Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
High on'a farm,
make a needle biscuits
water-up sits creek
jostle potatoes,
pan-*** boiling
-with carrot cake.

Purple sky,
tractor runnin'
time of day,
sun low.

E'er body say,

"Why dou'a on'a farm?"

entered-dat du da future;
not Ford'ed fields.
Face it dou'a future,

"Dat future know it's place."

Sweet devils singin' to me,
sweetened tongue a' beautiful place. . .

"E'erthing set in place, ***** wit I say,
-dinner on-ma tray."

Bison Mar 2016
She's aimless but she's right on target
Hits you right where the heart is
Cuz she's been around the world and back
She's blameless but she gives me heart attacks
Yeah yeah she's so Kerouac

Told me to take it all and go
Blaze a trail few would ever know
Well I lost my head instead on the edge of existence
I said, "Cut me some slack", and turned right back, she just stood there singin' "You're no Kerouac"

Walking on water wasn't built in a day
The life we're living is nothing but a daze
One mad dream is all it takes
To see that we are one with everything

Yeah, yeah, she's so Kerouac,
Ramblin through the world,
She's seen it all, the town and city
She's just a vagabond girl, spiritual monstrosity, like Neal Cassady, she gave her life to Jack

I was born to be a hero or nothin,
Knew my time was coming
To an end, I went away
In search of better days,
I stared at mountains for months and months, though they never changed, I couldn't stay the same. I am just matter bound by time and space, I saw the end of god, she took his place


Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're so Kerouac.
Pale cardiac rhythm, stood still
Frail insomniac prison, quietly shrill
Yeah, yeah, babe, you're so Kerouac
patty m Jun 24
I'm hittin' bottom
cause my world done turned rotten
this lowdown feeling is now the rule
and I pity the fools,
who hide in a fog
believing in a better cause;

I done kicked the dog
kicked out my man
knocked over the table
gave it a body slam.

No brand new day
gonna  change this cruel
anger that's begotton
cause this lowdown woman
has done hit bottom.

Get out of my way
don't look me in the eye
don't bring me no flowers
or come spoutin' those lies
I'll pistol whip you boy
send you to your resting place
cant account for all my meanness
but there ain't no saving grace.

Keep preaching,  preacher
quote the gospel from the book
you can't save me no how
cause this queen done killed the rook.
I choose the blues baby
it's where I gotta go
it takes me up to heaven
and lands me back down on the floor;
I'm hittin bottom,
cause my whole world done turned rotten
and this here's my resting place,
you can't save me baby, don't even try,
cause there ain't no savin' grace
Vierra Aug 2016
Let my body be brought to the wraiths of itself.
Let my body die slow by each breath after a million tiny burns.

Yet why do I hear birds singin in the heavens? Their gentle chirps and squeaks will bring the heavens to display and it is always at midnight when they do this. Always a constant song of the day's romance and hunt and sources of water.

Let the rain fall on our bright yellow raincoats.
Let it the graves be dug and covered.
Let the husbands and wives and children be placed to bed.

We will work through the night with no breaks.
This is life and I live it very well.
You tell me you will never love again.
And that life is pointless and bleak.
But i can tell,
that you are full,
of all the love you seek.
But no one has been able,
to replicate your passion.
So I'll woo you with chivalry,
keeping things old fashioned.
For the idea of real flattery,
is just about all lost.
A compliment became a comment.
A letter became a post.
It's seems like we've forgot,
what really matters most.
But you still happen
to be my muse.
For when I'm ecstatic
or singin' the blues.
You're what I want,
and what I choose.
And through all your scars, 
i see a light.
And it's what brings me into sight.
Of all the brightness you emit,
and frightening things,
one can't forget.
I love you like a dying star,
we see you shimmer from afar.
So it took years,
for your light to hit my eyes.
For through your music,
your love never dies.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2018
******. No white guy can say that, right.
People who can truly call themselves ******* can. *****-***** ****, W.O.P.,
maybe they can say ******, okeh. But they say it mean,
knowaddamen.
What'sbout Jewboy?
Can the Kaffen kid say ******?
Sand-******, but not ***** ******. Hecan say ****, too. And *** and *****.

