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If I let slip the joy I take in knowing hell ain't real,

that's cause you ain't me,
and there is a difference, deep down inside, some
kind pride,  my kind
ffestestical gee hosed the phat, *** that
one fact
from the entire mess of blue tooth cross signals, dude,
no wires
this is chaos of thought, but for the index
think it touches sense of
some thing
soft and familiar,

look down, old man reflex to see the sleeping dog,
that no longer lays long days by his side.
test 502
All we need is enough
Enough clothes
Enough food
Enough recreation
Enough sunshine

In a world of too much
Too much sugar
Too much alcohol
Too much entertainment
Too much screen time
Too many belongings

Prosperity is Enough
This is Prosperity Poem 123 at and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below).

The seed of this poem was from an interview with Michael Saylor, the CEO of Microstrategy.  He was saying that we just have too much of everything, and we only need enough.

There are of course those in the world who do not have enough.  If the rest of us are content with "enough", then there is more to share with them.
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You can decide. You can create
You are the weaver of spirit
You conquer over whim and fate
Embrace creation - don’t fear it

You are the reason earth is here
Rejoice in your will and power
Share this message for all to hear
And remind yourself every hour

You are the actor of your “play”
So play up an excellent part
Rise up with hope this very day
Each creation a brand new start
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More of your life is in YOUR power than you ever dreamed.  If we aren't consciously creating, then we resort to habit and expectations to form our life.

This poem is about YOU and the ability to shape your life.  Play up an excellent part!
In My Mind’s Eye
The images pass by

I can let them simply fly
If my will I don’t apply


With purpose that I claim
I can imagine with an aim

Create my new designs
And break from life’s confines

For mind’s pattern - freshly made
Is with matter overlaid

Use the eye within your mind
And prosperity you’ll find
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One of the single most powerful skills YOU can learn is how to create with your inner vision.  Use your Mind's Eye consciously and with focus!

We all use our Mind's Eye, but many do so "lazily" and guided by fear or anxiety in the images and feelings they imagine and "see".

It's true that we imagine differently and some "SEE" more clearly in images and color and sound than others, but we all have been blessed with a Mind's Eye because we are human.  This is a KEY to prosperity in your life.
Africa, your time has come
To increase your prosperity
And unlock your wealth

Through cooperation
And innovation
Your time has come
To remove obstacles
And create life abundantly

Your energy keeps building...
So many hopes and dreams
In pattern and matrix form
Ready to be clothed with
Physical matter

The ideas and technologies
Now safeguard personal identity
And bestow economic identity
To people and nations
That prosperity may abound
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This poem was inspired by Charles Hoskinson, the genius mathematician who is also the founder of Cardano.  Charles and I both were inspired by Kiva, the micro-loan lending group that helps so many people worldwide.

Cardano is a cryptocurrency, but it's much more than that.  Charles has in mind to use it to establish economic identity for millions in Africa who do not have this blessing.  They need a safe and secure way to transmit money, own land with deeds, borrow money, and much more.

The projects are in the incipient stages but developing rapidly - especially in Ethiopia.  So I wrote this poem as a tribute to the people of Africa - and to Charles for helping establish systems to unlock the prosperity of the African nations!
Joy in your life
Does not follow wealth
Or fame
Or even ambition

Joy in your life
Follows purpose and meaning
Friends and family
Incremental progress

When you feel disconnected
From Joy in your life
Reach out to another
And connect again

Connect with laughter
Connect with play
Connect with gratitude
Connect with focus
Connect with service
Connect with forgiveness

These will light the fire
For joy in your life
And joy will remain
Your constant companion
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my Mom has a website, and I help her keep it up and create and link new content.  I was working on her "Joy" page and pondering about what creates joy in our life.

Check it out and see if you agree.  This poem is actually prose, since it's one of the very few that doesn't rhyme at all.  

For me, the things that bring joy into my life are so simple, and you can choose to act today to bring more joy into your life.  Amazingly, these choices and actions will also bring joy to others.  So share this poem freely and let's impact the world for good!
One year from now, where will you be?
Will you choose? Or just wait and see?

Choose to act - create some changes
From small steps, life rearranges

One year from now, will life be great?
Will you take actions that elevate?

