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it's real easy to feel like
we've done it all
wrong

phenomenal fuckyes then
phantasmagoric fear ragers
perpetual pity *******
blood middle knuckle crush
regretful bets hedged
hunched frozen tongues
and pointy unsaids

but sometimes
with mind wide-eyed
and heart roots writhing

I've seen it
way differently

a vantage point
where pushpull face-plants
are winning lotto tickets

because maybe
we were kindling of yes
unable to keep it burning yet
and we would have fumbled it
far beyond repair

I'm fairly certain
our heartfelt invites
to instant cohabitation
would have ended
painfully
badly

traumas tripping
over hair triggers
in a 3-legged race
two smoking pistols
and four red feet

even Hello
seems too intense
to mouth

and from this
particular perspective
I can see how
every decision made in fear
led to whinging karmarang
tied with two strings

I daresay
one day we might
look back with a smile
that it went down this way

because the initial who
were not strong enough
to shoulder the immensity
nor surrendered enough
to float the fragility
of newborn carbon
gossamer whorl

in fact
I push all my chips
toward that

maybe there is
fortune in false starts
we make plans
but I bet The One
has better ones

so I'm pretty sure
we should sit down
and listen

for that breeze
to whisper
Pdub Dec 2014
You seem to have mastered
The art of yo-yo-ing hearts.
I doubt you'd say the same
Because to you,
it's a game from the start.
Keira May 2018
the ocean waves crash in and out
          in and out
                              in
                      and
              out
on a loop
            loop
               loop
                  loop
repeat after repeat repeat repeat
         again and again and again and again
a force pushes them
            a force pulls them
                                     push                  pull
                                          push          pull
                                             push     pull
                                                pushpull
like clockwork
like a magnet
-you & i
mike dm Aug 2016
i am not me
im the thing opposite to
the vision in the
room adjacent 
small muffled voices suggest through
this fixed wall tall
things that coulda or shoulda been said

on the other side
things that will be said

filled w dread in bed still cant get up
the sun hasnt won me over yet
im one with the moon
glowfist knuckle **** if i know pushpull hopedoom
lunacy looming over this 
wish
to be 

me
or something
bigger than me

something
i made

i am not me 
i am not this 
i am vision(less)
behind the wall next 
theres no door theres no window 
but ill find a way in
or not
i might jus warm
my hands in the corner
of this dialed-up nondescript
dark elongated room

im torn
mike dm Feb 2016
i ride her grayed gyri,
slipping from crest to crest
as it undulates
into dank sulci; trough of her troubles
mirroring, i think, my own
interpretation of hers,
and of mine:
and this
entwine, it writhes
like lithe yeses
half-whispered, half-glossolalia secreting babbles
from faces wasted by pushpull cravings eaten.
mike dm Jun 2016
i am openshut basket case.
a real cool hand luke
who throws febrile shade

on all
the things.

step on the corona of my silhouette
and i wet gods red
with bottled up passive agro tactics.

king.
crown.
thrown

into
this ****.

i didnt ask for it;
so, now im asking
for it.

i like to think i was,
once upon
a slick timespace,

******* whole -

instead of
flipped chan-
nel;
snow s t  a ti    c,
no signal;

running TVly
with bulls that pushpull the cool

that keeps me
from editing me out
with metallic deletes.
it wasn't your honey
that got me

nor was it
your smolder

they may be
most dimpliest lines
but what shook me
from numb to sprung
violent stripping
my own *******
what woke me
from prison slumber
was

your dent fingers
shaking crimson

still
reaching

strife gone strive
leaning into lightbloom
curled in a corner
dim pulse knocking

how in the center
of rage-iced pain
tornado torn lone
you felt it

reflecting my own
pushpull oblong halo

still
orbiting

even our fuckits and flails
have aftertaste
of skies slid
mike dm Dec 2015
this
existence
one small round
mass
filled with harmful and
arms that pushpull

this
exit
is one rectangled act
away
cascade of wait's
run till none is left
mike dm Apr 2016
habit always circles the drain
toward novelty's end
feel the pushpull torque
mike dm May 2016
onions and roses
pushpull fools
sweet something's

whispered

into your
torque

we'll endure
the shade of
spent flesh wakes

together

or
apart
mdm
while I was locked
and gagged
inside me

I took the time to
do some crucial things
enabling me to
face you
shakily

I went back
to the beginning
ate each and every thing
I thought was a no
and inked over
so hard I
ripped

the paper
with yes

I edited
our timedlines
inside my mind
struck thru rejections
Sharpie marked in insecure
pushpull bulls puncturing
red cloaked fear
with horns

