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Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
life more abundant calls forth an expandable reality primo,
thus wisdom, the principal thing when-ce all other
things may be made

machine level codifiers ifying
meaning back into idle words.

Keep the secret. Answer the call,
who will help the widow's son?

You, Templar, what message bear ye to my child?,
asked the widow.
Fi-del-e-tus. with a squeeze and a tap,
wink and grin

Poet, who named the prophet?
who named the teller to tales?
who gave thee hearing ear and seeing eye?

Some mind imagined those as yet unformed in forever past.
You agree. You experienced living, so far.

So good, we move on, figurative re re re al-it if-ity
Haps apt to appear be fore your veri variety of being even
hapt as a thing thought, imagined made for a function, as yet

undone. Conserve the NULL set, that whole idea is dangerously
close to fading…

Have you seen those videos of soap bubbles filled with H
and no O?
You should see those, to recall the phenomenonal pre-dictatorial
image, see the bubble, invisible but
for reflection of ambient ambits in our epigenetic radiosphere,

bubbles collapse, and for a flash, flame orange shaped
as the bubble was.
No ex-plo sion it-a-tivity, mere dis cipation,
loss of grip on the shape of things that were, now
con forms to re per ceive,

try again, get a good grip, swing and a miss, go again
take a Mulligan, I think, some game has such a rule,

We can use it here. We can scroll back up,
like a rope lift on the bunny hill at Big Bear, back when…

wheels in wheels, bubbles in bubbles, forms in forms

this is the information age I was informed. Adamkind, those
qubitical, ambitical little images of

Who, who? would a name comfort-you worth more than a breath?
Fresh air after a minuted moment twixt out and in again,

Power, create ific power haps twixt out an in again,
the cipitation, the d was missed, what if it were not?

re-read, religion once meant that, re-connect, too,
religion meant that state of having re-read the map,
re-tied the worth carrying,
stacked the worthless by the trail so
some hapless stranger may see
the treasure it was and is, to any who care to

receive, or con ceive it for the
truth I found in it and kept, which I leave to you
here:
Both treasure and truth are where ye find them,
and shall be for ever, when ever starts for you.

Ezekial, judge my riddle, please. The fool missed the
point of conception…
No, no no no

A fool's dance in a Phrygian cap with useless, symbolic wings…
gee, Phrygian, means nothing to you? Google it, you live in the future.
Later,
A time upon which a Mercury dime would comfort
a rich American Tyrant, son of the Flim-flam man,
no lie, this is mythic, you can't make this stuff up
its history. Hysterical, right
John D. Standard-for-Petropower-manifestation,
the dead's carbon footprints bubbling up
to fire and fridgin' ice, whoa, who broke the world,

I was distracted. Did you know the planet is
as self healing as those scabs on my grandkids knees?

ah, caper, eh? Capere, to grasp, to take,
ceive means accept by taking,
be liefing an idea ceived ex nihilo, is likened unto

Drinking from a still pond in a distant land. Sults,
results. may result in,
Dear Rhea revenging Montezuma, at a gut level.

However, a sort of how in an open mind facing forever,
a sort of omni-directional saliency
seeing further,
--Bomb, Jesus-bomb--

At least two reasons for thinking Jesus is objective, out side
you or inside you. You aren't Jesus. Jesus is a friend of mine,
in my mind, object-if-I-try
to pray, listen pray hopes
happen
shapes form
forever from ever point, every point, not of, in buy

a why..
why does a y on the end of every mean any thing?

That's the y-factor. You will learn why wise men still seek those.
As treasure, they are light, and the taste is beyond

the grasp of tongue to tell

that whole class of moded-ever words weave wards
whenever, forever, however, whatever
used proper, everafter,
that will save Dresden, some time, we think.

However, now, Rhea by name has entered the game.

Who is this named femofame? What game is she good in?
Or does she just knock the **** out of lying spirits?
Cool.

Ah, mother of all the gods, I recall, I mean
I meant to say
I remember, then I for got the power words hold here
exactly heare in eleven metrixed mentions,

this point, in time, not of time.
In the world, not of the world, you've heard the pharse?
The allusion is not lost on you, you know the phrase,

In the world, not of the world, holier men than I have
claimed to be, while I follow a few fine words,
linguistic kief, sprinkled fairy dust, like the stuff
captured in the gleaming film on your
microscopic-outer eye

see a salient point in time.

