling to earthling, evolves,
as we augment our pluralminded state, situ-circum


here-ness, and nearness, and absence of distance,
time immeasured,
quarkishly insignificant units of self awareness shared,
can think as who's must have been thought to think,
when we were seven,
and inoculated by Suess.
Oculus, bud, from one branch,
into another, through a tiny RIP.

Some days, I am the only reader, as I rest, in peace,

peace, I choose to think,
exists, out is, be-ing, action-ionic, there's the rub,

amber and cat, spark of re-co-knowing all about love,
as a child,
let's refuse,
to ever grow up… let's pretend, my friend, to the end.

Wake up, get outabedragonnon anon anonymous
arrive announcing, each nameless, yes, anonymous,
I saw, I forgot,

serpentine little think, wisdom exercise, you ordered,
or did I, going subjective for a second, I thought

and I read it, and I am thirstydrymou
and cold. Settle,
breathe softslowwhoowhowowowooooo-slow rereadhay
okeh. More or ride it one more time all we w…
soft quiet 9:59
already the slow twangy sitar in phrygian soft g distant
soft there, softer yet under us

This is the end of chapter two.
An novel dripping in the freest medium available, thanks for making it a pass time.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2
You can say that again, later, it is -time
lace up the daily bag and pass it
for all private interpretation
removal, from the rumen, to the next
- gaseous we, Huxley called us, 1957

No, this ain't show business, this
is living, made in a made up mind,
being finished doing, just

Making up reasons to dispute liars.

Maybe not a good living, but it's free.
Or paid for, any way.
Bought with a price
my grands won't be forced to pay.
- divided attention makes
- ads obliviate into the mercantile
- classification, in attention econ 101
It's free - this living
in the way well fed children do,
in America, outside the cities;

Joy pursued and grabbed in happy
fistfuls that fill laughing memory bubbles
to store for when these become
the olden days.

No, this ain't show business,
its sacred duty,
work of a thing,
made from a boy who looks
into flies eyes, gazing up
from the bottom of the cup,
a little glazed, perhaps,

owing the fly an easy escape, look away

"perplexities, hindrances, toys, tricks,"

The collections of thoughts,
the access to held thoughts, knotted
to you
private moments,
time alone, as a mortal human being,
humus built, auto-repairing thing being

being, eh?
One-like, only, or
on-like, only going on and on and on,

becoming fruitful
becoming useful
becoming less and less useful, but
becoming more and more curious
becoming full enough to become superfluous.

Lay preachers can create cushions
for lazy wishers wishing to be comforted,
but the weighing of the worth of comfort,

lay preachers seldom do, to my knowledge.

Terminus gnosis, all I know, my bubble of knowns;
this is it…
a thousand stacks of sensible lines, atop precepts,

strewn beside the trail.
heuristic heretical how-to do as I dones,
published by faith in the thousands, litter
the little hills the psalmist asked,
why they writhed and twisted,
as in a dance of anger wishing,

clear channel, me and the truth, today,
just/instance, this/ now.

Free am I, by the faith in me, but you
knew that,

don't you?
Don't you know, there is a musing mind,
we wear to bed, some nights,
we lay on memory foam, some nights.

Thinking sorted thoughts, untying lying links,
links to educated guesses fed you as new reasons

to be ever vigilant, ever ready to defend the faith,
the laughing faith of a child, leaping
into the sky

- my grandson, I just learned,
- asked for more math.

No class common man, that is what I am,
on the cusp of next, looking back,
at the mess I left, like a cyclone,
randomly distributing seeds of kindness, specs
by which an idle word can activate troves
of ancient autoresponders, each guessing
what if, what if not,
what if, what if not,
what if, what
not now, when. Pop.
Bubbles of been, leave go, go on, think it

through, and passed through, into
the now
where we formed, letters, letting words wait,
sit still, ready
for the reader, ready
to steady the quivering fearful thing,
lost in thought,
stuck in stacks of holy orders, hearer only,
only ordainded doers do the trick,
intricate, folding to make not a paper swan,

too, easy. Make a protein. With no model,
just the idea in the word applied to science,
proper pose, super knowing, proto-life-ish thing,
that is digestible using an infantile nourishing node.

