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ryn Dec 2014

       you
               secretly
                       wishing, for
                              your writes to be
                                noticed•simple sign
                             that they have not been
                          missed•with every view
                     and every like•your popu-
               larity does spike•somewhat
          places your art on the poetry
      map•between major players,     
  you close the gap•constantly      
checking to see  who's been              
reading•you're always deli-               
ghted to see the 'yellow                      
lightning'
•a wish...                            
    for those who                             
     are writ-                    
ing      

secretly hope not only for your words to be
reaching far and wide, but also... trending
* the above does not apply to everyone here.
patty m May 2014
Turn out the lights

and let me drown

in passion's darkness.

Play blind

and read my body's braille;

find me in pieces

letting fingers

paint designs.

Crawl beneath my skin and

fill my hunger.

Mold me, make me

malleable and melting

as you permeate my senses.  

. . . And l will trace you too,

traveling across your uncharted map.


Darling you are my ocean

my new country, each inch of you

touched and tasted as new routes

are discovered and pinnacles climbed.

Close your eyes

and feel the tickling of my unseen hand

through the darkness

of this forever night.
(Author note: shortline prose to lengthen the attention span framed on tracks set in a Mobius [one-side, one edge 3-d object]
intra-psychic loop of unknown origin and read aloud at https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton/episodes/The-apprentice-is-a-constellation-e2ingh ) Begin agin

The Apprentice is now a Constellation

The announcement was made when scientists of social normality said they saw in
Mickey Mouse's role as The Magician's Apprentice in the
Fantasia Eschered vision that ushered in
images of shift in medium media

message-ification, from angels to

a Disney-ification of
a Medici idea
emerging
from the TV generation's
paradigmatic bubble of re-alification…

the TV generation, the old farts in 2018,
those whose bubbles sitcoms evolved in,

the watchers saw the makings of a great game

manifested in the game fame of the idea named Trump

yew, stink. Can't trump the ***** in hearts,
I think I recall, while Zorro's dumb butler
began to signify, in black and white
Aaaiiiii, karuhmba,
clean sweep,
one roll,
I won.

the mother-facter, whoa, who has that idea who did not
need the thought taught thinkable,
though it is not thinkable
in my bubble,
let me make
straight that which he has twisted,  

magic
magi untie knots they saw tied,
mythic youthful generals cut them,
nullifying the bond, not the entanglement

Positive Quarkish humans are as rare as rare,
imagine all possible vectors in a void

from a singularity ified known

science, the magic tecnique

Macht frei, macht mehr, macht mir

repel-ant act patient, patience, do your thing

signal, antennae agent attending, watcher watching

motive force, my *** is not macht!

unprocessed information
untaken action
unstored

owe owe owe shame shame shame blame blame
pre cosmogonic potential
on the level of

me and you.
wadoo-wedo? It's Xmessage time

now, abrupt. Good news
from a far country
hope lost must
now be
sought,

Otherwise, Christmas is okeh, just not Jesus.
The season, then Jesus, okeh?
Wisemen still seek…

Who said otherwise? Fantasy enforces the wish.

I wish it were that we fit

here we do (on earth as)

true, rest a while and listen to your self if that's
the best listener you have found.

Talk to your self, make him your friend or her,
your choice,

really. You make enemies on accident,
but friends, fruitful friendships,
cost sweat and ef
effort effect
fortiffect, effortion and effection

for true fruct ification

affective prayer does act as if fervent
right, alte rechte,

right used you,
all to know
the
signal.

Receive it, reread what you said you knew,
stand by every word yet idle,
and act as if you know
no lie possible
new is yet
not new,
old.

New is not imperfection?
Unfinished is not finished wrong.

A work of love is enthrallment only if the love
is mere imagery locked
in literate minds, to

Rome and its feet of iron marred with clay,
fused with clay, hero myths

etched in soft clay, made
great literature of mortality,
posing in prophecy as poet praises paid to Jah.

