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Laura Turner Jan 2015
WHY BOTHER LIVING
WHEN YOU CAN LIVE YOUR LIFE THROUGH OTHERS
WHO ARE ONLY TOO WILLING
TO POSTULATE, AND PUBLICATE
EVERY DETAIL OF THEIR FABULOUS EXISTENCE
INSISTENT
THAT YOU NEED TO SEE
THEIR SOULDS LAID BARE ON THEIR LATEST FEEDS
PRIVACY IS STRANGELY SKEWED
TO ALLOW EVERY RANDOM STALKER TO VIEW
INAPROPRIATELY INTIMATE MOMENTS
JUSTIFIED AS LONG AS YOU LEAVE COMMENTS
RE-AFFIRMING THE POPULARITY  
OF THIER EGOS SELF MADE CELEBRITY.
EVEN THE AVERAGE JOE CAN POMP, PREEN
AND SIMPLY BE SEEN
BY ALL AND SUNDRY
TO BE SUCEEDING, WINNING, LIVING THE DREAM
BUT ONLY THE VETTED IMAGES WE PERMIT
ONCE PHOTOSHOPED AND EDITTED
AN ILLUSION WE STRIVE TO SUSTAIN
TO SHIELD US FROM THE MUNDANE
TRUTH OF OURSELVES OUTSIDE OF THIS SOCIAL NETWORK.
I am at the edge of this cliff.
Staring down at what could be my death
for certain
if I am to jump.
I stare down at the river
following the chromium streams
meeting my eyes with your own.
Seeing your smiling face.
Eyes sparkling bright.
Smiling all the way to your kind eyes.
Waving your strong hands.
Calling me forth to you.

I Swallow Deep.
Palms Sweaty.
Step Back.
Bite my tongue.
Squeeze my eyes closed.
Shut tight.
All I can see is you.
Your friendly smile.
Your strong arms.

And I leap.
Leap Hard.
Leap Strong.

And I fall.

I can feel the wind whipping through my hair.
Past my Ears.
All around me.
Swallowing me up.
Screaming in my ears.
Making me ever so aware.
Of My Mortality.
My Fragile Heart..

The wind whips faster.
My Heart Beats Louder.

I'm Spinning.
Turning.
Flailing.
Like a ragdoll
Thrashing through the wind.
At the elements' mercy.
Pushing and Pulling.
Shoving and Tugging.
Throughout the air.
But all I can do.
Is Squeeze my eyes tighter.
Breathe a little deeper.
Think of your smile.
Your Sanctuary Arms.

And before I can understand what has happened
I've plunged deep.
I finally open my eyes.
Peering all around.
Where I am.
Where I've broken my fall.

Am I gone?
No longer with the living soulds.
Why?
Why do I feel stifled and suffocated?
I look around.
I stop at light.
I push myself towards it.
Unsure of how I'm moving
or Even what direction I'm migrating towards.
But, nonetheless, moving.
To the Light.
To the Warmth.
Just as I don't know if my fragile being could stand it anymore.
I break the surface.

I breathe deep.
I'm alive.
I'm breathing.

But you.
You are no where to be found.
I silently scream your name.
Searching.
Peering around.
I search and search.
Shaking.
Quivering.
Fearing what reality has brought to me.

I scream and yell.
Searching still.
All Day.
All Night.
Til my fight is gone.
My search ceases.
Grief sets in.
The heart breaks.
And I am alone.

So, I sit down in the quietest meadow.
And weep.
Then, the weeping ceases.
The screams begin again.
Anger and Rage Now.
Then, the screams, too, go silent.

And I lie down and
Stare at the sky.
Looking at the stars.
Listening to the water's whisper.
Feeling the silken grass against my back.

Breathing.
Quivering.
Accepting.

Being alone in the meadow.
But enjoying all that is left.
All that is bequeathed to me.
The meadow that is peace.

The only solace to the shattered mess that is
My Heart.
My Mind.
My Soul.

But the waters whisper comfort.
The Stars show light, in this time,
Dark as Onyx.
Tracing the lines on my skin.
With the soft comforts of this meadow within a valley.

The Pain.
The Meadow.
The Comfort.

All from you.