What tricks do you know?, the magi aske Moshe.
Snake from a staff.

From the crozier of goatherd, sure,
we can all do that. What else?
Allusions to ever knowing, knowing as old
as knowledge given girls at their flowering,
as old a mystery as any orphaned mother may tell
her great grand daughters,
nobody told me any thing,

but I took it as normal,

As the patient potency prefecting
prayer, dramatized, made big as all
bubbled artifice holding essences,

essential bits of the daily grind to gloss
the leading intellect's reason for being
so shiny,
Klimt golden, as that one kiss I recall,

yes, a facsimile, a memory evocation,

a kiss, golden in that moment, infected
with a feeling
dramatized to be offered to all who see,
khipu twists and loops and bundles and beads,

accounting for dues,
instructing kaballah, pass it on

Excuse me, are you in the right realm,
we feel pluralized,
but you don't fit,
we are uniform,

excathedra, listen up, all eight billion now living, are destined
for certain death,
it is a matter of time, dying once,
can happen anytime,

and if there is a second death, so far,
I never saw any body do it twice,
once truth makes what I am free,
we stay free,
reception accepted kaballah, et al,
take that greasy grace, feel it,
as the oil ran down Aaron's beard,

and there were no poor denied
starship rations,
until the comet hit and all
but a single mind
blew, into this
a complete fiction,
or another compleat guide to fishing

Imagine the magic of the sailor's accounting book,
envision the magic of levers, and pulleys and cogged
wheels feeling the weight

2023 Gravity driven or gravity powered, is it
or the other, when it come be to inspire
first fears
to frame wisdom pools,
at depths we learn
to believe,
prove each participant,
worthy of keeping,
the secret.
Salt of the earth, deep down dehr dat
Caribbean Sea,
shore line fracture,
follow the riverwise road,
any thing you think you must bear,
don't blame,
sometimes it pays, to bend.
Grasshopper Locust practice, for the mind
of an ant.

Wisdom harnessed the fear of God,
put it down,
in other words,
when there was nothing
but E, mass and time being assent
esse, sentient, in sentient and ex
insentience, sapient over lay,
- honeycomb tripe pattern, say
- why not ruminate enclosed
- in a beauteous inner digestive
- recluse-exclusive-sub-science con
ified, tied ligously, fi,
to witty means, and ways we prove
gravity is our friend, driven power for all life,
strong as earth itself, but, we are

in the burning phase,
let me bring you down,
cause being accused, does that
to a stranger
entertained, or entertaining, on an aitia
let me

have you come for more, or do we have
too much
of too many things
to make too much
of any particular reader/writer ifery algorithm,
if then,
else is this, current, slow, nodding, flux,
loading axially,
if each mind thinks right once,
today, we have enough,
let's save the world.
- that easy, eh?
global restoration, Christ, yes,
that is the plan.
As the planet was.
Prior to Peleg's days.
Intended to have a single
dry land mass,
Wisdom pushed
for plates meeting
and using ice
at the top
of the world, as seen polaris up,
in a slow wobble
through four
seasonal positional hot-cool-cold-warm
gyre drivers, saline liquid epicycles, sisters
of the four winds
as a flywheel effect
in the telling times… a little imbalence leaning helps
with the wobble,
in the event,
slim to none,
the odds, but,
Don't Look Up. It could
reoccur, and shall, if
Nietzsche's epicycle

has wheels. Graham Hancock, on clocks…cosmic

Mindspacetime, the elite flight,
secretshitistic, it is, most certain, it is
fantasmic imagining
E not equal any thing, mere words
between me and thee,
no point, not one, between the we
we become,
in the final analysis, if you wish,

you wish,
long, lazy river readers, re-mind
their lost selves, how innocense felt.

