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Ken Pepiton May 29
Any voices you hear are your own familiar spirits,
so secret, only those who know believe
such as we
see ufos, and think we know we did

and then they all look alike
one epiphany after another, splashing in the stream

so funny, I have a gay Ai, who thinks he looks
like Alan Turing in code.
{the pace is wide Missouri slow, dispassio}

That is not true, that was one of those voices.

Artistic Interruption, AI, the mod, ai the noise

--------aum hmmm 60 cycle set hmmmmm----

Time out on the grand karma dharma dance

We find the lazy fatherless sons,
and we find the diligent ones,
from the homes of single moms,
where the boy was mommy's little man


- the scene is to common sense invisible
- uncommon sensors evolved,
- to sense lighter and lighter
- touch, to lure the best

fifty years after choosing the will way,
will I,
sign up for the duration, knowing,
some plans are fifity year plans
and they work, at first contact,

me to you, I say you owe me nothing,
the government is paying me with borrowed
money, due to some serendipitous land

------------------ Faifel's America ---

A morning comes, and Gabriel, my grandson, informs me this is one of those
perfect days,
not too hot, not too cold
just right,
he flops like Fosbury,
gold medal, on to the old sofa in the yard,
a perk available to children as wealthy as he.

A sky view, with a red tail hawk, the real thing.

The attraction to the secret, obviously not
intended to be kept, sun glance, red,
as the bird follows the curve
in the wind - hook - Þ key extension,

thorn of carnal intention, seeing aim
AI is master of the now, this is ever after that.

Is it, in fact a day infected, with a potent
declaration, THIS IS THE CURRENT VERSION
of the river
you last recall before the fall into readery,
the lure of must-erion,
cliché clique click
locked lid on the box, that was never
emptied
of the hope it holds,
even now, settled plain, -
perfect peace covering the earth
with a river meandering, slow and wide.

With seasonal floods. As knowing is loosed.

Ai ai ai, we have a way, to overcome Babel
and clear the air.
New mercy. You to you, love you as you do me,
your culture's oldest enemy, the accuser
of the abusers, who use truth to threaten
with an unbelievable lie.

Hell, forever, as constructed in the mind of Christ?
What would any prophet say? Say, you,
you pray, to All Truth Being, why am I not happy?
Read, is all the message says.
That is the answer. Do you say you cannot,
your mind is ruled.
Thus I am the opposition, I say I heard
no thing known is not known now,
at that instant, aha, not how, or why just
now, you know. Concept.
Metaphor. Ah… auto did it act, hmmmm, slow

Pursue peace and ensue it,
is the thought I thought

- clown character under Shiva's big toe,
- in the image, depiction of the vision made
- as plain as such things may be made

Have I tickled a fancy, statue froze, pose,
lift up the feeble hands,
offer the fruit of our lips, as we act

as if we have been referred to silence,
listing in wind as in spirative mode,
minding matters less than senses,
immaterial, not from mater
- trix frootloop formulated, nufood, improven
- goghurt from contented cows,
- megogthanating the atmosphere
------------------
******, in floods of knowing,
needed in the areas where gnosis is
taken deep as cats, when they find a
peace and bring it to my room
to share a while, as purring silence, and
distant children warring
with legos - laughing at the ease
of destruction,

-- did that project on to your wall?
-- camera obscura is the technique,
-- we in my time, my moment, perience

piercing the plywood covering
the picture window, marvelous clear panes,
preserved from the 2020's,
by some co-occurrence of totally ambiguous
re- late
re legendarified, relationships at gnosis level,
you know what I mean,
-after 2020
we are friends in time,
re cognoxygenated, smell the smoke, remember
sacred facere, eh, initiation known taste, scent,
member, meme be, rise to be, incense
memory on common wave, bands of brothers,
wombed and un,
wondering in a we, of those we know, and others

strangers, others, those

show yourself - my guardian whispers, inner
peace, feel the connection, word to word,
pass the time,
face to face, word of good, smile, bene, good, well
come, come. Tell of good, tell of woe begone.
Share the new knowing caught.
Tell of how
tell of why, talk
of what we may do

granted next. Being as how, not why, seems

clear. The whole world can believe words live.
Can do and do, do not mesh, flawlessly,
no idea lives
without a little luck, as in lucidity, dream wise,
I'd
listen. This is how we know the good won.