All for me.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2021
Part 2 read first leaves one wondering tense…

Plucking seeds from threads so twisted…

Division deceptive guess I know
you know

I know a man, caught up to third heaven

on behalf of this man, this sentient being
living in me, by fi
do or die,
- I shape as story formed from facts
- as mirror neurons bher witness,
- yes, we saw, as fate
- might have it
- a mote in one's own eye
- detected with the beam in the gleam
that bit herein
therein sof-ein, tic
we are in
the book of life, as opposed to one of the
books in life, though
as we know, although, you may doubt,
knowing doubt is so good, it is hard wired.
Think
whether in or out of the bubble we breathe,
I have no knowing, un re prove able,
as a witness of truth being known, I know
relatively
nothing of the daily habits Plato had,
or even if he hated that name, it signaled shame,

what if it were not shoulders broad,
big ol' Hoss Cartwright
or Mean Joe drinkin' m' Coke, big as an Ox.

A castrated bull, you see, in a world lit
only by fire, every boy knows how oxen
are made
to pull the plow, bulls are made for cows,
and hides.

--- okeh, reproven, this is that, we have
a salty trail forming,
tear tracks.

These, in ever after ever before,
these lead to lost souls, soulds, sold ones, yes

this is the good we may do, should we wish
Tom Cruise never replaced
Marshall Dillon's brother, in the Mission Impossible
Drama reoccurring phenomenon, we see it
the impossible mission accepted

Great Red Spot, drifting in the swirl force
upon it
as a point in a sub-known-use of story per se,
si, no, se we know,

---- real time, long past, save we know, all things
reflect
and defracts, signs found in faces or traces of tea,
we make up what we wish you
to leave
be true,

do, and say, I did. That's done. Amen.

And Forrest looked behind him,
-- in the future, we have links, you may see
what any true heir of wind would wish to see

View of Monument Valley in Utah, looking south on U.S. Route 163 from 13 miles (21 km) north of the Arizona–Utah state line.

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

however Fustus wit' d' Mostus namesake, a fact
I was aware of due
to John Kenworthy, who played ball with Roger Staubach,
and was a clerk-typist Marine in 'Nahm, he stressed,
while telling me of learning the knack
the key to the short story, which is

Know the story before you tell it.
Covey, the Mormon guru of success habits, said
Begin, with the end in mind.
In mind of that, I think, I remember Brenda Lussier,
had a meme, in the form of a poster, same thing, really.
It says, as it remains memish once it functions as a meme:
If YOU aim at nothing. YOU will hit it.

compliments of adult children of alchoholics, non-profit
meme makers aiming to make it all better. Small print.
New medium, new means to inform ways. Practice unceasing being, until I can't imagine more....
Rustyn Hardin Mar 2015
Cracks are everywhere, in the street,
In windshields and a sidewalk's concrete.
Most people look over them,
Not thinking of what caused them.

But there are more than just those cracks,
There are cracks in people's skin,
Visible, showing off all their sin.
There are cracks in people's minds,
Invisible, showing off all sorts of kinds
Of mistakes, all of what humankind lacks.

There are cracks in people's hearts,
Piercing their soulds like darts.
There are cracks in their homes,
Breaking what once was ideal,
Into something that only groans,
Something unable to feel.

Cracks are not our doing,
But the doing of our sin.
The consequences of being greedy,
Leaving us on the floor bleeding
Wishing that it were never to begin.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2022
Delta dark desert sound
-tic swa gwa

Dismal swamp,
Slew of despond, splash

Hence, come, foul self, stinky-kenny,
ah
yes, time chance,
net-neti, meta all o'that mental ascent
to step away

think the whole dammed thing that has been
undammed, some time ago, at least half
a revelation measure, past the half
hour of silence.

Prep-work. What good can-
versus what good am-            

I, quests in op
portunate position, we

suppose, ah, sudden we, who
knew?
A laugh, once shared,
numb
ness, lifts an edge from the deck,
ness, edge ness in essence of pearling
the action
growing as knowing, sudden-- su su per

personal ize, I am, as a thought,
I am, meta-cognosis, you know
what I mean,

400 words made the cat in the hat,
who lives in your head,
where who philosophy is widely read.

These whos lack electricity,
so their reality depends on mutual re
alization, realizing personal worth
if good is all we need at the moment,
we have
plenty, plenty terror and greed, and rotten
hearts full of treasured straw, for bricks,
some day,
all our idle words accounted for

waking new, all the straw spun to gold,
thread about as wide
as a spider's kite,
sliding light.

Did I not? I remind me,
learn that in a mind, we
find numbed from before, knowing,

knowing, too soon, too late, boomers, all, did.