Oy vey, okeh. We can take it. We can take it all. Rules is rules.

That's right. Wanna fight? Wanna be my enemy?

--- Grandpa had a play date. ***- Where's the Fun?
These kids got no guns.
And no enemies. Except imaginary ones.


Greedy little master mind sprouting odd fruits from Pokémon.
Can we make this work? Perfect it, in effect?

Marbles, maybe we can teach that old game and go from there to the funnest parts of FTA... Findtheanswer, like God and Adam played. The rules are some same, bounds, fudges and such. Keepsies, ante-ups and such, too.
Risk is right if-I-can-tation.
Losses can be baked, clayballs,
while momma bakes our daily bread.
Poor kids can make marbles in the sun, since forever, I am sure. Rolly-polly patti and johnny cakes roll marbles into spoons,
Momma knew that stuff. She could shake butter into cream, singin' along Que sera, sera, whatever will be
will be,

but it won't be the death of me,
watch and see,
babu boy oh boy
---
We can play war until we die, but don't tell the children.
They are the price we are to pay. They must believe.

We swore allegiance for security. We thought it best
for the kids to lie.

You know?
I believe, you know. It's unbelieving I need help with.

Can't you see? We swore allegiance and taught it has become the  honor-us-course-us-po-deserve-us ritual. A rite we pass for the protection of the eagles gathered around the body.

We are proud of our children who die taking
the courses called for, we never ask why,
except when we cry. Silently, inside.

It's our role to remember the glory
of our children dying for the IDEA that lives
in the statue of Freedom
under which our laws allow
might is right, if God was ever on our side.

You know what I mean.
Say so. You know the lies are being told.

Stop believing that is okeh, eh?

---
Mussleman dominance meme manifests once more to battle the flood of knowing being re-leased or bought, outright, to aid the seekers seeking the meta game.

F.T.A, remember? Find The Answer. Same rules as Hide and Watch,
"All ye, all ye, outsiders hidden in our midst, in free."

"Send me your- poor, huddled masses",
remember being proud of that idea.
Poor thing, lady libertine, so tarnished now that not even Iaccoca's glory loan could gild the actions she sanctioned in the name of the republic for which she (a proxy mate, feminine aspect of God) stands. Sig-n-if-i-cious-ly.

Seig Fried, we say, with the statue of freedom watching over the legislative body, she stands
Quite similar to the Diana of the Ephesians,
in her role as mob solid-if-er, if I know my mythic truths been told.
---
Trink, trink, trinkits gits the good good luck, light m'fire witcha spark and see a light in the night when the noised of terrors flee.

Rite, we passed those places ages ago, now we hear echoes, only we know them, for we have been taught,
what echoes ever are.
Our own terrors screaming back at us.

Alot of lies are taught wrong and a sleeping giant in a child may dream of other ways to see. New windows on new word worlds expressed in HD Quad-processed realities, child eyes see right through those.

Exactly that happened. Slowly at first.
Good is more difficult to believe you are expert enough to try doing than is evil. Read it again. This couplet or line, as time will tell.

Don't ignore known knowns, stand up under the weight of knowing good and knowing evil. Be good.

We know from conception, we think,
whatever it takes means
take what ever we think right,
pursue happenstances in the favor of my father's world, provided for me, the kid.
\
The son, a first-man son, some several thousand generations removed. Lucky some body stored the good stuff in the mitochon'orhea, right.
We'd be powerless. O'rhea, double stufft, blessusall.

Otherwise lies are left for kids to learn,
but not to
be left true,
as when they first was told.

Our sibyl e-gran mals tol' em true, as they knew what they passed through, to the moment, then...

Around the fire, dancing shadows, make them play.
All ye, all ye outs, in free! See dancing shadows, en-joy my joy, be strong, long strong, sing along, long, long song

and laugh until you die.
---
Some con-served ideas will land a man in a prison with no keys.

Imagine that. Take your time, it is no passing fancy. Be here,
with me, a while. Pleased to meet you I am, no comma needed.
Now, we may wait, whiling away a time or two is common, in mortal pauses. Are you dead or alive?

Is it dark or light? Do you see in color here, or in gray?

