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Ken Pepiton Oct 31
Enlisting minds tuned to noise,
one good spell,
post participation in the everlasting war;
a peaceful valley, where waiting is only waiting.

Settled, true rest, compressed and shaken down
watching warnings evolve,
in human super bloom.

Eight billion minds
of the main kind,
collective conscience,
under ever afterward solemn
compulsion
to tell the truth. Whole,
no reason to bring to confession,
I must test, to prove to you,
if I
I did hear the knock, as it were, a bell, ting,
ding, I opened the door and made no invitation,
as when a farmer lets out water, whoosh
this leaky old cistern was full to overflow,
and
the rat that hid in the old dry well, drown'd.

Resulting in silence,
due to the truth in any story being authorized,
authority approved.
triple A.

Sowing as the legendary Johnny Appleseed,
with cautionary
pioneer role,
we can take the land, that was the story told…
none of this is learned in secret.
- done did done, done did done, done
do you
know the way to San Jose?
Did you know, in 1968?
----------------

The pilgrimage to all the drops, each 50 league step,

madding memory of yapping pups herding first bought sheep
over the cliff,
into the sea,
thinking that will be the end
of me, as a shepherd…

No, I never cried wolf.
I never took up the hunt for wolves,
I knew it was my own fault
as a shepherd innocent, novice with only books,
who bought a friendly dog, with too much to learn,
and no safe place to train,
brain to worth,
what is good
to know, what is good to go, chase into the sea,
like the spirits from the Gadarene,

and what evil comes when knowing
of good grows too slow
to catch a gnat with no effort.

Watchman! What of the night?
Who is asking, comes a reply,
why do you know nothing
at this hour,
it is dark and quiet, but for living noises,
courting crickets and owlish judgements

bat beeps and squeals, but those, we feel I think, more than hear.
Excerpt from The Od Evangelist, an unpublished novelish poem.
Anais Vionet Apr 28
The Batman Movie (a review). The clues part was cool, but the end of it got boring. I liked that Batman kept a journal - I like the idea of men keeping journals, because, do men have many thoughts they share? Men’s thinking seems so ephemeral.

In this Batman resurrection, Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne & Batman are Kurt-Cobain-like emo and that seemed to work. Didn’t you just want to take your hand and get his hair out of his eyes? I think guys should have hair - I like hair on guys, not buzz cuts. I liked the muscle-car Batmobile.

I liked Zoey Kravitz, she was girl power, but not in a hot girl way, she had her own motivations, she wasn’t just in danger and served up to fuel Batman.

The movie is too long though. They need to bring back movie intermissions - I’d vote for that. As usual, I drank my giant slurpee and ate ½ my popcorn before the twenty minutes of previews were finished.

It’s a three hour movie. I had to *** so bad by the time the movie was ¾ over that I was grinding on my popcorn bucket to keep it in. I finally had to make a dash for the bathroom - I was afraid I’d miss the KISS scene. Argh!

Let’s talk about Robert Pattinson, the actor, and his arch from Twilight to Batman. Of course, doesn’t every vampire turn into a bat? (joke) but it’s always Pattinson being moody, being hot, figuring himself out and the introspective man - the broody man.

Are broody men ****? I don’t like broody men in real life - I feel that only one of us gets to be moody in a relationship - and it’s going to be me. Pattinson seems almost zany and cheeky in RL so the brood is his method act. I Like that Pattinson didn’t buff-up for the role - I think the buffed-up muscle-man as superhero perfection somehow relates to capitalism. Pattinson’s American accent was good.

What was missing from the movie was horniness. Batman didn’t seem HOT for Cat-girl - he just stood there for her to kiss. What’s boy-girl attraction if it’s not horniness? Where has the horniness gone in movies? Sexiness is missing from ALL the superhero movies - I guess the age demo is too young.

I give it three out of five stars
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Resurrection: means "revival, resurgence rebirth”
Ken Pepiton Dec 2021
Ai-elman, from the two rivers
these old novels
said to hold the whole trope
truth and hope crushed to trust

ever molten, cold mercurial wall
medium
meditating time and space

Stories. To die for, others
we live for.