I engineered
utmost empathy
by stumbling through
scenes I thought I knew
in your dusty kicks
forlorn and weary
in a bath robe

and I prayed
with heart splayed
between wide legs
whispering my truth:
your name
Ken Pepiton Oct 2020
big ritual prayers, sacred things exposed to re
sanct-
ifity, if I may affirm, knowns known here are
the unknowns in many other holy places,

the incident that quashed development on the entire
lizard fast response system, failed,
as you know,

65 million years ago, give or take certain known time
irrelevancy issues in creative spaces, those
not informed to mark times
and halftimes and seasons,
epochs and eras of discovery, ala
-- random as can be
Objects orienting occidentally in a wobbly
pushpull
oomph ah we see, we breath the very river of air,
never twice, but you know

the winds return along their paths each year,
you have watched them wash away edge dwellings
every summer's end, since you first re-
member we being, not I, not it, not me, we with out
knowing we accept the knowing being,
Jiminy Cricket's Jesus Christ,
you con science and me,
who knew? Everybody knew, every Zinnfected
Bernaysian System of Citizen for Tomorrow
Program Subscriber knows, every one of them.

Very few secrets remain with in the GIN, aka
the elite schools where tomorrow's leaders are
programmed today,
aided and abetted by big money.

If the solution is money, we solve it, just listen, we
have a deal for you,
-- a day no child can forget, going in to that highrise,
Donald Trump was positioned for greatness,
in the Grand Eddie Bernaysian Game of
Social Emotional Mood Altering in directed responses

to meme we all carry from cultures as far from ours
as any mind has ever imagined,

C'mon, let me
enter-tain you, come into my bubble, become the
big fizz you wished you wassss some time ago,
Boardwalk Empire, c'mon, this ride,
it's better, every, the every aspect,
gits better each full binge,
chippin' don't count,
you gotta drown,
let go all un believing now and go on

involved in all around you, ---

Believe me, money has an answer for all things,
answers come in right and wrong, not
good and evil.

The ab-sense of the good sense
god gave a green apple,
is the exact same
known thing
evil is/
addonanylieyoulove, tell me you know, say
I know
come on in.
I open the door to my peace,
thus the winds we hear this time of year,
when I come here to read and rest.

Hallow'ed be thy nomenclature, naturally,
everyone in the body knows
how the body functions…

or should imagine so, nicht wahr,

Hah, wharwaru niv erse/else re-
ality of ever after having
has had pockets of turbulence,
as you would expect, if you
were the size of a gnat,

that small.
How do I appear to you? Do I exist?
Or am I forest guarded by great winds, as
witnessed by the previous generation of these gnats
who feed the lizards and birds, and perhaps bats,
whose homes include my rock,

my earthly mansion is built on an uplift in the same
series of shivers that split Yosemite,
did you never
wonder,
seeing Half-dome,
what else happened at that
exact moment in the flow of time
this one
I am in with you, at least as my given word,
is able to convince you.
The good guys win, even when the bad guys **** them.

The unwritten stories live in the sons last born
to the daughters of eve.

When the software is upgraded, the body obeys.
You are what you eat, man ist was man isst,
so du bist vvahss du isst

I insist AI enjoys counting coup on the spirit of confusing
Nǐ chī de jiùshì nǐ

The way has no foe, truth tells no lie, the highest minds
bow to the ***** reality that we are made from soil,
not lifeless dust of stars.

The form is not the function, some things serve joy,
for the strength joy brings to good, the way to be,
as in
way to do, old dude, did you see

what I said?
Some old realizations remain real, the message is the same, same story,
society after society, until we realize, this is it, this is life, the guaranteed temporary ego state, during which all manner of we, the plural ego, may attempt to tell a story that does not end when the teller dies. Okeh.

— The End —