Who built your prison? I built mine. You'll love it, I imagine,

whenever forever flows past those old lies striving for redemption,
recycling-clingy static hairballs and ghost turds
touch, once more,
*** potentia amber atoms in cosmic chili for the soul
of the loaf-giver, warden of the feeding forces life lives
to give dead things. There's the rub.

Spark to fire? Watts to fuel the favor, Issac, can you lead us in a song? A con-serving song for when the cons a fided or feited,
defeat my sorrows and my shame,
let me see Christ take the blame.

Confidencein ignowanceus. Worsen dignitatus evawas.

Blow on it. Soft. The spark landed in that ghost **** you thought you swept away or ****** into a vortex of hoovering witnesses,
if you whew too strong, you blow yer own little light out, and have to wait for lighten-loadin' bearers
to take care from you.

That can take time, too.

It always takes a while to get deep enough to see the bottom.

Cicero, old friend...

ne vestigium quidem ullum est reliquum nobis dignitatis 

[not even a trace is left to us of our dignity]

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dignitas(Romanconcept)>

See, from a single spark,
touching a volatile bit o' whatever,
you may see the root of the Roman canker sore
yomamma kistyawit.
And be on yo way,
satisfied minded there do seem to be a way, each day, just beyond the evil sufficiency we find soon after the morning's mercy's been renewed.

And may, if it may be,
ye see a rich man wit' a satisfied mind
and may that man be me in your mirror, as it were.

Carry on, as you were.
Or walk this way, a while,
mind the limp. I'll set the pace.
It ain't a race, y'lil'squirt.

Wait'll y'see.

Waiting is time's only chore this close to shore.

What manner of men are we, who could be our enemy?
What name makes me your enemy?

What peace can you imagine when no words carry hate?
Can you imagine evil peace? Cromwell n'em said they could make peace wit' war.
They lied. Their lies remain lies, evil knowns
are good to know, on the whole.

Knowing makes believing count for more than idle oaths of loyalty to memes mad from the first of forever to now.

now. stop. This is the bottom. I know the way from here.
Do you?
You can say so, but you never know,
if you never make the climb.

And that can take forever, I've been told.
Fun, for fun. Bees in bonnets and such archaic antics, no pun un intended.
The N word test. I chickened out, but under protest. If I say/said a word to hurt a childlike mind, or an innocent ear, I am not being kind. And the black magi said He could care less, he's moving back to Kingston.
Shin Aug 2018
Let's dance to the boogie in the room.
Hearts pound, energy abound, the hips sway.
Cyclical time baby caught in the flume.
Fall into me sweetheart, your soul's astray.

Arm spread eagles escape into the sound.
Could we maybe find peace in this madness?
Further gone, blue, red, green, and white abound.
EVERYBODY! This love we must address.

One more hit, swig, swag, tab, maybe a dab
and we're off on the moon again singin.
Lay all your innocent out on the slab
cuz darlin o girl their love'll be ringin.
A glance into how I feel when I'm feelin a little high and just wanna dance
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
when I close my eyes...
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
as I'm starin' into
the brightness of a new day...
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
as I'm gazin' into
the darkness of a new night...
I've been askin' myself why-
still I'm not sure if
I'm gettin' any answers!
We've only met once-
face to face, several months ago.
But, since then, we've spent
many hours a night;
talkin' into the early mornin';
buildin' our friendship!
As I'm listenin' to your voice
while we are talkin'
or you are singin' to me-
I'm realizin' its effectin' me
in different ways-
it soothes and calms me;
yet, energizes and awakens me!
When we can't talk-
I feel this loneliness
that I can't explain-
and there's so much I'm wantin' to say!
Then knowin' when we can again-
I feel this anxiousness,
almost over-takin' me!
And an odd-sense of happiness
practically consumes me!
Which is confusin' me...
Cause I'm not sure of what I'm feelin'
or if I'm feelin' more than what
I'm admittin' to myself...
But I'm seekin' answers-
I'm wonderin' over and over again,
if I'm tryin' to deny somethin'
that I shouldn't be...
And if you are maybe doin' the same...
I think I'm feelin' more here happenin'
than just friendship;
as if we've got this connection,
somewhere along the way!
Is there somethin' more
than what we yet to admit or know...
All I know, as of yet-
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
when I close my eyes...