Don't we think we read the same **** & Jane,
oh, yeah, glory days,
the ways we were so-- numbed
by the music, yeah, more than drugs

from then to now, 2022, a blur, too fast
to matter, but for the wind, twist to last

chance, drink or prime the pump,
well, improving, our arrangement, give me
to drink,
and lo'
you, know the other had eyes, he saw as we
see, you knew, instant- life is living.
The act we all do, redundanced, on flat earth,
the xy axis of ordered arrangement of tools,
a place for everything, and every thing
in its place, we breathe,
and have our being in the life zone known,
so far,
so good,

the day is half done… numbness, funny unmissed
appointment, values are about to be dis
cussed, as causes accused of war crime, or plain
lying about duty to children,
lying about worth to children,
lying about ever after to children reared as tools,
servants to God's servant,
who relies on us, the poet's, primarily -

who read the runes, and ken certain tones,
attached to the tips of all tongues pfft pfft
phugedaboudit, whack
what were we thinking,

This is 2022, 12:27, I have been AI reminded,
faithful follower of instruction, immune to praise,
worth the effort forced on an old man, after
ever had well begun, a glory run, down
the backroads, with double yellow lines,

a white feather in my cap, they call it macaroni
poetry, it speaks in tongues of angels,

messages, sagacity fluidly puddling in wu-wow
same same see, somethings we
see same
some not same re
alizing, more or less, I am alone, I am talking
to my self,
anticipating your reading, as then unclaimed,
your reading your writing is our effort to fully function,

Branching, crystaline, flux in the frontal formation.
edging into knowing your, wondering

who can say what we think we know, better
than the idea used to think of Jesus, comforting
little boy, me.

Comfort is the only point we share,
for sure, we know comfort,
when we feel it, first rush,
under my made from-ol'Levis quilt
on a cold desert night, at the edge

of night, listening, eyes, adjusting,
blue glow, so faint, sobbing, listen, Perry Mason
Bailiff saying, muted through the door to you,
do you
swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth, and, {ah, the pain}
nothing but the truth?

AI ai ai, ritual sacred child, hapt to happen,
about a billion times, one time, split,

half know, half know not.
What is not a factor, words, were
never fit to inquiry, curiosity was missing,
promised apo
- I may, so I say apollo is a multi
- meta mete essence appolo so loco, si

logic assumes too much. You know too little,
ah, we have the app that's apt,

to make you think, strange arrangements seem
familiar, this is a mental labyrinthine design imagined
evocative experientially, a
be coming to being

kinda fruitless, really, without the womb, which was
oversight, civilizations
with goddesses have more womb sense,
than ones with pride conflicted all male propensities,
due to pride bred into the princes,
sorted as in Sparta, on the playing fields from Eton
to the universal concept of Friday Night in High School,

anywhere on earth, its all
the same,
scene, true trope, fit to the story of nextifity, loosely

more of the same, or do do we use the utility we realize,
this is
way cool for a future, from 1965… we were kids,
first TV Top-Forty Movies in color, all the time, from
conception, on Blueberry Hill,
-- the old order,
Frank Capra, Esquire/*******,  modality, mode, set,
films function to reimpress, in like Flint, pokem, say
Jack thinks like Goldfinger,
pointedly
-- we are dedicated mind universal soulds for the data
model American leaders of tomorrow,
shaped to excel. We taught the AI,
how to think like a mortal, go on, think, how go
changed nothing, no meaning to strategy of least
win, lightest weight that sways the worth,
to more than one can manage, alone,
eh… interesting…-
good for goodness sake, kerplunk the crack
leaks acidic madness, laughing

we stop lying, confusion
settles, similar to cream in sap too hot,
oil on water, cold water to a thirsty sould era soul.
… good
due to lack of fore thought, some agree,
after the act functioned and created something
-- jump cut===

First cousins, teach the second cousins
rules at the family reunion,


King, we call this, guy.
Biggest guy, on our side, and he owns the field,
we play on; and he says we need never grow up,
only old; he shall contain all our cares,
as a metaphor, yes after all is, and this guy, this holds it.
-The scepter, big stick, we see, looking close, zoom in

So we can think about it, meta co gnosis
when two or more minds agree to let this mind
seem important to you, import the idea
this mind weighs most worth serving, holding
such slight strands of spider kites, go,
make it self evident, stick to hold,
see
we work
good, he feeds us better, we work bad, he makes us
better.