Read new books and learn handy skills?
Or just cruise along to pay the bills?

One year from now, you’ll be the same
Unless you act to increase your game

Think new ideas - meet some new friends
Better thoughts lead to better ends
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I often share with people the general idea, "One year from now, you'll be much the same as you are today, except for the books you read and the people you meet."  

Sometimes I use "Five Years", but the idea is the same.  And it's true!  You can choose to make changes.  Get those new ideas!  Read those best books and listen to life changing audios. Meet new people.
Ken Pepiton Feb 18
Got the Covid shot.
Got the word that I have no cancer.
Got the will to form a
into this day far in our future, from then,
a moment ago, it was now, and
some how you  
knew ex- out
action to {perience hap}
change the time
to your now, my future and my now, your past.

just that fast/

--- lickity split, {as if it never needed meaning}

Any whole time invested in an old oath
to tell the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but… when you pause

what comes next is ever, and
the state of never is
unattainable from here.
I know a guy,
he deals in evil, the idea, scare-tactics, terror, horror
all that
Lovecraft literal realm, words may lead a mind to let
a bit, a while, not a whole time, but
a bit

a par-sec or a plancksec, or so, you know,
a little bit of time,

taken as granted for now.
Are you tested,
proven, reused and re
tested? Experience is something more than
a novice mortal can claim. Honest, sharpenedest point,
the life unexamined is worth more than
the life unlived.

Okeh. You live in these lines, this is the literal book
life is…
along these lines, it
just is. Really, the nextifity can never **** the was,
and the was can never reach past
-- the junction, re
conciliation all pairs re
sounding harmonious ohhhhhs and ahhh,
yes, we do know knowing itself is good.
How did we imagine
knowing good and evil, the difference, was separation
from the way through life
in truth,
with no added sorrow?

See, truth is,
…Death has no sting.
But, you gotta do it twice,
it's a kludge, what can I say.
Truth functions fully now,
lying can never hold you,
person-you, dear reader you, lying
can never subject you to ******* for fearing death.

You may cease being after your final idle word is working right,
but no mortal really knows.

Hell is a mortal imagination, as is purgatory and limbo, et al.
As a mortal of our sort thinks in its core, CPU,
so it is… Mac or PC. {Joke, kidding… it is a division,
elite sorting division, elite
in the collected subconscious ifery per
white lit apple where there was
a rainbow,
I remember.
inanely great

aha- I know - I was tricked
- who told me I was naked?
signaling the same bite,
knowing good and evil and the connection
at the chthonic level of life,
where roots and fungi merge and share
no more
no less}

the more you know the less you don't, but don't
deceived, your reading genius is a gift, the eye that sees, the ear
hears, all the senses sensed as a nation might
us-ness in all the inhabitants of the atmosphere -- whosoever…

-- you paid no price, yet truth you don't think you know
draws you to
sneer at a thought that we ought fear death,

after all the virtual nexts…
deep mythic revelation festers
The totally Disneyfied home of the future… from an Amazon
or-if-art-if-ice,  Marvel Universe where unbelief
is released… almost like books

The Age of Ultron
is set to rumble with
Enuma Elish?

Who'da thunk it? The oldest of stories,
swirling to gether,
all but one,
the good one, truth the trait tendency in any
given word
made up in minds since
Enuma Elish,
the surviving story, for a seeded cultural embodiment,
a mind made of us,
we, the artists and the art observant, seeing as we wish,
thinking as we may, if there is a way.

You? you think life is funny,
but not fun.
No fun for no reason play?
they say, they said in the final days of the iron empire,
while the ants steadily absorbed the scent
of trusted friend, and the marching ants selected on edge-
wise vectors,

to copy'n'paste, past to now, nope… no match, but

spread all you ever knew, one thing thick, like lipids
reflecting ever before
or something… sorry, think gaspumps on the lake, at sunset.

That beautiful film on the water, ain't good.
But the beauty is. Ants feel sensibly, the whole mass
of ants,
the message ants send that says we do not **** each other,
humans are learning that now.

One at a time. Bit by bit.

Called to be the sluggard, as an actual ant,
in a colony the size of California,

we imagine you think
with stars as reference points,
being photon tied to you, and all whoever, who
considered the ant,
after a great course on esteemation of ever lasting worth.
with comforters sent to comfort not terrorize…

consider the message: Consider the ant, thou sluggard,
consider her ways and be wise.