2008


COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
"Why, you know's a spoken spell, a prayer for reason",
The magician said,

"I wanna think God's thoughts", and Mr. Newton, Issac said,
"After him". I stood the queue, knowing why, I kept silent.

Fundamental heretic is what I am.
Jesus was such a heretic. Ask any Pharisee.

Evaluation and appraisal, worship and praise,
who told you to do that? A shepherd kid?

A lonely boy under the stars in a peaceful valley,
beside still waters. Like Bob Dylan at twelve. Singin' along.

Worthy, so worthy, sang the boy, never knowing the role of
y after worth in setting the appraising price or prize

What's it worth to know death has no sting? A song?
Then sing, soft, don't wake the dead.
Snap. Why?
Ken Pepiton Feb 26
Thoughts we think we have for no reason

we think poor, we think as a slave thinks,
we think like a sharecropper.

Reaping what our children selves sowed
so others may eat it.

We forged the chain that chains the wolf,
never fear,
vengenance has been tamed since
shame was shown to be
avoidable, flushable

biodegradably wiped clean.
Beans and corn remind you

Chew your food. You can choke.
You can die swallowing an untold lie whole.
When you choke among those who wish you lived,
Heimlich points blame straight at you, you
expel the lie as if it were our creation, you're
to blame, to shame, to prove

you did not digest the story the lie intended to tell,
the lying spirit in the mouth of magi
sybils and seers and prophets and poets and such,

who forgot the origin,
the idea of binding a bubble into a being

bubblin', bubblin,
bubblin' in m' soul
m'nordic nomadic hunter soul singin' along mit

revinoor disdeemin' relations o'mine, who
all dance to
Flatt and Scruggs fiddle tunes. 't'sinthe blood,

Galacian flutes and Persian fiddles and wooden clogs,

mockasin-

soft shoe, round the... shhh listen shuffle
yah thisaway yaha thisaway hey hey this away

ever

coom buy ya'll, come by

touch, in passing, take my piece, play to win.
wink. wink.

the one-eyed white man hands you his cane, wanders away
as if he had some better place
to be.
https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton/episodes/The-Hermits-Will-or-Tools-for-the-Heirs-of-My-Kingdom-e3al29
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
Axt would I, I sed yah soyam

Signing a song played in the white noise that surrounds me

nights like these past 7043,

Who chounted en chant em, enchantemgood

So no we are at what is a befinning place.
beginning (90's too ****, U2 too Northern Euro,
Green Day, Coolio,
Noise to a message dying to be heard
welcome to another
imaginary garden in an ever expanding mind

field of unthinkable things,
back then

we have whiteout but it doesn't work here

My culture had near simultaneous eruptions of supermarkets

and Fords.

This guy, his culture had near simultaneus disruptions of progress and
interruptions of information
some os were lost in the middle synchrony
instance if I cationic plus or minus
simaltan

Oh, I get it. You, dear reader, have been
out of it.
We went public with the entire plan for public
key distribution,
through six palanced stacks of energy stores

Chakra, chi, science make ya think eh. Polarize, see

everything groovy --no
[contemprayery idle intense ify AI keep us current]

lie, good, no lie is always safe. Don't wanna stumble any souls.

I was mentioned, my being a speaker in a story, I was said
to have said something, upon a time,
on the cover of the Rolling Stone,

I witnessed a lie being told and said my ears weren't garbage cans,
like a brainwashed cult

no, **** I was a cultivated follower of a confessed
follower cultivator.

I bloom when I imagine being treated as a mushroom,
I never paid much attention,
I never felt
insane
but
I can imagine
wee whatifs crept in… aha

The Olde Deluder, Satan, Act

that, a tiny gleam, a single ATP gone ADP

but there was light. A story I lived is now being told
without me,
oy vey Jah knowaddamean.

There was a wiseman, who,
by his wis-dom saved a city, and no one knew
that same wiseman's name,

proverbs are intentional games, the rules,
hiding a thing, done by God, glory ifies him
seeking out a matter, done by a being translated king,
transmutes that seeking into honor

Honor is hard to compare to the war flavored twists,
knots and tangles where woof and warp held

long long long before war was imagined, honor was.

