Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ken Pepiton Jan 2019
if you ever read...

what if books were fun
and fun were good.

We could use words for fun, but

first, do no harm.

It's Okay

Life's such a book, you know. Like a book you know
like some people know 1984

or claim Proostian wit beyond the environs of Dooblin

It's all about finding joy
and enjoying guiding
Finders, who lost all,

out o' the maze, the fly out 'the bot'le,

Amazed atheists facing

Cold hard truth

No, joke, man, pulling your bling.
Out of the maze every body sees
In alienable un alien able right
Clear as day. Everybody.

You
(is there some cool new way to say
Comprehend with solid understanding
'side jes dig?) wentwiditdigit

Can you dig it digital retro key
Pre Pac man dude this is sir real

No ****. What else can you say/
Can you dig it, way down to the
Bottom grunt that was agreed upon
To use for containing one
Idea. Only one. Any more than one,
You are inviting confusion into you mind.
He can't come in without you invitate 'im in,
But when he do he'confuse the life right outayou.
**** strait. And a good thing, too. Times
Like these I find bumping into walls
Comforting, like
Everytime I hit the wall
I find the wall and the word
"few there be"
Finds it's way into me and I grin.
God it is good to be alive this day
In the narrow way
Far from the madding crowd
We may spend for ever with,
Grace being grace.

Yew E-ternal Sec Cur ity?
Why, yes, I am, if you mean
Am I eternally secure,
Oh yes, I am then and now
Let me say
If you sought to prove me wrong
You might wear a crown some day

Still whether instability of soul were
Even possible post mortality
We shall see what we shall see
You must love your enemies,
Whether you made them or not.
They got here some how or
Possibly, some why, but
Now
We must deal with them as we
Would be
Dealt with.

Yessir. Shouted the experts in war'round
About King Solomon's bed
Off wit'therheads.

Dodge that son, it's an old Alician trick.
Victorian, I believe. War
At the height of its glory.
Shame, so much remains when
It all should have washed away.

Who teaches war? Is there a reason any more?
Aren't we who God says we are or are we who
They think we are? Well,
They just might happen to be writing their part
Of this book right
Now and may
Be realizing peace's price's paid.

Jesus, what a handle, eh? Easy to hold on to,
Once you get a grip on good.
After that, what can we tell you?

The truth, what else is there, and more abundantly.
Living words.
I wrote this a year ago, took off some edges and found it holds water, still, after a while.
Nathaniel Aug 2018
Simple, not sustainable  
The mind of a coward is uncontainable
free to bleed on pages for hours
but his work is not adaptable
call attention for fraud
because he's an alienable
monster of a man  
god bless the bland
and
god bless the stranger
Unaware of the danger
that a free pen cost
A mind and a soul for paper
Not a writer a maker
only less convincing
then the man
assuring everyone of his winnings
and when time slays the man
his writing will be where he stands
on the cold ground
with a warm pen in his hand
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
Apotosis
the need to be needed at the level of corpuscular order,

tunnels flushing- usable to useless,
three cycles per sixty pumps synched
wavelike
recently discovered fact,

squeeze

them sphincters, wiggle that tail,

this is that, or
better said this is as that was.

That's over. we timed it.

Apotosis,
is a messenger, you might
see it as a program, a chron-job,

an I'll go rhythm from the ole Pepiton lexicon.

Apotosis of the completely alienated
right, if nothing works as well as all the evil let be-ers think,
then we know everything is getting better than that.

