#ten
gigabyte poetry
a full mouthful
chewing light years
swallowing decades
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 5:16 AM UTC
You hate my printed tees and high top shoes,
you disapprove that I still wear my toque in June.
Always saying that I ruin the plot too soon.
You don’t know your worth, you are my Earth
my sun and my moon.
It’s how you get my smile to touch my cheek,
and the way you get my knees feeling weak.
The ten things that you hate about me,
are outnumbered by the things you’re loving.
You hate my shark shorts even though they’re cozy,
you can look past it because you’re the only one who truly knows me.
I’m tripping on words, the ones you prefer
because you know I’m clumsy.
You say I’m too loud, or my head in a cloud,
but the way that I feel I’m always showing.
It’s the way that you look me right in my eyes,
and how you still manage to give me butterflies.
The ten things that you hate about me,
are outshined by the things you’re seeing.
You hate when my hair gets too long,
and when my cologne smells too strong.
You hate when I exaggerate during fights
and when I snore during late nights.
Just the way that our fingers interlace,
and how you get that look on your face.
The ten things that you hate about me,
are just quirks, you’re making it work,
as you still get to know me.
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 3:29 PM UTC
Ten heartbeats
That's all that I can take
So I tell myself "Ten more"
And when those are done, "Ten more",
And I pray that someday
I won't need to say it anymore.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 1:00 AM UTC
i woke up this morning and ate nine strips of bacon
i could have eaten ten, but i didn't, why?
i don’t know why, but i'm gonna find out
why did i eat nine and not ten?
ten seems like a nice round number
it's the first non-one-digit number
it's the first to break out of that jail
he made it first, then followed all the others
if it wasn't for ten, where would we be today?
we'd be stuck in a single digit world
each month would only have 8 or 9 days
well, except for february, ya know
february will have seb'm
we would not have Christmas and Halloween
you can say good bye to valentines or labor day
forget about Memorial day and april fools
but wait, we will have new years, won't we?
we would only have nine fingers and nine toes
how would that work, how will they be divided?
five on one hand and four on the other?
which one gets five and which one gets four?
hmmmm.... i don't quite know
anyway back to the question at hand
why did i eat nine strips of bacon and not ten
well to be honest with you, this is why
i was full after eating nine
Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 9:27 AM UTC
smitten
by your face that looks like a kitten
written
poems that make me feel beaten
rotten
thinking about you often
bitten
on the heart, so listen
sweeten
my life like it's slitten
a poem of ten
dedicated for you like a mitten
on cold days
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 5:04 AM UTC
I close eyes and count to ten
Take shaky breath of air
Hesitate to open them
Afraid to see you are no longer there
I want to make you happy
Sometimes that seems so tough
Despite golden intentions
Efforts are never enough
Then we build expectations
Late into night
At first both exceed them
Until sparks ignite fight
Yet fire lights lantern
To guide way through the dark
Ecstasy acts as glowing beacon
On weightless journey I embark
Your laughter rings like chords in ear
You got me above clouds so high
Trust earned like a certification
Learning to let hang loose fears you untie
Teaching to speak with a tender tongue
Feeling finer than I have in years
I hope that beneath the surface
Devotion is as deep as it appears
Appreciating your words and savoring
Time we have before it disappears
Aug 26, 2024
Aug 26, 2024 at 5:00 AM UTC
All falls are named "potential".
tongue against proof's,
love inconsequential.
Aug 7, 2023
Aug 7, 2023 at 10:26 AM UTC
Incorrigible hoarder of the useless and perishables
Fridge full of forgotten decay and unfinishing leftovers
A comforting illusion of plenty and unending riches
To which she nibble away, always leaving behind ten percent
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 12:42 AM UTC
Basic Attention Token
we all gotta cache, like a cistern.