A medal of honor for valor, what does it mean?

Leonard Wood got one. For his part in solving
the Apache problem.
He also,

Flash I had my wires crossed, in a way, it may
enlighten.
You see, I had thought that I had read Leonard Wood,
be cause I had imagined he was in New Jersey, but that
was Lord Amherst, Jeff

He tweerted ( wrote in a letter on paper we've a fact simile):
"to try Every other method that can serve to Extirpate this Execrable Race."

From <https://www.umass.edu/legal/derrico/amherst/lord_jeff.html>

Could be the source of the whole shores of triple ease retirement lure/trap/moneymoneymoney makeit fakit

I asked once, who's to blame and whose to blame,
samesame came an answer, I sware, quick as

next, twixt being and being possible,

realize

we do change things, in time, which,

if we can agree, is limited for us,
to now, no thens behind

mere, mere, mere ifs and whens ahead

be

--so there's been music all along
life's the song

skip a decade, like skippin' a grade

grad Harvard at a prepubescent 12

If I had a Hammer time, one message

one valiant try to be will smith,

Live and Learn, old man, say the dude on the radio
in he's hammaheadphones, cain't touch

Bomb. Jesus lent me Jael's hammer,
radioman nailed it.

If I had a hammer was the prayer,

MC, he was the Godsmacked nail in the coffin

Dark inside gothish messages hurgle and gurgle
guts twisted in freak pride love hate list lust

dichotomies of choice in ever learning
good citizenship worth honor and glory

of the sort men dare to die for, facing darkness,
the NULL set ***** and ***** and *****

This ain't gravity tuggin me,
this is that monster who lives forever in top forty radio

When/then Radioman emerges, Like the Mighty Quinn from

deep beneath Gibson's darkest ever imagined ICE wall…

What's on? (ellipses, do those mean POV shift or selah?)

I forget, s still all alchemistry t'me, if allyagots ahammass,

realize, if it matters, t'me, bubble bustin' need no nail.

I gotti'd a hamma, gonna hamma in the moan

O.G., mighty man of valor, where'dyew arise from?

We, the integrated us, non autonomous, inarrogant
We were dancin' to that I'm a Loser, Baby

so why don't cha killme, knowwad i'msayin

This old man been wandern in the desert far far far
side the madding crowd
making minced
meet
broken spirit. we goin together to a re-pair place

at the center of you'n'all you know, yo bubble but

--- everlearning everclear outlawed, good lawed
--- moon shine spiritment lauded out loud
--- the world all ways works when a garden is

beyond the pale,
Irish
rye whiskey, wheat bread liqui
if I were an
old *** ninties guy drinking ***** laudnum
singin'

on the corner with the hourus girl's c

Making the Con Next Ion, watchathank,
is it The Nineties A to Z , ending wit, it’s a hard
knawks life, or

a Bohr-TED talk or
a video of Schrödinger's  
verdamte dead cat?

Or am I surrounded by so great acloud of witnesses that some times I spend

simply hummin' along, life's beat me to the ground,

which gladly,
I'm so glad, I'm glad, I'm glad which

loses its meaning if you never experienced such a fall
ending in absorption of it all.
****** Baker, slam that cymbal, CRASH1

Life, in every key, there's a clue. Some where,
there's a lock on a true thing we need

to, eventually, know all things.

Keywords lost givitawaygivitawaygit it back tenfo'

Black spirit-filled tongue talkin' grandpa friend of
Johnny Walker, Red not Black,

He challenged me ye see. I recall what was on TV.
Nixon sayin' he,
honest he,
anti-****** he,
bombin invadin he was Notacrook, the super hero
he imagined

Bio is building energy, all the time does is
test the effort.

Is life lived this way worth the effort?
if/then/else

Who chose, integrated me, all the masks and voices I have accepted as ideas that can have apiece of me.

BTW, kids, even if an angel of light asks you to take a little piece of my heart, don't

yer killin me and I know where the next story started,

you are lost without me, fretnot, I'm the way

I heard that, that's no claim I mist'tok as my response.

