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Ken Pepiton May 17
does that blow your candle out?

Ready, reader of the perfect press,
as long as the culture of the internet
persists, expanding with useless data

subconscious meta data we used to
make into these tools that force define
phrazes, like we used to…

what- oh, time, we used to do with
think through, used to make sense,

common inert intelligence all readers have.

Did you read the entire cereal box, each time?

You are imaginably a perfect round vessle,
to snuggly fit where the perfect square,
set at convenient lifting level in the hull,

Allows the amphora chance, heave, **
lug the jugs, raise the anchor

set sail, be on our way, for such a long day,

the mind and Psyche are one, a we and an I

is more than one partical of mind, we use

to fit time in a klein bottle. Ai, andjaknow

it is so now that never has a prayer of ever
happening, and that never doesn't make sense.
Did you never wonder about those big pointy bottom jugs
in roman republic to tyranny movies?
Tony Tweedy Oct 2023
Oh the things that my eyes have seen,
the many places walked I have been.

Upon peak and trough did I roam,
rarely knowing a place called home.

So many turnings along my way,
passing on through to seldom stay.

Staying as long as life allowed,
more times alone than in a crowd.

Beautiful faces that came and went,
both good and evil sometimes sent.

With words sometime of the softest kind,
echoing shrill calls yet within my mind.

Words once soft now turned to stone,
where faces vanish until left alone.

Upon road so full of twist and turn,
until a heart can no longer yearn.

Corners met that were never turned,
unseen paths that were never learned.

Future's short path left to travel on,
in time memory fades and it too is gone.

Things I was and all that I saw,
gone forever through the closing door.

How long then be there just a trace,
that my soul and I ever saw this place.

To dust and particles we all will decay,
those once met too will just fade away.

Until even memories of all are no more,
of a life full lived that no one even saw.
The stream of life and human existence.... a species long journey along an unknown road. Was there a beginning? Is there an end?
Man Jun 2023
Another night,
Where I feel completely alone
Surrounded by people I care about.
What's the point?
Love coming at the price
Of self-sacrifice,
Break my body
Take control,
But what do you know?
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2022
Shelter Island,
Sat Sep10

on the south west edge of the isle,
the slowrise sunrise just behind the trees,
so early day yet, no full frontal of a sun
bathing to wake up woman, babes asleeping, but the
animals know exactly this hours early

indeed, the crazy squirrels are random
hither and dithering in spurts of energy,
only stopping to observe a viewing of the humans
nest~resting through the glass doors with their
inquisitive, self-possessed, bedside reckless manner,

the suns pealing gleaming gleanings picks
out any shiny reflective surface that enhances
its low-rise greeting, with a chorale of living objects
singing “Hallelujah orb, what’s in store for us today,”
river~bay, wake-less, its becalming, marbling surface, again,


I’m mugged by the perfection intersection of
my eyes-scape, first coffee, the holy quietude, only
the regular soft breaths beside, lend a counterpoint
to these thoughts and the litany of chores the iCal happily, annoyingly,  prematurely but with certainty lists, resistance (Walk!)
perfectly ok.

ok not to move an inch, watching this daily movie rerun,
that energizes hope, a contemporary localized contented without the
humdrum of blaring headlines, talking heads, and the
infiltration of the guilty unfulfilled responsibilities demanding a due,
then heavens signal me, Donovan, earbud singing Colors, confirmed
perfectly ok!

Yellow is the color of my true love's hair
In the mornin', when we rise
In the mornin', when we rise
That's the time, that's the time
I love the best

Glazel Salundro Aug 2022
"... and we were like parallel lines. We were not destined for each other and will never be."

"It depends on what type of geometry you're referring to. In hyperbolic geometry, parallel lines meet at an ideal point - a point at infinity. I don't mind living in hyperbolic space. Would you?"
Andrew Rueter Jun 2022
There’s an online article with a bullet point of cities
• to which the bullet pointed
underneath those cities is a bullet point of schools
• to which the bullet pointed
underneath those schools is a bullet point of names
• to which the bullet pointed.

Underneath that article is a bullet point of comments
• from which bullets point
underneath those comments are bullet points of discourse
• from which bullets point
underneath that discourse lies our nature
• from which bullets point.
No single point of failure
In the worldwide Bitcoin net
No access for the hacker
To see what they can get

No single point to regulate
When governments oppress
No governmental overreach
No thank you - we’ll take less

No single point for dominance
For a group to change the plan
The core code is immutable
Set in place when it began

No single point of weakness
No inflating to gain power
Like Ulysses - we plan ahead
To stay safe in the siren’s hour

No point where we discriminate
Or allow the “favored few”
To gain the wealth of Bitcoin
It’s for all - including YOU

“No single point” brings benefits
And freedoms - in its wake
So let’s promote “no single point”
For us, and our children’s sake
This is Bitcoin Poem 014 at and you can see it displayed on a background when you (copy and paste the link below).
My Dear Poet Mar 2022
Trying to get my  .                                across
It then comes to a point where in there are no more tears left to be shed
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