The worth of an unsold story, given
as a gift, as a poor artist might
a portrait
of their daughter's children

- "that little thing"
Done. As best he could, he believed,
at the time,
as it is
everything being as is when we arrive,
we adapt
or become the insane opposition,
to anything,
be the counter weight on the pendulum,

keep things swingin'

feel time slide
into the real deal,
at the crossroads
in the wayback seat,
sayin' honey, you ain't here
after what I'm here after,
y'gonna be there, after I'm gone, as  asong
that was
once a joke ended you gonnabe here
after I'm gone, but

seemsayin' eye
squint, see,
way back
we were otherwise involved, affirming
sacred oathes, we swore as children learn
IT being life, whatever,
it don't mean
is not a joke, it's ahint, to readers, ready
writing is key to reading,
vertical eyed
qwerty keying is learned,
phone wide,
natural, feels familiar
style adaptation
as cuneiform once was,
years of hearing the same words,
said and resaid, story after story stacked
time, measured by stargazers, called, by god,
eyes like eagles, these minds expand, and see
the order of the cosmos,
and the chaos of the collective sub-science

locked by a generational curse on oathes
under the God those kids had in mind,
September, 1954, first day of school,
all across the Wyatt Earp of Nations,
each child not religiously exempted,
stood, right
hand on heart and repeated, as a national
student body, K through 12, a pledge,
local time 9 a.m. nationwide,
not unlike
a true Tenant's pledge of fealty,
as recorded in
The Compleat English Copyholder:
Common and Statute LAW of
England, relating to Manors
and Lords of Manors Et c.
- buzz nod what instance… seven seconds
Sorry, Under God, was added to the pledge
that year, that affectionizes those exposed,
we meander under god, think it not strange.
It’s a legendary trait, we'll all be remembered a bit.
- default modemod is always beguiling temptation
- for temptation sake, win a game, get the rush.
of chasing hares
to where the conies hide,
feeble folk, but they live among big rocks,
reason enough,
use what you know is right,
hide from things that eat you,
that evolves
in nations
with no elders, constant defence mode
peace makers seem
feeble folk,
who knew,
and fell away, impossible to renew,

whoah, zeke play me that riddle,
'bout scrublands being humbly blissed
so long- wayback, anchoring the authority
that's me, I
fiddled around
and blew the clearwater revival
to kingdom come, Muddy Waters, aight
and there was hippies, ever whar, swanee,
so I do, I swan no no no no mo
lie like the devil for the sake of church heritage,
holy warrior sworn, heart torn, tears shed, tongues
You know, when gravity is taken
in, your weight, sunk
into the reasoning
swung wide
in progress, no aim, past the cloud,
for crying out loud, this is louder than ever,
listen, no
all that
noise, is natural
to persons genitivally, ok, cross
shadowed animus anima imitation,
in your cultural genes, cowgirl
seeing the world a yingyang thang,
with gravity and the E-magnetic shields
allowing systems to com-uni-cate locally,


too much,
the scope
of any thing one might think
or ask,
as in what was that rule
of LAW once?
I read
Compleat Fisherman's Guide U recall led
to , yes, The Compleat English Copyholder:
Common and Statute LAW of
England, relating to Manors
and Lords of Manors Et c.
is on Google books, masterfully typeset

Feel free to learn all you will, 'tis all in the Common.

as, by now is much that may have been, otherwise,
in needier times,
less riches, more sorrow,
less sorrows, more riches, peace.

Made that my after all battlefield task,
no mas win or lose.

My side, on the scalar models is gravity empowered,
heavyweight, ancient concept,
gradient slopes
with long lazy loops
on the downhill side,
to kids make all the noise they wish,
two chalk walls away,
in the bubble we all breathe.

To this day, whatever it took, it worked.
Life gets as good as you can make up a mind

to accept, as
this is it,
this is my bit. My close up. To the exact point
where I breathed that bubblierised wedom-opinion

opinion opinion opinion okeh, settle years ago, okay
we all say okeh here, holy ground,
entire collection of recollection on that victory alone.