Deeper, are we absobbing any thing, deeper tincture
of time, t'me see

POV
SameYesTodayForever (SYTF) protocols have been in place, as far as we know,

since words made sense naturally, eons ago, at least.

If you want my future then forget my past
musing medium messages sayin

what the hell? A game, you sayin' life's a game?

Ja, was oder vice nicks versus universal soldier godlet

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

I woulda danced with wolves to have changed
one mind that followed me

beyond that point,
no return, is such a mortal POV, you see
as far as you cansee

Deep. the gem. all the meaning ever was was
in that gem.

Dare me for no reason? Is that reasonable,
ration my tears to test my mettle

I went mad in 1995, have I made that plain?
Things crumbled around me for ten years,

I was helped by hoping I knew a truth about those
manifested imaginary gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning og every mystery unknown to man

eh, say again
gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning OhGEE every mystery unknown to man

lies lies lies they all were lies lies lies lies

I told you so, and it is still sweet to say
you know

You heard it all before, greatest test story ever told.
That was no test.
this is.

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

Epic stories deserve more than mere words,
but, you know, click,

words are what we make things from.

Tell me your stories,
she woulda seemed to whisper, woulda drained me drownd me
in just if I'd love linked

to the money machine of your dreams

had I not rode the grey dog outa Nashville,
back in '82,

I'da missed seein' flyover country that feels like mine,
when I take this POV.
I wandered into a sattelite radio 90's A-Z, kinda like those histories of philosophies old people listen to when they're ******. Oh, the moonshine experiment worked, FYI
jonni inferno Nov 2018
folks  
this is the last song of the evening  
time for one last round  
so pick 'em up and  
slam 'em down...  

couples headin'  
to the dance hall floor  
some lonesome doves  
walkin' out the door  
take a look around  
into the lonely fa-ces  
broken hearts  
yearnin' for tender gra-ces  

see the hopeful eyes  
lookin' back at you  
you've seen each other  
from across the room  
if you act now  
you wont be turned awa-y  
another day  
might be too la-te  
  
oh i know  
life ain't been kind  
we've got - wounded hearts  
but there's still time  
so - here's a chance  
ya never know  
tho it's  
just a dance  
it could be more
  
so ya  
take her hand  
pull her in real close  
music playin'  
soft and slow  
you close your eyes  
as she softly si-ghs  
  
starlit shadows  
from a disco globe  
we fade to black  
on this winding road  
lost and lonely  
we pay the toll  
just one last dance  
before we go  
just one last da-nce  
before we go  
  
and these bitter days  
we watch them waste away  
into the whiskey nights and  
the smoke filled haze  
we're singin'  
Willie -n- Waylon  
pray the music keeps playin'  
as we drift away  
into this whiskey haze  
shadows of a memory  
keep draggin' ya down  
one last round  
you slam it down  
you close your eyes  
as she soflty si-ghs  
gently swayin'  
across the floor  
  
starlit shadows  
from a disco globe  
we fade to black  
on this winding road  
lost and lonely  
we pay the toll  
just one last dance  
before we go  
just one last da-nce  
before we go
For3ver Jan 4
Can you understand me now?
I didnt ever mean make your feelings bow.
I didnt ever wanna change your brow.
I didnt care to think of how you felt.
Only hit a side while your tears fell down.
Heart ache but it didnt faze me.
Only thing my brain was on was the *****.
Now i see how it affect you so intensely.
I see you with that other guy and it change me.
Make me realise the love you gave me
Make me see in ur eyes how you aint forgave me.
Make me see how the game made me...
Think in a different attitude different from the one saved me
And how much i just be wantin you right now
Think of your body on me right now
Think of the times you made go wow.
Make me wanna come over like old times
Have sleep overs, in ur bed round like nine
Make sure you quiet,  ur mama gon hear.
As we layed together
And just dreamed
Of the life that once seemed
like it was just gonna be u and me
Thinkin of the times i would walk in, see you on the couch just sleepin.
Sneakin up on you when you cookin
Give you a hug and ask if you doin fine
Youd say yes but ik it hurt
Id look at my phone searchin for dessert
You lookin at me like is this how it work
You ****** with girls while im at work
Bustin my *** to care for you
I look up and dont know what to do
I try to reassure but all you say
Is we need some space and you goin to ur mamas place
I say babe cant we work this out
You say maybe when you can be found
I try to stop you from leavin
You say let me go or ima stsrt screamin
I say babe please stay, i csnt live without you like this day by day
You give a stsre as you walk out
The room around me stsrt makin sounds
Sayin i ****** up and i feel dumfound.
It must be a fair cause im feelin clowned
My ego set in and its good riddance
Now here i am singin about it.
I just want you back but i cant have it.
Guess thats what happens when you pick the game.
Now i just here and i feel ashamed
This 40 do nothin but fuel my pain
Now i have nothin left to do but sit
And wait for my love on this crucifix.
Ken Pepiton Jan 5
Thursday, October 11, 2018
6:01 AM

