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One leaves his leaves at home
beomg a mullen and sends up a lighthouse
to peer from:  I will have my way,
yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten
fifty, a hundred, smaller and smaller
as they grow more—Liar, liar, liar!
You come from her!  I can smell djer-kiss
on your clothes.  Ha! you come to me,
you, I am a point of dew on a grass-stem.
Why are you sending heat down on me
from your lantern?—You are cowdung, a
dead stick with the bark off.  She is
squirting on us both.  She has has her
hand on you!—well?—She has defiled
ME.—Your leaves are dull, thick
and hairy.—Every hair on my body will
hold you off from me.  You are a
dungcake, birdlime on a fencerail.—
I love you, straight, yellow
finger of God pointing to—her!
Liar, broken ****, dungcake, you have—
I am a cricket waving his antennae
and you are high, grey and straight.  Ha!
Lucy Tonic May 2015
Sackcloth on the tenterhook
Birdfeeders or birdlime
What is above must be holy
Cause 666 is time

The letter kills unless it’s
Written on the human heart
The martyrs win their crowns
And another life to start

There’re fresh waters above the heavens
But the lake of fire must be brimming
We’re all in the fish tank
Whether we’re sinking or swimming

The bridal city made of jasper
Gives babies eloquent tongues
The beauty penetrates my bones
The crystal air fills my lungs

But while we’re still on earth
The ancient sinner waits
Mocking the ignominy of our flesh
And using us as bait
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
Clouds pass, I watch
from my perch above most things,

humming bird high, raven high,
a little lower than the graceful
turkey vultures,

floating in a thought bubble,
blessed with a bit of silicon and dawn,
detergent, resilience ******,
flexible reasoning for remaining

it is said, we all differ slightly,
we are the spiritual a- eh, what do we
call our bubbling minds, intuned on lines for re
asonic resonance morphing most ideas
of all mankind, at once, could muster into a mob,
ah,
that's anxious ifery, ala the - strong man theory -
we think together,
whatsoever,
as a word, is of greater reach than many think,
whatever never gets there, let it be, whatever
believe it or not,
there is as far as that goes, the realm of all wedoms.

Elohimdom come, as a man thinks…
we think
is there a state of common prayer, inside a temple,
time tells,
dig it.

Live and learn, good and evil, done, not in doing,
but in learning the patterns, coknowing the knacks,

confabulation favor, prophecy,
who smote thee with wisdom's switch- on and off,

alternation currency op-onionates reasonates, hesi

odd, jump in mind, we think we heard a famous name,

Hesiod, said, rather,
my connection to Wikipedia said,
He is generally regarded as the first written poet
in the Western tradition
to regard himself as an individual persona
with an active role
to play
in his subject

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hesiod>

Who should object, word play, is not warfare.
Not. imp
implicative, enfolding, implications, crease, cross
winds in reasons,
- come let us. Is spoken by whom, to whom
your guess, good as mine,
who wishes each bit its own bit in spacetime, I am
sure you may imagine, using a mind from your library,
- Think another way, a while
- get the sense of being in another wedom.
Then see we all exist in a very odd set of circumstances,

Two shall chase a thousand, according to a pattern…

Pride, in my time, is a deceptively sticky birdlime,
along certain fructifying branches,

where a carcass of the dodo sits on display.
Steve Erkle-wise, asking a buffalo skull how
Minerva's owl, reflected

in the dawn sheen on the bubble of all we know
about now.

Word play is warfare to my minds,
I have a vast array of war formed hats,

archaic armor on the croc branches,
and beetle and ant twigs provide noding.

Words gathered, and used, amused for pleasure,
sure plea, each request taken is made, surity,
reusable, freely, being fair, ideas are in the air.

believe me, the begging story cries,
surely, we live on the tell, safe bet,

tip the nonsensical into the phor of Meta,
as an afterthought, in the zeitsprach

mit zwei, und ich, wir sind das Sein,

To ward, guard, regard
each set, each pair,

each one may nay say, or nothing.

Adages and proven herbs, proverbially
persist

past due dates on mental library cards,
due to reading once, you know,
a thing, or some things,
are said to have been
found known,
and nowadays,
Google fetch is real, power
remembering clearly, any scriptura,
as any amusement, mental act, mind game,
word play bemusing as,
all the people say, amen.
You know what that means. So be it,
characters come in subsets, recognized
according to this flavor deemed westerly
- whatsoever two or more of us agrees

whenever, fasting slowly, in recollection, why
again did we fast… is ai ah, reason…

and there's that rub, the touch, you know.

Fear of death, it is known, is common.
Loss of that fear is measured madness, ha, ha.

who will it be tomorrow, you or me,
asks arthur lee, on the beach on the low side
as the current assumes a state, occurrency
o-pe open-opine love is not a gap
ping
mimetic emetic, mittere, mis-mission

accomplish, splat. The bee who found the flowers.
On the windscreen.

Autopilot, trial run. A did'jgital balsa wood fighter…

cruising around Steam's rest in peace options.
Time spent musing, shared for the worth of the time
mldfnd May 12
I'm not broken
It's just the room we're in
Coated with birdlime
The game gets you waiting
Time and time again-

Pigeonholed people
Dividing all intent
Your eyes homing in
Down the beam of light
Time and time again-

In cascade,
kinda nervous, kinda not
That's your anchor
To the neck
And it's on purpose.

I won't come unglued
But oh, I would.
For now
That's a spark worth inspecting.

— The End —