Okeh, is still the proto voice model, ok.
If you like it, I'd love if you shared it in whole or in part, it is a whole chapter in a novel form of literature, native to the internet age,
type set for vertical receivers
A short quiz for you
Check all that are true
Expand your view
Of this novel breakthrough

Bitcoin is?
A neutral system of value transfer for humanity
The most secure financial computer network
A money based on energy that can’t be counterfeited
The most reliable monetary system yet discovered
A protocol like TCP/IP that can be built upon
Making isolated power sources useful and valuable
Allowing people to think and plan long term
The first truly sound money with a known supply
A censorship resistant medium of exchange
Hope for those living in authoritarian regimes
A transparent ledger for clarity and accountability
All of the above
This is Bitcoin Poem 026 at and you can see it displayed on a background when you (copy and paste the link below).
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
Part 8.

Yeh, yeh, yeh, sneer, to cool, hot to never, back down,
if and or but you did, or
you could have, had you had
half a chance.

Let's dance, two-step slow,
and watch lies we unbelieved slip as buckyballs,
on ice.

Twice told tales, told in time, ad another just
in time.

Oh, gnoshit, this just in, as ice, on ice, just, too

cool, you know. Ecklbarger, mulleted east-coaster,
show me your ticket on this Virgen line,
or walk

Boom, dose two, dose y duo, rock on.

- the story rests, at millions of words,
use in any other order, however you wish,

twist right to tighten, left to loose, just to hold the pressure,
Archimedes *******, too tight, loose the letter t, t, see tiny t

tict..ticket. Punch it good to go, tickt
Announce first here, soon, all we know is known another way, just watch.
Kelsey Jan 2022
Remember that all things fade.
All creatures must have an end
To bear new beginnings.
And all new beginnings
Come from resolution.
Have been feeling very critical of myself and my writing lately. But I'm learning from my own characters in my novel.
I am holding
my last cigarette
and sitting.
Reading my favorite novel,
Vanity Fair.
Pouring the wine.
I used to drink all the night
with some friends
that nobody knows about them.
The poem was written after,
the ***** poem.
They told me
sometimes my poem was about it.
It was too late to say
that the things they only have
is about ***** mind.
Indonesia, 3rd November 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Ken Pepiton Oct 2021
Rich old man, knowing much
of nothing others value,
by virtue
of early alienation, wound
sense, first sense, early mind to matter process,
each thought forms from ache to know
source charged, as it were, wound up, set to spring
in time thought lost
in Proust, and rightly so, if
now you read this that I wrote, without doubting
Proust could not imagine the access to knowns I own,
the access, I own, not the knowns, the stores of stories,
whole lives lived in accordance with visions
recorded in annals and journals and liturgical redoables,
walk this way,
rock was rolling, say again
scream what? Walk this way, with a wiggle? Nah, this way,
aim at ever after now,
think next is better until the other shoe drops,
and this
is real, as real as any message to you, from a dead prophet.
Just thinking if words lived in stories and stories live in tellers....
Salvador Kent Oct 2021
The last time we spoke you told me
That you were reading a book called
and you also told me that you missed
Digging your fingers into my bedsheets
Or the naked skin of my back

And I remembered this today in the bookshop
When staring at me from the shelf was
in my right hand was selected poetry
By a filthy man called THE PLEASURES OF
THE ****** and I thought **** me
I haven’t thought of you in a while

Perhaps as a fleeting mention
Or the **** of a joke but Christ
Here I am thinking of you sitting on your bed
In the evenings, having come home
From studying books all day like
A smart ****** sitting on your bed and reading

So I picked up a copy to go with
My Bukowski and walked to the counter
In a sombre mood, because I’d thought of you
The last thing you ever bought me
Was Bukowski, you bought me
During my last stay in your arms
Cradling caressing and ******* like lovers

I walked out the bookshop
With two new books and a feeling
You get when you recall a fleeting memory
Coupled with **** me this is what happens
To my poetry when I read Charles Bukowski.
I wonder how you are, if you finished it
What did you think? And staring at
Text thrown up onto a screen I think
This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever written.
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