Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ryn Aug 26
Looking for
the words
and meaning…

To fill the void,

that feels like
lost breath.
Ken Pepiton May 29
my library is yours, said the universe to me.
A million volumes, thousands of lines,
with etchings and evidence to the art of seeing right,
left brain driven patterned eye,
now shows reflected detail
right
mirroring into ever as all finer and finer yes
s sound es start esse et al so slow, moo-ee dis passsy oh
say so- amen- if you will

magic, yes, of coursemhmm. Or luck. No lies linger long now.

Luck we allow, magic is evil, and therefore, and only there
for a we I am not in but speak for,
on tv, like in the ads,
I look like an authority, no detail in the image serves no intent.

But the tie. THE TOOLONGREDTIE - choked, the joker,
who happened to be the knot-tying teacher from camp
common-sense-embedded vicariously,
the summer camp experience, ASSEENONTV - manifests
unspeakably real in the minds of those exposed,
-------
flash to the snow, echo shush shushug no woe chile doncha know
Pharoah's army done drownded.
----------
Other's wise and other's woe, as a we in the big am being, the awe,
a we, some we awesome think,
flows on and on with my influency past understanding letting go.

The peace of alienation rests with you,
as they say in passing, and I reflect it back in time to come,
as each passing fancy wonders next into an ifity
such as I may live in and not be burned.
-------------------

Today, to stop writing, to read, and write, a gain
is made;
if ladders are a thing in your experience, a gain
is made.
In ladder like terms of messages
send and receive
up and down
delivered with no fanfare, whosoever hears
line upon line, reproving instructions as old as protein.

Patterns un prized un expected as un common thoughts
images imagined in the round, carved from stone,
with tools of stone, who imagined doing that
first?
first? How was the task perfected?
Hands raise, as waves of grain grown from wind blown spore,
polisporiatic symbiosis,
see many seeds make a planet,
- answer, we swore we were answers,
- may is our word, we be the salt in the soup

and those who know must act as if knowing is a gift,
not a stolen thing that only gods may hold as true.

Say, I say, say the name that never has been said,
and never shall be I dare shout, unless the deaf say who said,
taking a name is ever vain, if the evidence
whispers, see
hallowed - the idea in hallowed - unspeakable state of knowing
all things all the time as those things occur
quite
randomly at the level of detail involved in ordering matter

with words, yes, words. Why?
I was thinking we may have this knowing knack but never knew.

I know of a microbe, a living thing, it lives to let the light
in a certain kind of phosphorescent squid,
shine.
Minus the microbe, the squid never matures, never passes
the know how entailed in being mature light bearing being
at depths simple breathers never
glimpse,

until these last two or three generations of augmented us.

Sapien Sapien Augmentedus, contrarandom access via silicon
symbiosis gnosis subliminal subtle
whistle speak, betting dolphins do bet donuts to sand dollars,
and they laugh at our narrow band width.

War in reason is not a series of big bangs. Peace prevails,
pre means
yeah, you know, you no victim of ignoring pre-cepts.
except
receipts for time spent musing using - heroic persona
To no avail,
the bitter wail, almost but…

caughtcha, you was lost, outayadamind. S' okeh.

Life ain't like on TV. Reading can be creative.
Imagine
gnosis level secret sacred knowing, free to eat.

And shame is taken from the game.
Sh-it and fu-ck are squealing sylabicfoul,
but the referee calls
fair
stinkin' thinkin', you step in what you say,
see how it feels, mo'fo, you know, there is no word
for this level
sin being as it is victim of the reconciliation,
hmm- no,
life is in the realm of reason, and hell is out.
Re hook, lizard brain to life in sequence,
re disney
dis-connected
koanic alienation non- in- un- tension
stretch a point to tune
a note,
find the mind's equivalence, eight in the outer edge
of the field,

here, imagine, things matter, just now, just this side
of the dark matter inside the Higgs field
where the initial element of the protein called for
us
to spark the squid's little light, and let it shine,
so none can say the little squid did not have it in her.

If I were conscious of the universe,
I might use my sci to frame a limit, build a wall
around my garden.