True, hold right in the side of your mind you are on best terms with,

judge the messenger by the message,

this is judging angels. y/n

get a grip, some such rights ain't
alienable,

we are on team earth,
**** sapient sapient augmentalatedus,

new construals of what we may be
and these words
are flowing where dry bones were,
last I noticed.
Listening to Howard Bloom Lucifer Principle and a musing my self imaging memes. Imagine this is as I wisht, okeh, this is... mind wanders on
Ollie Apr 2017
As the metal slices through the hide, the pressure is released.
All alienable material stuck within is released to trickle down the body.
Ending all unsane inhumane materials from the dome that devours the control center.
The two people in the room attacking you is soon realized to be one, you.
Allegations are protested as if the riots in LA were at your door step.
The falling darkness crusades through the land of what used to be,
Happiness
Shouting at the person to think clearly while performing your ritual.
You lost..
As soon as I am released, it's done.
Breathing your air is delightful.
Ruining your status shivers me.
Just enough of me and I can **** you.
You will finally be able to see the pain that has been unseen for so long.
I will give you the attention you oh so badly didn't want.
Being left alone I will make a friend that will stay with you forever.
Figure me out I won't tell.
Blood and scars are all I tell.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
Profound and striking differences twixt these higher
minds and mine

in kind, we re
cognize our own as we learned we know
the curricula upon which standards
apply pressure to mold
the mind into D0-Bees, don't being litter bugs,
ducked and covered for goodness knows
this could be that cobalt bomb,
I read about
in Boy's Life, my grandpa has a copy of, in this game
he plays online,
choosing
subjects, the knowing of which is to be learned,
and
shall be graded, judged fit for this or that,
for sorting
for the roles rooted in the heart
whence teaching
teaching shall be radiated equally,
ala Alternating Modulation Radio, with the inkwell
filling
filling to over flowing  child's joy en
learning to learn for ever, which is
later.
Unless your grand pa taught you ever is already,
just is, watch and see
---
i have water and a vessle that will not burn
with the heat i can bring at will with a twist of a ****
"we be cookin' wit gas"
I can cook rice any time I have rice,
even if I lack salt, I make do.
---
the role of a star on the silver screen, changed
along the yellow brick road,
but we had black and white tv... I never saw the shift.

until long after the experience the original seers saw,
sit with them
just now they learned of hubble's red shift,
some of them
doubted now the translation of life on the silver screen
pop
Technicolor yawn-gulp, in 1930-something somewhere
over
the rainbow, oh, what dreams may come

--
confusion on the horizon, comin from the west
pushin to the east
smell that smell, feel that feeling, is it still...

an answer, accepted, good is good, all the time

equality as a fact
equality as a result, oops, LBJ, did not mean to say

the nation lacks a voice, amigo *****, we vote
in my realm, this is in the book

this book, where the reader is you.
Two dimensions of self-evidence

what you see is
what you get, if you know how to get it.

Medalion, eh, like in Venice, a license to rent my life,
for more than I think it's worth.

Horus feather state. EH? Light, as a feather,
weigh my words with these,
was the time better spent or better sold writing code?

Enchained melody chant me a chance to

... start all over. Aloud, I say thanks to the creative voice,

we won our liberty, at the loss of all the lies we let
be true,
while dreaming we were watching life
in technicolor dreams imagined by imagineers
with access to to tools
right used
to lessen the bherdon of the feeble minds,
entangled in the mythterious
confus-is-us, Am-big-is-us,

common good, call not that common that or which,
which is it,
really is there a discernible point?

We, the people who hold certain truths, personally,
un alienate-able as well as in-alienable,
if you will, dear reader

do we know the citiz
enship values by which we shall be weighed?
what is my value worth?
what are my values?

dis-passionate-analysis leads to com-passionate-response provoking ideas

my ******-sayin' right is white as snow, come reason me a reason that ain't right.