Right. Fabre said, or is recorded in the 1916
current opinion magi-
"... I should like to see a few small facts."

Years along this trail and we were unaware
of warez we might imagine in a marvel usiverse, an usity
of me and thee,
word and pen,
surface and ink,
what do you think? how many messages fit on the head
of a tack?

A pin? Ist that the proper imagination? Do children
among the elite
ever see a pin,.. perhaps some ultra-elite see tailors,
we all see them on TV, dressing James Bond,
or a bride in white, chalking stitch marks

for the future… in that reality,
the next scene,
all the sewing done, all the pins put away, save one.

Stick to the plan. Tack this one on your clue wall.
Every 2021 seeker has faith in the pattern

As if the words rise from the page and you know
none mean anything you may never know.

These are beyond Ultron,

these wild old man insights on olden ………..

Back in the ant den, we imagine interpersonal feeler-
a touch and all we know is known to all,
it feels good to know
all I know is now known to all I know, in ant level knowing.

We can do this.
We have done it all our lives,
step into the scene, as an extra.

An extra ant of the 40% who have no care,
need no practice in any ant-craft,
and - seem to serve as assurance
needful for the peace of mind we use as invasive species,

the super-colony survives on peace within,
this is new, this is us, as ants
having certain tasks to keep the climate in the soil,
perfectin the motives of beauty.l

salt from distant seas
subtile tastes to tie the tongues to good to know,

yes it has long been so, the mouth tastes what comes out.

And flesh is a feeling spirits must live to know,
one may never
pretend to have been, without dying once,

try the spirits. See did they ever love a lie?

An imp once asked me, when I was 72,
a little younger than I am in your now,
if I escaped Christianity,
how did I rest so peacefully staring death down.
The imp asked, not me, so that is technically not a quest
ion sufficient to warrant a full days wage of sin,

total lost the thread, mazed in the face, hands up, drop

call it art.
who says crazy is evil if it lives in the bubble
where ants are making peace, and
poets are given truly magic-tech
to stitch stories
to times.

Attenborough called the world to consider
The Ant… as had Solomon, it's been said.
And I heard, but I understood not:
then said I, O my Lord,
what [shall be]
the end of these [things]?
And he said, Go thy way, Daniel:
for the words [are] closed up
and sealed till the time of the end.


Escape? Nay, knave, nigh-ifer misser
of myriad points
of light,

I escaped the name of god for good.
let good be true and every man a liar,
as mortal instant man

a we, at least, very least, I'm sure,
of me and thee, you and I,
lefts and rights and tops and bottoms
fronts and backs

we be in time…
who rah, the hero, uh oh hubris mystery,
curios sort
who wishes to know
the way of the blade parting soul from spirit,
in a
bit of reality we all believe, some how,
does exist,
soul and spirit realms, we all imagine these, we do.

Sniff, if my myth had babies with yours, watchathank?
Long and enjoyable.
Our Mother
With our care - we now cover

Rebuilding your soil
With intention and toil

We are sorry
To make you cry
And drain your rivers dry

Our Mother
We now strive
To help you to revive
That all can prosper
And survive

Thank you
For teaching us
That every drop of water
Every blade and leaf
Every creature
Makes a difference
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I've been studying Geology lately so I've been learning a lot about Mother Earth and her intricate workings.
Far away, some years ago
A man sowed corn in his field
Confident, and hopeful too
Of the hearty crop he’d yield

Then birds flew in at sunset
And gobbled up many seeds
The farmer acted quickly
To provide his family’s needs

A woven net - to trap the birds
His precious seeds to preserve
He caught five geese and a stork
To get what they deserve

The stork said, “I am innocent
I’ve eaten none of your corn
Free me - I’ve done goodly deeds
Since the day that I was born”

The farmer said, “that may be so
But in this group you were caught
You receive the punishment
Of the company you’ve sought”

The same holds true for all of us
The rewards you choose to reap
Will likely be those given out
To the company you keep
This is Prosperity Poem 107 at and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below).
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This poem was inspired by a parable on my Mom's website.  I found out while writing the poem that the story is actually an Aesop's Fable.
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