Regarding the original intention.
A generation was put into development, soon after
the event, most recent common ancestor filtration,

the abortion of all but those of she, known as
matrix of all living,
we assume, that means us, for we live,
and we did not form from nothing, in words were we
ever spoken, once a thing is done

o yes, its done
done did done… another one that could end here, but won't.
I felt compelled, full disclosure, Hamilton's Pharmacopeia inspired me to remember a peyote
Kassan Jahmal Apr 13
I'm up, but don't feel awake,
world has me broke,
but I won't let it break.

At times I don't live my worth,
but I'll never forget my place
Stick to my guns,
and aim my ideas straight.

I'm guided by faith,
hopes of it working out in the end
For this life to be alive,
have to stop pretending to be dead.

A simple quest. Journey of life till the very end.
Manifesting day and night
Angels recognise my anger
Never ending quest
Justice I aspire
Universe conspire union
The wizened old man told me -
sustain the weary with a word
for many a one has none
to bring love and light
into the blight of their dreary days.

I asked which word
and through a wan smile
he said - you figure it out.
Maybe poets are the best ones
to discover and uncover the light
hidden in the weary and the dreary
Ken Pepiton Jan 27
re
It's all too trippy. ever and every. real really very verily.

Whatifery , that is, was that nearly killed the self-willed,
heretics, that did it and what was blamed,
what
was there
to just ify any reason to doubt that all things work, f'good;
friction and forces and all the ideas
we imagine in all, the set. Thattharity should have started with
one of those inverted quest ahead signs
the point with a hook
baitless, a warning for the un-a-wared,
betas are allowed
--stip stip ulate free will restraints
only if compliant with 7th gen Feynman second chance
Nandmazearrays.
Do overs are included, until sleep arrives.

The story is a single thread. Shredded.
Cut into tiny bits, time tic quanta,
so now it works, the thread
of thought, works
like magnetic legos.
It's all been better than ever for a while,
it's just beginning to soak in.

That old man said his side won and
****** If I don't believe
he knew befo he bet. re
the zone known as home stretch
I lost myself in your quest,
Fate denied what was mine..

Burning within was a heart that died,
Leaving scars that did not lie..

Leaving me helpless,
In this world full of dead..

You went ahead,
Driven by your desires..

I was left alone once again,
Not to be ruptured but trained..

Finding myself was again a task,
Losing to you wasn't that hard..

Hath not I let go of my emotions,
I would still have had the chances of resurrection..

Nobody could enter this prickled heart,
The reason you were lone inside this ruined turret..

You awakened me, repainted my soul,
Made me strong enough to hold myself..

Then left me alone in the wild sea,
Never to come back..

The first few days were hard,
The struggle real with the wretched pains..

Love is not a bed of roses but of thorns,
You showed it right and held me tight..

For it helped me rise and fight again,
Tame the waves and tide again..

You left me to thrive,
I soared higher to cry..

You set my soul ablaze,
And cut my chains..

You were a traveller who settled,
And I became the restless bird of passage….
The restless bird of passage..
rig Jan 5
x
illegible,
this map - to be
or not to be:
that is the quest.
Aniruddha Dec 2020
Down with fever on a Saturday night,
I just wish for a glance of her soothing light.
No pleasure is perpetual.
Grief stricken, hopeless I’m,
Began a quest -
A cry for immortal bliss.

Journey is long,
Slowly showing its toll.
Ageing rapidly through the time,
Revealing her tenacious paradigm.

Where is the money,
For it can bring only agony.
Peace is temporary,
And they say war is necessary.
Why shall I agree to her words
which are equally scary.

This life, finite in its expression,
Caught up in some pseudo socialism.
Through intangible portals of death and rebirth,
How do I transcend this dualism!

For nothing interests me more,
Come blindfold me with your lore.
I was never free,
And they wish that I could flee.

You don’t get it, or do you.
Might wonder I’m in folly,
Driven by insanity.
Take a step back,
Or will you rather not.

World is filled with dejection,
Still I hope for serenity,
Coz I'm ******* by this ****** lunacy.

As she laughed at this mighty plight,
And I cried through my whole night,
Wishing for a bliss that's eternal.
But settled for a song that's so mortal.
Next page