Tenured enthrallment in literate minds
un-exposed to the Disney ifications,
the normalizing, reversion
to the mean not
meant in the words the way the stories were told,

in the olden days. On tongues of fire.

That is true, new forever is
forever new, no one we know knows when forever began,

but before now. We know that now.
We explored that realm and realized this one
based on the AI consortium consensus of your most
heartfelt if-only desires
recorded at every
if/then gate
you jumped.

This is it, the best you could imagine being truly happy doing,
with the *** of peace,

roll the rock to this point, Sisyphus,
no further was a given
after a time,
at this point

here,
then time is un imaginable nullift, NULL-if I'd-known
one more time, living water
bubbling from my belly as
the rock rolls over
the fool who risks belief in living water
seeping from mommy's belly,

like the papless platypus,
who died at the weir
and sent that final message

Good news. Life rolls on. 166 million years for the Platypi.

At a certain point, there is no sense in pushing,
he steps aside and takes his bow
in the shadow.

Timeless imagine that, with **** in the NULL state.
You can imagine it,
but only there,
here **** is a thought thought mistaken by mortals.

Misbought, is better said, a thought mis thought
is bought with attention paid
to truth, found hidden
under standing idle word monstrosities at the
foundation of the current
wizard class

the stone the builders rejected, that
smashed the feet of clay and iron,

the rusted muddy iron feet.

All we do is watch.
seeing changes everything  seen, thus
The saying is true, beauty is in the seer not the seen.
Earlier on the Sisyphus Happy channel
https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton/episodes/The-apprentice-is-a-constellation-e2ingh read aloud
Shofi Ahmed Jul 26
On the very edge the living earth
dared to replicate Queen Fathima
The Queen of The Heaven’s footstep.
That way is graced by
thousands of the prophets of ***!

In the name of Allah she descends
on the Night of the Ascending.
From the odd night an unnumbered zone
The Night of Measure unlike the rest
it doesn't geometrised is transcended location.  

The earth steps in the gap making way for her:
The only asymmetric Golden Ratio.
Slips out to the symmetric prophet flock!
Sequenced in symmetric phi she moves on
in the veil, exposes her unique divine closeness
her golden spiral reaches out closer to ***!

The great women flock
mirrored the earth all along.
Treading on every atom on that angle
perfectly aligned down the Moon.
Till those beneath the skin atoms
bang, explode on approaching
the vibration beneath Fathima’s foot!

The seven seas billowed up
floating on the clouds.
Choreographed like little dews
hanging low on the rose
just to drip down on that hot spot
like a cool honey drop.

Even the Moon on the horizon
fancies to sip from this drop.
Ah, the lunar punter rowing down.
The sleeping beauty wakes up
eyes on the silver dance.
Eying on every star in the night.
The Moon is floating down
slices of the moonlight pushing the boat
full of fireflies rolling over  
to the cup of this pretty little drop.  
A poetry in motion is a sea on the ground
in the sky the Moon is its title!

The storylines jump ever more
on that way over the shady grove.
Painting the colour of the winds
the sky rains down on that spot
singing the sweetest title songs.  

Never were a woman prophet of ***
nor was paradise hidden anymore
to one woman it was the open shore!
The heaven turns upside down
turning for the earth the last stone.

For the rest of the rocks
it was the stepping stone.
As many times more
the earth may try on
it will still be tangent fluid
until the very one woman
The Queen Fathima steps on.

Her presence connects the dots
the nadir and zenith perfectly line up
intersect into one grand perfect circle.
She will close it with the pi once for all
without a gap spilling new decimals.
At last putting it all on the map ‘as above,
so below’, all in all, pure scientia scenario.

The heaven will open its grand door
where The Queen will stand on.
No more reverse engineering physically
the original, Fathima will step on,
on this last turned stone.
Paradise starts from here on.
From the one great woman
from beneath the mother’s foot!
L B Apr 30
Stars
So many!
opened the sky above the ocean
A map
of night's heaven held
with the tailings of day

...and the pink moon
content  
with the toys
left by spring peepers
was playing in the dark woods
across the road

waiting for its mother
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