Which are yours, the *** I rode in on asks, with
a twitch of an ear, here, here

listen old man, if we willed we
came this far
today, how far did we get to morrow,

for oh,
so many of those are behind us now,
now we know what old is all about.
Well done to all who had a hand, and a nod to Branden Sanderson.
Leocardo Reis Jun 2021
It is a wonderful book.
It has not changed my life,
but confirmed it.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
annh Sep 2020
For as the curtain rises,
So too the curtain falls,
No accolades, no entourage,
No 'Brava!', no applause.

An unrehearsed performance,
By a monodramatist,
A solo show, a pantomime,
An improvised burlesque.

Critics stand in groups debating,
The value of my work,
They gossip in the aisles,
The playhouse now a kirk.

My eulogy their invention,
My obituary the prize,
The best review I've ever had,
A mix of humour and soft lies.

I have played the loving daughter,
The honest aunt *****,
The independent sister,
The true and loyal friend.

The sympathetic neighbour,
I have played the errant niece,
The mentor, guide, and confidant,
The ***** and the tease.

In truth, I am a diva,
Living mostly in her head,
But this remains unmentioned,
In a tribute to the dead.

Once rose bouquets beribboned,
From the greatest and the good,
Now a solitary arrangement,
On a coffin made of wood.

For as the curtain rises,
So too the curtain falls,
No accolades, no entourage,
No garlands, no applause.

But wait, I see my error,
As indeed these things exist,
But not for me to comment on,
Nor as I would have wished.

For my aspect is fair frozen,
I cannot turn the page,
My performance has now ended,
And I have left the stage.

‘Now that he was quite alone, condemned, deserted, as those who are about to die are alone, there was a luxury in it, an isolation full of sublimity; a freedom which the attached can never know.’
- Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway
Diego Morales Mar 2020
It is odd to think we are free,
And to idealize liberty, and to praise expression.
But how at large can we truly be,
If within, we can only draw upon unruly self-repression?

If in public, we dare not speak our minds?
If our love, we dare not confess?
If to wrongs, we turn blind?
If from singing our hearts, we digress?

We claim to be free,
The thought alone, within us, sets a torch alight,
But the truth for truth we must see,
When given a pen, hardly one of us would write.
John McCafferty Mar 2020
A useful key to creativity
Write a list of things you need to
do today before you get distracted
by the brain to procrastinate
Prioritise three aims that helps you
produce to consume
The days flick through fast without
a view ahead of what to do
Life is shorter than expected so
hold a set of goals in pursuit
Looking back on what was done
later on fulfils a cycle to review
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Casey Dec 2019
I am a "zoomer",
which means that I grew up in this past decade.

Going into 2010, I was on the edge of being seven years old.
Thinking that this is when my life will really begin.
That ever-looming question.

I look back on this decade and think,
when did my life begin?
At what point, in the past 10 years,
did I open my eyes and see the world how it is?

Was it when I was 11 on an airplane for the first time,
seeing just how small we really are?
Or perhaps when I stood on the summit of the tallest peak
of the Rocky Mountains at 13?

Maybe it was when I came out for the first time in 2016.
In eighth grade, to my closest friend.
It could've been when someone called me a *** for the first time when I was 14, and I didn't know what it meant.

Or was it when I was 15, and realized that I was trans and panromantic?
Then again, it also might've been when I was newly 16 and tried to escape.

I know it's cliché, but if I had traveled back in time to this exact day in 2010,
I don't think my younger self would recognize me,
let alone believe what I tell them about this decade.

When I was 7, I thought 2020 was going to be high tech and futuristic.
I never thought that I'd be able to travel to so many new places.
I never thought I'd be pan, or a boy.
I never thought that people could be so hateful towards my existence.
I never thought that my mom would get sick.
I never thought that I'd add myself to statistics.

And then I realize that it's 2020 very soon,
and now I'm on the edge of being 17.
I'm still asking that question.
When will my life begin?

Except, this time, I know the answer.
Bye-bye 2010's. Thanks for all the memories, but it's time to move on now.
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