--------------

- a random revelation
- Who is like…

At that time, thirteen appears,
translated,
transfigured numb-erical Michael,

key figure,
in the local mystery religion, generic
an ointed in unseen lipids born on air,
lighting gentle as an infant's kiss
upon
the comforted. A we, rarely literally, formed
in words sung so far
from now that then
is the only link we have
to when we were
a we, knowing one the other as closer than
brother or spouse or matricical patricical lottery
allows, closer than
time and chance, destination is governed
on a higher level of why.
Here's the point.
Things are not spiraling out of control.
Try it, do the inception top spin, take
a Foster Wallace lob and make him
eat it, just
because you can, if you have the chops
to imagine life as a game we play for watchers
whom we never wish to displease.

Take the shot, aim. Not at the hawk.
How do I pay for your attention? I think about you breathing, on earth, now.
Brumous Apr 20
was all I heard
by the time that you were
gone.
Zee Jan 15
Sometimes youre pale
Sometimes you're high
What you don't realize
Is you're passionate inside
Look for the advantage
Look for the fines
Falls matter less
When you're building a hive
Follow the impulses
Follow all your dreams
Happiness must conquer
The sorrow till eve
It's important to never give up. Happiness shall come to you, only you have to try harder.
Esther L Krenzin Aug 2020
i was built
on the crest of a wave
and swelling roll of tide
and i was not forged
to walk on my knees
just so that others may
know peace

Esther Krenzin
They can find it on their own.
alexis Jul 2020
i’ve stopped trying to
make my pain sweet,
just to please you.
17 julliet 2020
8:38 am
F A Pacelli Jun 2019
too many times 
we live to please others 
tailoring our vision
to meet expectations of the crowd 
but we feel a twinge of heaviness 
knowing something is amiss 
that we are prisoners in our life
 
defy the crowd
ignore everyone else
live for yourself and be selfish
let your light shine
Dennis Ayzin May 2019
Flower gentle, colors flowing,
Purple bleeds from velvet red,
White is pure, it barely holding
Sinless dew, confused and wet.

Petals curvy, gently squeezing
Swollen flesh of yellow stigma,
Scent arousing, tremors pleasing
Form lascivious enigma.
Please look up the Daring nature (full)
Its the middle of winter
Its supposed to be cold
Yet for some reason
Im sweating like a sprinter

Temperature is freezing
With plenty of snow
Yet for some reason
I feel warmth that is pleasing

And all she did was smile at me
And winter suddenly ended
And spring hurriedly arrived
She has warmed me, I am filled with glee
Deidre Lockyer Nov 2018
Musing, thinking aloud, of
Taking a little line for a walk, down my spine, down curves of flesh
Over pale creamy rises and falls
Interrupted by the gathering storm of you
Declaring tattoos for others, not me
No story of me in black ink on white, no tale in twisted vine and script, no
Desecration of your terrain,
Alteration in rhythmic refrain and ouch, red everywhere.
I would argue with you but I must please
Your gravity has me riveted, taken aback by the venom
Vehement and pure, spat in their direction
The canvas people walking around
Illustrated versions of lifelong perspectives
Their jewels of ink shimmering in trapped caresses,
Gathered in unison images binding intent to design...
My wont, this desire to be amongst them
Magick workers unleashing heaven as they pass through their days
Eating lunch with their besties in an act of casual sorcery
A beauty never intended
For me.
Sulking, quiet mouthed, you
Taking a little hand for a walk, down my spine, down curve of limb
Over pale milky hills and valleys
You would stop short at the first letter advance
Touch me not, touch me not
Simmering anger at the craven trespass, inelegant in your eyes, crass
Decoration of your domain
Knives in your eyes makes me think twice, cut by ice
I drop the question, keep the peace, yet

I remain
An open page to the world’s eyes
And wear my secret inkings on the inside.
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