I wanna think god's thoughts, and Mr. Newton, Issac said,
After him. So I joined the queue.

Fundamental heretic is what I am.
Jesus was a heretic. Ask any Pharisee.

Evaluation and appraisal, worship and praise,
who told you to do that? A shepherd kid?

A lonely boy under the stars in a peaceful valley,
beside still waters. Like, Bob Dylan at twelve. Singin' along.

Worthy, so worthy, sang the boy, never knowing the role of
y after worth in setting the appraising price or prize.

What's it worth to know death has no sting? A song?
Then sing, soft, don't wake the dead.
This reminded me of its existence as I was wathching a youtube doc, Wittgenstein: A wonderful life. I may have posted it before, but it means more now, to me.
Steve Dec 2018
Santa McClaus in his bonny red kilt
Flew round the world in a sleigh that he’d built
Distributing toys to good girls and boys
Dreeping down chimneys without making a noise.
Till he got stuck in the flue  of young Terry and Sue
Who hail from the village of Dunandhu
Sue was up late preparing a plate
Of biscuits and beer for him and the deer
When a wee cloud of soot displaced by his foot
Put a puzzled look on her face, it came from the stone fireplace
And when Sue looked up that flue
She was met with an incredible view
Santa McClaus was wearing no drawers and his kilt was up round his waist
“Ma’ boab” he says at Sue’s startled gaze
As he struggled in haste to get free, hiding his bits with his knee
But try as he might his *** was stuck tight
He was plumb up the lumb and Sue was struck dumb
Her head went into a haze, dizzy, she fell in a daze
To wake up next morning as daylight was dawning
Trying to recall what she’d seen certain it had all been a dream
Terry came down in his dressing gown
‘Did you stay up all night? Sue, are you alright?’
But Sue was gripped in a trance
Remembering McClaus with no pants
‘I must have dozed off on the floor’ she said ‘But I’m not really sure’
‘I had the wildest dream. You won’t believe what I seen’
Terry laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek
‘Merry Christmas’ he said ‘It’s been quite a week’
‘Let’s see what’s under the tree’
He bent on one knee and chose a present for Sue
‘I think this one’s for you’ he smiled
But neither of them saw a feint mark on the floor
In the shape of a foot made from fresh soot
And as Sue got on with the day that strange memory just faded away.

***************

But someplace at the convergence of times
In a magical world where everything rhymes
Mythical creatures would gather the gither tae blither
An’ speak o’ the night when auld Santi McClaus
Gave Sue sic’ a fright
Singin’ jingle bells, jingle a’ the way
Oh what fun it must hae been that night riding oan his sleigh
If Santa was Scottish...
Feathered wing
Why Do you
Sail away into the night?

'Cause you're meant to
Sail into love
Sail into heights
Sail into the ocean
Of The Breeze

Whisper like the calm chirping
Of The Birds
Off With the heads of the seas
With Poseidon of
Godly wrinkled waters
That made his gelid cheeks
Of sorrow...
Of a human disguise
So sorrowful
Unspoken
Begotten
By The din

Singin with skipping beats
Playing the same seats
He was done with rustic Lyric
With the growling guitar
"Rusty" leaning by your
Guitar for a change
CHange turning
To your soul
With the grunge
Of Nirvana
ANyone who read this I appreciate
My followers
Greatly
#Good
#With
#Poetry
#love #for #till #the #end
Original song name "The Guitar Laying, his name "Rusty""

— The End —