A pin point 'pon which one,
no more,
one story begins for ever, a gain in good net
value, if

we have tasted that word, chewed the gristle,
indigestible ligaments and sin-yews and such,
which once anchored meat to bone,

value is first good. Good e nough, nough
Gut genug, okeh,
maybe not my best, my best is yet to come, they say.

sufficient for today
------

enough (adj.)
c. 1300, from Old English genog "sufficient in quantity or number,"
from Proto-Germanic compound *ganog "sufficient"
(source also of Old Saxon ginog,
Old Frisian enoch, Dutch genoeg,
Old High German ginuog, German genug,
Old Norse gnogr, Gothic ganohs).
First element is Old English ge- "with, together"
(also a participial, collective, intensive, or perfective prefix),
making this word the most prominent surviving example
of the Old English prefix,
the equivalent of Latin com- and Modern German ge- 
(from PIE *kom- "beside, near, by, with;" see com-).
Second element is from PIE *nok-, from root *nek- (2)
"to reach, attain"
(source also of Sanskrit asnoti "to reach,"
Hittite ninikzi "lifts, raises,"
Lithuanian nešti "to bear, carry," Latin nancisci "to obtain").

As an adverb, "sufficiently for the purpose,"
in Old English; meaning
"moderately, fairly, tolerably" (good enough) was in Middle English. Understated sense, as in have had enough "have had too much" was in Old English (which relied heavily on double negatives and understatement).

As a noun in Old English,
"a quantity or number sufficient for the purpose." As an interjection, "that is enough," from c. 1600. Colloquial 'nough said is attested from 1839.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/enough#etymonlinev8703>
Godliness with contentment is great gain, a precept I was chewing on following a ritual holy day of gratitude to goodness for goodness sake in my cultural gut genug state of mind.
The Path of the Righteous Man is beset on all sides
by the inequities of the Selfish
and the Tyranny of Evil Men.

Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will
shepherds the Weak through the Valley of Darkness,
for he is truly his Brother's keeper,
and the finder of lost Children.

And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger,
those who attempt to poison and destroy my Brothers!
And you will know my name is the Lord
when I lay my vengeance upon thee!
"I've been sayin' that **** for years, and if you heard it, that meant yo' ***.
I never gave much thought to what it meant, I just thought it was some cold blooded **** to say to a ******* before I popped a cap in his ***,
but I saw some **** this morning that made me think twice.
See, now I'm thinking:

Maybe it means you're the Evil Man, and I'm the Righteous Man, and mister 9mm here, he's the Shepard protecting my righteous *** in the valley of Darkness.

Or, it could mean that you're the Righteous Man, and I'm the Shepard, and it's the World that's evil and selfish.. and I like that, but that **** ain't the Truth.

Truth is:

You're the Weak,
and I am the Tyranny of Evil Men.
But I'm trying, Ringo, I'm trying real hard
to be the Shepard.

Go."
-
"I think we should be leaving now."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea."
-
Pulp Fiction, 1994,
Quentin Tarantino.
Showman Jun 2013
Coffee and tea at the cafe of Christ
The Bible for breakfast
Slurping stories from ***** and Samuel
To Ezekial and Ezra.
Start your day the holy way with Christ chex.
Ahh. The breakfast of champions
JL Dec 2011
I woke up and wrote your letter
The Morning sun wash shining
After a long rainy night
I spent it trying to understand
How I am supposed to float
How the trees are supposed to wrap and squeeze
The raven on his branch
****** harm of the moon
White light through forest seeps
Forget the meaning of a moment
Pressing on the tile
How your skin was warm
And your hands alright
Fire burned from Hades that day
And the claws of demons reached up
To scratch my screams
Your parables are a common monolouge
******* in my brain
Revalations and Galatians, Ezekial, Jeremiah
John the APOSTLE to christ
Was exiled to the island Patmos
A bullet would put my brain on ice
Character Speech of Naked demons
Pouring Fire onto the world
to ash
to ash
to ash
The seven seals
Breath the ash in and out
Standing strong footed in the Millenium
Where he rules again
With an iron rod
Despair
Rebellion Screams in the blood of your young heart
A spray of ****** violence against a creator of lust
and love
and pain
and ash
The prince of peace
Whose blood anointed the sins of the childerens childrens children
Speeding up to heaven on winged steeds
Let your words pierce my armor
Unto my very bones
It is better than this pain I feel
Your own annointed son
Bleeding on an alter
Incense swirling this
I wish the mounains
Would fall upon me
Ken Pepiton Oct 2022
at the riddle...

Ezekial 17- the  chapparal around me
I feel laughing,

We have had a wet October, the elven forest
and all its winter resting creatures,
feels laughing happy today,

as I mind fly over the old trail,
marked clearly, once you see the sign,

The Trail Less Travelled By -

you can see it, from Google Earth eyes,
if you know where to look,
but you can't feel this from there.
My forest, in these environs, is
called elven, due to lowly stature,
- no majestic trees here
my forest is wild, no trails not leading
to water, eventually, if you head downhill;
My forest,

if you will, allows us to see it extends
to Arizona, across the watered desert,
strange
there is no horizo, no line marking mine.