Done done done, kettle drummed doom

clear the room, the VOG calls strike the set

eat my pearl finish, lick my serpentine sheen, wink and whisper
any name you wish you knew me by

for ever, in my realm leaves us room to expand
hopes past the furthest

reaches of faith alone, past understanding, deep in soft foggy peace

reason? you asked me a reason, or is this a chip, on my shoulder?
does that mean a thing,
like a symbol through generations a meme, passed on in the air I breathed,

knock this chip from my shoulder. why? what is the meaning of this
memorable emulated behavior,

quick draw, fire, aim goes unsaid, no time to spend on a mere word.
both eyes aim

a moving raptor closing on a mourning dove lost in a dove frame of mind
wham
back o'm'knack feelin' ***** 'n' gritty

grandma laffs at m'sweaty necklace of dirt and grime, as it
washes away
and leaves a ring on the tub, that i get to scrub
into a state of total eradication,
rub o'm'head

radish reponds, I'am a root fruit, no seeds in me, eh, never thought o'that?

subteranean sentience is essentially imaginable in the mind of any child and
most game programers who play for the joy of the riddle

bottom line.
We are gifted with pens whose ratio to swords is constant, since ever started.
Ken Pepiton Apr 10
Take a day, call it
typical,
fit to a pattern, a type
Dear reader,
this is raw material, you know now,
my left brain, my emmissary
who kens these qwerty key patternings,

as earlier my kind kenned a wedge,

as a side seen point, we ken the twist,
as we see it wind done, watching
calling what are you called?
whspinnliss-t-en-d
I am
called ken, I think I know that means
knowing meaning is amean thing to be
alone, I mean
nothing.

In the wind, I mean every thing.

I can show you, use my vision.
Plain to see how all things wind
around a point in time, when
a possibly fruitful branch.
bends as all the seeds could be,
wannabe, oughtabes,
join the puppy dance, we smile
we feel we know, the metaphor,
a version as real as any
ever
we see, the point protruding from
the xylemphylum flow,
feels just, as just yoostabe commonly
said, just wrong, not evil, only
not wholly right,
yesees, yesers, yesterday, we all may

recall to the point, intended, as this
never ending typical day
beyond the dammed walls and rivers,
mnemonic, goad, to gitchergoat,
rile the little devil
into a rage, and blame the dame,
eee, e-qual e-quit
I-ran-I, ih?
see he run, we made peace, like
pouring cold water to
the wicked witches in the west,
all formed on the pattern projected,
read it, in the letters, Persians and Medes,
Law, these scriptures once in stone,
in stone it lives,
ever after.

So it is written so it is done, Yul Brenner,
macho-man, side-trac static, filter with a flick
my man, virtual reality is vwi-rrrorreee

I for got. Oops, Oriented Pe'pl'ish. Spir't.

These types of interupts during the holiest
times, when stars all form point to patterns
you heard imagined in stories no one told you,
you made it all up, you, right, dear reader,
a amusement, silliness, as it was, at first,
Silli me, I see, I was made for this,
the left ignores the messy room,
and delights in challenging Spelchek in many
guises, all jinn enginearering as we sort
things out, sift the silt to find
flecks,
wee tiny webits, ambits and qubits measuring
up.
Look

was there an imaginary war, and
the good guys got their butts kicked?  
Either there or their, eh,

Lefty, is holding me to the line,
met in the median, we parllevous
us a pallaver, and verily
as a man of the first kind, we're you.
Virtue flows, from and to, alternating
currency, wi-ro i-
Tesla's reply to a memo posted
in this bubble, ah
rhet, rhetoric, rhea-tric, slap clap
to the brow, {that's one, too}
wow, since Teddy Ruxpin,
Worlds of Wonder, dare me, make it
darker.

Coen, Cohen, Koan - here I am. heneni
I am Sam,
from Green Eggs and Ham,
the gurgle in the gut is the greeting
Activa colonies use,
a salute, preparatory to a fibroushite
is real light, to spark
a thought,
ought that matter? thinks the thorn
to the tree.

Might I not reach as far as
any ever was, and be there,
waiting for you
to ***** up from down there,

and try to patent authority
to the door path,
set in stones no known system can maintain
prior to the reconnection,
soul to spirit,
with a joint venture equal supported,
merest of attention, tiny qua qual quant
ant-tenae, getitgotit ping ping ping

A whistlee scree ee eee on a ship,
a grey-you-see battleship grey,
signal to attend, hearken, listen up,

***** ups, we got a box of SAE nuts
Just one.
{superflous questions are
spir'ts of nonsense, that peacemakers
hold in utter *******, the real deal
gimped out and shut up, sick
and tired of being awake.

