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Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
What are you conserving, I asked my unread conservative friend.
The American Way

he said.
Like
in the songs, like back when Superman
was black and white, but

we knew,
his kryptonic heart
was read pure white and blue

and we still know,
green greed and
black time and chance, if those were never re-
al-ified, he could be,
he could be but,
for that militarial industrial mental complex
which made
Daddy Warbucks
money-ify Kryptonite,

other wise Superman would save us, so
we conserve the idea of America, as a spirit,
Drums and fifes and shots fired round the world

we stand, for the American way. Superman would.
--------

With what deeds are you judged liberal,

I asked my friend whose hero was Fidel,
when he was ten.

My friend, swift to answer, ready, with a bullhorn:

my writing and my speaking and my teaching are liberal.

Those lable you? what is deemed liberality for which
ye are judged?

Oh, I am not judged, I am in the adminstrative side,
I administer social justice by allowing critical
appreciation of the sense under lying
dadaistic community
gardens. which produce liberal reasons for
deeming faith a very low class
exercise in sapient sapience.

Whom teach ye?
Those who are sent to be taught by selection committees,
who sort tests, based on statiscal
weights and measures pre
dicted apriori for the best
social cultural
outcome.

Who pays you? Each of you.
con-server, liberal,
Who weighed your worth
in this fifty-fifty polictic project,

organical and all,

who runs the show? Is it spiracy?

Are elections pre ordained?

Was W. called by Oil and Trump oracled by Konami?
Was Barack Husein simply gas?
A UFO illusion?

Some thing the gut biome of the nation
burped or expelled from other orficees?

How did the assets of the fed expand
4.5 times since 2008,

when all I had conserved melted
with deflation of

the noise, zeitgeistiical,
humm, hear it? Do you?
Brainless axiomatic synaptic static?

Manifest destiny? Google it.

No. I checked. Not preordained. Things change.

This is the way.

Good went, thataway... and william tell
was told that apple held meaning...

cue the overture...
butadump butadump butadumpdumpdump
boomer audio meme keys
the
dream, with wikipedia and etymonline links.

aha, meaning...
the arrow never held, the message vibrated in the oak
at a point
in time. Okay, dress rehearse, masks on.

The point of the story is, good news.
it is finished.  Spaceship earth, nothing broken, nothing missing,

We have crews seeking survivors.

one day at a time. Share the road, share the load,
pay the piper, rule your realm,

make peace the leisure you worked for,
call enough enough

Remind them of the flight they all recall,
ask them if they ever dream
unknown
realisms in the realms of reasons re
cognized
in poetseerprophessor metaphors, in which

no warrior could act

as a liberal conserver re
pairing wind blown circuits.

Our peacemade hero inquisitor
of truth,

the wise king, retires on the dragon's hoard and
laughs at how easy it all became,

after imagining how Poke' mon really works,
in an open state of mind.

"A republic, if you can keep it." that was the dream.
The dream Plato imagined could work,

if we could get past that
neccessary fiction war insisted was traditional.
Intended for the verbatim bookstore open mic, 4-8-2019
Nikki No Love Jul 2018
It tooks so long to realise
To see it how it is with your eyes
It started but never stoped
The cycle continuing as more people adopt.

A down-ward-spiral
A poisonous plauge
A spiteful tittle
It makes you beg.

It starts with toxic ideals
And young innocents it steals
Then it lasts for generations
Staying with people's fixation
Its almost like.. recreation.

"I went through this, so can you"
"I fought a war, you can too"
"Get off your *** and be what I do"
"You're as worthless as the gum on my shoe"

And so continues the cycle of abuse
Until someone sees the nature of this noose
After torturous thoughts relentlantly pursues
And the cycle of broken homes and tourcherd souls, ends
And health becoming the new trend.
Daisy Rae Nov 2017
I don’t hate him
I just wish I hadn’t fallen for his little game
I don’t wish him bad omens
I just pray he doesn’t do the same to other girls
I don’t tell his secrets
I just let people figure out his intentions on their own
I don’t miss him
I just have an aching in my chest when I think about him
I don’t cry over him
I just stay up at night contemplating the pain he caused me
I do forgive him
But I don’t forget the scars he left
I don’t forget the lies he fed me
I don’t forget the things he took from me
That I will never get back
I don’t forget the feeling of unworthiness
And I will never forget the words he said
As we neared the end
I don’t hate him
But I don’t love him either.
I hold no animosity towards the man who broke me, for without him I wouldn’t be as strong as I am today.
Derrick Feinman May 2015
When machines are cheap,
Reliable, exact, fast:
People can't compete.

— The End —