But desert coyotes come here to harvest
sweet-sour fruit
of little, red manzanita
loaded with  wee tiny apples,
which coyotes eat, but barely chew.

- maybe we could package these//

It may be like that delicacy coffee,
roasted after being goat shat.
The story of proud trees jealous of the scrub lands. My take.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2022
Wild mind grown gentle in survival.

Christ, the mind, not the imagined, the actual
what would the persona in the role be bound to do?

Destroy the works of the captivator, the adversary
of sanity,
the governmental mind, the entity of empires amore-
pheum fume de an English man,

sung in presentation saying I am seed of a dream,
messages were racing up and down on ladders loaded
with message carriers, each having for wings,
wheels spinning so fast, the spokes were lifted on wind.
Ezekial said, spoked wheels in each of those, and inside that
wheels in wheel I tell you, I swooned,
-I knew, all things do work,
it’s a process…
and one line later I learn, I am in the book of life.
Just think of that, of all the readers of any line,
you read mine.
In your time.
And gave me cause. Ready is read past-tension. Sprung.
Today I learned of ... lasting peace, stretching ...
Ken Pepiton Oct 2019
This is a warm day,
in October.

I've weighed the reasons for my concern
and found them wanting,

I'll make no difference, come what may.

Come, what may, be the motivator
the in
stigator
the reason, raison d'etre eh?
we
find hope and do what, what
do we do
with misplaced hopes?

we chew them up and spit them out,
'call'em riddles,

inspired by Ezekial 17. Yeah, Q,
and A
bullhead twisted to uplookin POV

the Alpha bet a bull

Legends never see from this POV.
We are blessed.
We have artificial intelligence,
sending us trends
we may buck. Upto the point,

did you read that?
Is it October warm still? Or did the rest of the ice finally melt
and let the great Northern Gyre
spin free?
musing on the things being fretted over, that may or may not be made better by me.
Ken Pepiton Jul 2024
Base to Major Tom…

all around me now is sound, it seems
only yesterday, in dreams,

this keeps happening,
we keep thinking eventually finality

drops the curtain, and we become
our own selves… found in our hardened parts,

as when one knows the riddles all come
with one right answer, or the riddle is not fair.

Ezekial 17, comes to my mind,

because I happen to live in chapparel,
of the sort they have south of Lebanon…
mentioned in the riddle.

Who ignores the money side of things…
you know,
the business of being creative distributors,
agents allowing the artist
to premature.

It's your show, kid,
this is all you wished for, make it last.
What a time to be old, and on the first wave that became today's augmented intelligence adapted sapience education system... see: {viral idea AKa AI}
Doug Engelbart, “The Augmented Knowledge Workshop”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sG3PWet8fDk
Ken Pepiton Dec 2024
Along the threaded lag bolt path,
at scale, as existence twists toward
a peace past understanding, even
in the past when religions won
wars against heathen satanic
savages and book makers…
made slaves of all losers…
and heroes died young…

old Is-ai-ah a liar yoke broke bull.

Or does life
in the word realm extend dominion
across domains long reserved
for the learn-ed mankinds
worth decreed long lines
of ration reservations,
right to use rules,
golden ruled,

chuwd chiydah
riddle a little riddle

shamar briyth amar
by keeping our weform
whatsoever we agree, we
makes our stand, not under
by my own word, I so say, on
--gwanb'guns half done doit
be thinking once I heard tell

I know that riddle
in Ezekial,
from a POV ascribed
to professional amanuensis -
ritual hear and reply, last words
spoken -
in secret sacred all in once
told tales, crossroad wagers offered

never tell a soul you saw the towb ra'
without mentioning the wise serpent,

risen
in curious music
from nowhere,
wha…

a class of tongueless eunuchs
some have suggested. Created
to oath bound accuracy, verbum
verily holding the rude pen in spirit

17:21… after the riddled parable

And all his fugitives
with all his bands shall fall
by the sword, and they
that remain shall be scattered
toward all winds:
and ye shall know

{Dusty trails, forever}

that I the LORD have spoken
[it].
A long, long time ago…

Suffice
to know the Torah, preserves
the form
of temporal wrath defense rituals,
Jolly good luck charming mitzvahs,
the recipes, the dance, none chance
old as the stories told during Job's days,
centuries before Moses, if Moses ever was,

as the witnesses
of all first drafts… done left us
riddles and esoterica, mostly
to keep us safe
from preachers.
Safe at home. Made peace by calling out for war profitteers future plans, and I got BAE 's website... NATO ARMS DEALERS PUBLIC ACCESS
dammed domain flux CAPSLOCKED me sir next.... the rest

— The End —