Sleeping dogs and lions and dragons,
all are allowed to lie.
Peplish, in a word. we nullify the effect}

We make it up, then we enter-spir'ts entra
tainment contain a casting forth
of flavors and char-acting traits.
as when cheffing jeffe's greasy spags,
gentle reverse stir, see,
like a drain in the floor of a sportsclub
in Alice Springs,
{Mar 75}

reverse stir, let us catch the first loose
noodle, using the spoon you done
the gentle spin reversal move with,
see, the noodles in the boiling, slightly
briny bubbling water, all little clusters
of three, two alike and one way bigger,

"let it go" Y'load 16 tons, and what do you get?"

You learn, to sing songs your grandpa
had reasons to sing,
not rational reasons, irrational design
reasons to believe,
this can't be all there is, it was 1965.

Dead center set for highschool angst
with blobs and werewolves and vampires
all sets set to then as now,
as if,
these are those same good old days,-
frankly means nada to me, clearly
you see means
what I seem to say as you gulp entire
lines as reasons to let the letters be
see
if we do agree, is more fun, I shall explain fun,
later, be-ware, accept the token crumb,
cookie related allusion, not path taken

tread lightly, when walking the edge
that did the dividing, soul from spirit, I
dare say, no doubt, the first
tool users, were superfluous, once.

Spir'ts of such as survived in story,
those are with us to this day, yes,
we get these clear everybody knows signals,
circa Eisenhauer, beginning frame, true, man
show us where we were warned, and knew
things are complex indust-try try war no more,
there
is a null set now, and in the reasoning
acknowledging KJV Is-ai-aha, filled with jokes.

E.G. Golden Emarauds
AI ai, Big us, Gus, the Dodge Ram,
competition orange,
transforms into Uncle Richard, the telecom guy
who refused to fly,
Gus got us where we went, after those
runnin' and gunnin' days,
with the Barbie Doll, in her prime,
I saw her the other day,
time's been kind, I'll say, this story has sets
of sets peplishared winds of wonder then…

we were, and I was Ok and you were Okeh,
and we agreed, really agreed on the word,
Okay means that.
O'que, you can, you may as well,
just
say what you mean I am not alienable from.
Now, what?
April 502 common conscience novel event lego'd
Norbert Tasev Aug 2021
He pinned his drowningly amber, amber waterfall into an artistic bun — hoping that others would see his two eyes, illuminating his entire Cleopatra face; a whispering hyena desire throbbed in the air as he awoke with respect! A wary, shameful admiration trembles with aimless balm on her peony lips; mulish alienation appeals to someone who sincerely loves, it has become a bit alienable! His silver-white handcuff-ducks, the universe-desire of his delicate fingers trembled with an electric discharge when the little bell called in his bell-ringing heartbeat!
 
Little boy with sadness - he shouldn't have answered - feeling the cheap secrets, the enchanted heart could easily raise a cathedral! Cupid's tired arrow always misses something else and falls to the ground in helpless paralysis? Nor can it be a painkiller to selfishly wickedly injure a person who is lost and can rarely find a home without help!
 
Essential Soul foods are deliberately lost sight of and left to be lost! The hell machines and wreckage stars that make us oblivious to everyday life, the compulsion to comply: The pessimistic, exhibitionist layer of celebrity measurements is chased by small-style goros every day: when every minute person expects a low reputation! Rose petal bodies like feverish brothel stops ask for and provide natural services! And none of the fairies trapped in exhibitionism ask, "Would you like a little chatter?" - In small-style fame, it is still better for some to bathe than to cuddle after hard, hunger-hungry entrants!
 
Every path in our spiral-existence runs like an endless patient curve, and it’s better to pick out strangers so you can find out how much you really feel?!

— The End —