Tis tension implanted deep in lower chakras
more, more, teasing, tugging, twisting
crying ever, more, more,
…
it is a flaw,
go, and stay connected, I understand
-- wait
-- the txt is for the single participant act
no mention is made, save the very act, guest
I guess, we guessed,
the man got away,
but, nobody asks,
like I assume they assume they know
- taken, in the very act -
full, full, fill the law to the jot
whittle me a key,
pick this lock, unravel the complexity.
- casting lots for the garment
- knitted from one thread,
New Testament Greek between the himatia
(literally “over-garments”)
and the seamless robe,
which is chiton,
(literally "tunic" or "coat").
https://kenpepiton.com/?p=1273
Jul 31, 2021
Jul 31, 2021 at 10:26 PM UTC
what is it to be 40
twice the man, you were at twenty?
four times the man, you were at ten?
is it being wiser
and having your means meet the end?
finances sured up?
with no need, for to be the miser
a divorce or some
perhaps a strong marriage
polyamorous loves
to your heart's desire
addictions? vices? troubles stifling?
death breathing down your neck
to the thumping of your heartbeat
beads of sweat, gather
and run off your chest
like your shoes on the concrete
you are dying
even while you're living
and you know one day
it'll be your last
cause we only get so long
and time goes fast
a baby is born
the next afternoon
an old man is buried
tomorrow could never come
would you ever know it?
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 11:06 AM UTC
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.
Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.
Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.
Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.
Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;
A bumble bee stung one and then there were five.
Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and then there were four.
Four little soldier boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.
Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.
One little soldier boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there was none.
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC
the date reads november 18.
there's 6 days before our anniversary
-i think i've finally gotten it right now.
the air's crisp with that autumnal scent of dried leaves. the coffee’s what keeps me from losing the last of my grip on this cold morning, indifferent to the iciness of our early days i currently heed through.
my forgetfulness had its way of having us spiral down to endless fights-our anniversary was one thing for instance. petty back and forth bickerings resolved with my “i love you's” met with eyerolls failing to cover up the smile that slides it way on your face. heated stares and suffocating silences. “i'm sorry, i'll make it up to you's” soon lost its charm. conflicts hung with one of us walking out. compromises wavered, melted into emotionless pleas to end it all-us saying **** it" to the rings glinting on our digitus quartus.
the day we've chosen to surrender it all true to life inevitably came, that september 7 five years ago. if i force myself to stop thinking about the specifics, i can brush it off as our homage paid to the same day i was first made known of your existence as you passed by me in the campus grounds, the day we scratched our angst upon a match box-little did we know it would become the same fuel that extinguishes all the embers we've lit aflame. that year winter followed but it simply couldn’t come up with blizzards raging with more cruelty.
autumns ago we gave up on being each other's stressors and stress reliever. we’ve turned out to be the boulder rolling on all the spaces we shared, flattening the dreams, the dayfalls, the vows we’ve exchanged and wherever it was that we’ve only quite reached the middle of;
our midpoint turned out to be our ending.
for so long this wondering nested in the crevices of my hollow. have we done or not done some small thing, done or undone it some other way, would the course of things have ran differently for us?
maybe they’ve been right all along,
and their fingers pointed to our temples were justly served.
maybe they were right and we were just two kids unsuspecting of just how much an involvement of forever would cost us.
such hasty entanglement, infinitely falling unto acts of impulses yet again.
maybe we should’ve saved all that trouble of gown and tux thrifting and cake tasting and tying the knot until the years proved ripe with stability.
you should've said “we should talk about this first.” instead when i got down on one knee five months after we’ve gotten our degrees.
you could have offered a spillage of precarious uncertainty instead of easily giving out that hearty yes, flinging us both on top of the world only to be mercilessly pulled six feet under, forced to breath still.
you would’ve stomped over the shards cut out of the shape of my heart but at least i’d eventually come with an acceptance. we wouldn’t have turned into ten years worth of grief.
i know you’ve always been born for higher things, always been on the lookout for greater pursuits. that’s what made me drawn to you in the first place after all. you were someone who knew where she was headed to despite the fuckedupness of all that surrounded you while i was some beaten down misguided boy who needed that pulling uprooting force of a direction.
maybe you should’ve gone off to medschool and i with working my way for a promotion before we dealt with rent and bills and threading on the line of what it truly meant to be parents.
i’ll always thank the heavens for having the thorns leave that part unharmed, our daughter cradled by peace, swaddled in the softest of petals, later on forging the steps where wildflowers bloom; it was only right we named her after one. celandine.
she’s got your doe eyes, the exact tinge of blue. i can see how much she looks up to you. she told me how she wants to be a doctor when she grows up the last time i picked her up from the place you both live in now. during the drive, she was humming to the chorus of that old nirvana song, you know, that one we repeatedly listened to. i couldn’t help but have my heart swell, nearly tearing up. it felt like a memory the three of us shared like her first nights at that house. her loud cries quieted down as you hummed that alt song into a lullaby. she’s very inquisitive for her age though she’s still yet to ask questions about us or why her parents don’t live or spend time together or why she only gets to see her dad during the weekends. but i think for a five year old she somehow understands.
i can imagine you scoffing, a cigarette dangling from your lips just like the old days where you’d light one whenever you couldn’t help but be annoyed. your belief that regret is stupid and what if’s take you to a drive to nowhere still stands strong. but baby for a long time the what if’s have kept me going, as with all my unhealthy coping mechanisms-when we peeled off the last of the wallpaper, pulled out our clothes from our shared closet, even still when i gunned my old corolla to ignition.
we lost it all.
to our fights. to their i told you so’s. to the vows we’ve memorized since our dates around the college park. to the milestones framed. to autumn and winter and spring and summer.
it's years later and we've managed to unstuck ourselves from the rubble this marriage has become like how adults are expected to deal with everything else this sorry excuse of a life hurls at. but hey, maybe you were right. maybe us separating was necessary to **** off the beasts that tore past the skins of our monsters in unison.
i know you don’t really regret any of it. i know what we’ve birthed from the sadness that trailed down our tailbones patterned from dysfunctional upbringings held out to be intentions pure, offered for a ravaging love. i saw it, felt it the years that led us to the altar and the years witnessed by those housewalls, those fall afternoons the three of us napped in the same room as a family.
there’s 6 days before our anniversary and i’ve finally got it right.
10 years too late.
forgive me for longing, but i think it’s only right that i make do with what was saved from the skeletal framework of bruised years;
the gold ring i’ve strung on a necklace.
the state magnets from our old refrigerator.
the photo album filled with pictures from that white sand beach on our honeymoon.
the pinstriped tie you made me wear on my first day at my third job.
even the way you used to hog the covers and how you’d tend to burn the breakfast eggs.
there’s six days before our anniversary and now, i’ve finally gotten it right.
10 years too late.
“our relics are still yet to meet their grave. but their epitaph would read happy anniversary”.
Aug 15, 2020
Aug 15, 2020 at 7:57 AM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
that which used to take ten minutes
now takes an hour or
two
something's that used to take an hour or
two,
now take ten minutes, give or
take,
(mostly I do the taking)
(or as the little voice whispers, the mostly
faking)
betcha you'd like to which is what
and what is which being bewitched,
I ain't spilling no beans
cause I value my insanity's privacy,
and I don't got to give that up just yet
but if you want the worst of what little I got left,
unhappily I will approach the old muse
begging me giving me something to use,
bad she turns away bad she say
*"You all tricked out,
you wares worn,
ye old styles from yester last month
you been styled by
H&M;
30 days max,
then
ring in the new, and if all sold,
or none-at-all,
too bad for you*
then you gotta decide:
wear a watch
or watch the wearing
with small
pleasures sighed,
confirming, night-moves,
gonna
Keep On Keeping On
Living
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 2:31 AM UTC
When she goes out, it's like it's her last night alive.
When he goes out, he clears his mind by taking a midnight drive through the countryside.
After a long night alone in an empty bar, she decided to take a chance and get in her car.
He went out too but didn't make it very far. Only 10 miles.
10 miles from home, 2 lives were lost.
10 miles from home, she didn't think about the cost.
10 miles from home, 2 families will never be the same.
10 miles from home stands a memorial with a picture and their names
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 11:30 PM UTC
I
I celebrate my pants, and sing my pants,
And what I wear you shall wear,
For every thread belonging to me as good belongs to you.
II
I saw the best pants of my generation destroyed by madness, bleaching faded skinny,
dragging themselves through the crowded malls at noon looking for the perfect selfie,
man-bunned hipsters burning for the contemporary digital connection to the social dynamo in the machinery of online relevance
III
Let us go Pants, you and I,
With evening wash spread out against the sky
Like a ghost dancing upon the breeze;
Let us go, through certain half-full baskets,
The smelly caskets
Of unwashed trousers from one-week neglected hampers.
IV
Something there is that doesn't love my pants,
That sends the frayed-torn-cuffs under it,
And spills my muffin top in the sun;
And makes love handles even two can hold to love.
V
I have stolen
the pants
that were in
the dressing room
and which
you were probably
wearing
for a party
Forgive me
they were comfy
so soft
and so stylish
VI
Because I could not fit my Pants –
I kindly split the Seam –
The Problem is quite obvious –
I need some stronger Jeans.
VII
The patterns on your pants
Could make a designer cry;
But I hung on to your stance:
Plaid boldly with tie-dye.
VIII
Call the maker of big pants,
The fabulous one, and bid him zip
In seamstress studs sumptuous sewing.
IX
What happens to lost pants?
Do they stiffen up
like paper as it dries?
Or do they balloon up —
and into the sky rise?
X
I bought some tremendous pants
and held them beside the cart
half off the hanger, with the hook
fast in the belt loop around the waist.
There was no fight.
No one had fought at all.
They hung a defeated weight,
overlooked and spurned.
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 4:51 PM UTC
A decade starts, leaving the previous one behind,
The whole world celebrates.
And the history’s put to rewind.
For the next ten years.
With so much lived in the past
And so much to live in the coming ones
I hope I don’t find myself aghast
Of the next ten years.
It’s definitely a long journey
And I’m ready to take off
To take up a different sojourn
In the next ten years.
Lives will be changed
And a turn will be taken
Leading to something strange
Up the next ten years.
Many new goals will be set
And people will thrive
And will do anything to get.
In those ten years.
All I am stuck thinking
Is how much I will change
Leaving my old self behind lurking
Through the next ten years.
Jan 12, 2020
Jan 12, 2020 at 12:35 AM UTC
The problem with being happy
Is a lot like the problem with pluto
It was a vague way of
Describing a complex thing
Our sense of happiness is so fragile
It can be destroyed by simply asking whether or not it exists
Instead I'm busy
I'm interested
I'm fascinated
I want to build things
And then break them
I want to be busy and beautiful
And brimming with
Ten thousand moving parts
I want to hurt
So that I can heal
And that's okay
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 3:25 PM UTC
Ten thousand hours to master a skill,
Here's ten thousand words on how i feel
Take them at face value,
My mind is trying to make my heart real.
America told me to hold onto that belief,
In a country free to have a dream.
I've got ten thousand words now,
This is all I ever wanted to be.
Pointing at myself in the mirror saying
Don't you lose that steam.
I'm creating my own space,
I've waited so long to have a taste
And i would fight to the ****** end
Anyone looking to take it away.
So while you walk through the stores
I keep tapping these keys away
Hoping one day the shelves will say my name.
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 7:07 PM UTC
_Why,_
You ask,
_Use ten words
When two will do?_
‘Cos a pair is always eight words too few.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 9:19 PM UTC