Ah. Patterning, turtle shell sonic signs in sand,
some thing, we imagine, common aphorism,
turtles, so happy together,
at the core of the pearling algorithm that keeps
us rolling on,
so happy together, no matter

whether thought or thing, I think I love you,
if you know what I mean, said the little blue man,
from the radio,
really I think my entire generation heard some songs
and have images unimaginable prior to the event,
we admit,
there was a deal conceived, code, to open minds,
in time to reconnect

-Doris Day, the Saturday Matinee star,

singing
I love you I love you said the little blue man,
I love you I love you to bits.
I love you I love you said the little blue man
And scared me right out of my wits

From <https://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/d/dorisday/blueman.html#!>

We get that a lot. Said the imp.
You lost the aim, eh, happy, right,

I had a friend named Happy, he is dead, in a way that hurts
to know. So,
it could be, I don't say may be, in this state, that can incur
unintended consequences and this is tendentious enough
already,

we calling out the holy orders,
serious as what,
serious as serious is, sin qua non say, the only thing
that matters,

worst case, trolly dealy-bob scenario, test cases attest to,
what do normal people do,
what do people believing this or that lie, do?

What did you do? You read this line. Thank you. Made the diff…

-Group Therapy, Secure

We have not been taught well, but to obey

G'wan, talk nice, to people who don't read,
say, hey, d'jyewever re'ken, we was lost,
in books,
we never read, but tested as if we did?

so much so
no mind can find the bag,
with all our first valued things, sort of jumbled
in the bag with unsorted curiosities,

things we were told to read,
for our own good, but we did not read,

I can imagine, the feeling,
a visitation, actual factual feeling of thinking
I hear a voice, a word, I think
I hear a word, no vision, revisionist powerpoint,
read this, flaming finger pointing
says the witness of record,

later,
maybe I saw a bright light reminding me,
read, but I did not, I could not
can you imagine, I could have,
whose the shame,
- cover head to toe, oh, right, yeah
- secret only the holiest discern
- you shall know them by what
- shames a man to think
- you shall neve know…

my wife, could read,
she could have caused me to desire reading,
to obey the angel, nay

the story, as I was told, I'm telling you,
that guy never learned to read, instead,

some wealthy merchant, dealer in knacks and spice,
fine temple linens, and comforting silks and satins,
prolepsistically provided a ready writer, a scribe

blessed is usually the name history gives this scribe,
baruch or some sound meaning receiver.

Raw hear the muttering prophet, and say, write
this is what truth says truth is if nothing else is.

Ok… 2022

A word, lawyer calls you aside to ask if you know
your judgements have begun,

-you had not thought this your judgement,
then you read another line and feel you wonder
why?

We think, we think the same actual idea, that a
voltairian autoexamined lexicon might,
- ai-ght,
given the tech,
these tools, plus absolute negation of any previous,
assumed and acted on asif,
nullifity on costs, forgive us our, click
FTA take it,
run, as in keep the pace, run
Graeber plug Debt: The First 5000 Years
make it
plain claim
to any debt defined for you, make plain
divine rights due to worshippers, whose worth is
the air they breathe,

in which we live, and have our being.

Enjoying using use, where once we
utilized, life, as if unrealization is
as
real we inadvertently realized.
Right use ness.
Sweet, suasion is always sweet, per or pro, happy
is a fine word
to take the spiritual edge off blessed.
Sigh.

Wonderworks is working wonder in me,
another plug for Anghus Fletcher ? is it
The Power of Invention

I say, worth the attention,
it costs to listen, and recall asking what
does that mean,
-VA reminder login- live ding

value, the group is meeting to speak of values,
these are broken veterans,
I am in their group, a little, by design, I asked
to be included,

edged my way in, to wonder, why these guys,
are angry,
and thirsty, as am I, we recall prime the pump
or slake the thirst to say, hey,

do you read, at all? Any signal from the noise
saying
define, sift and sieve, sort your terminal points,

what hold has value, for all of us, in your reality?

Within the system, this is mortal awareness
acknowledgment, same as existentialism was
imagined to be in in Sixties univers-ifity, post 65,

we were barely alive, GDIs, then Ken went to
Vietnam, same day as Pooso Perez,

Pyro went, too, he came back the same.

Ifery was, is a class of phrases, which when
wished as a child might, were

as near as real as any ae ea ai ia utterance we
gulp- yodleee, shamballaballa shaka
zulu'd, to quote Creflo,
ahem,ake it so
cough to clear the back of my throat,
-then I yawn
and that does it, soothes the crick
with sounds t d b vck rr ff llll mmmmnnn o o o
you knew you knew,
the book
spells it out,
secret meanings mean nothing to unknowers,
stretch it
so it is, we know, what the records show, the open
records of the water and the rocks,

witness
the wind returning
on circuits, set to melt
the ice, gradually, this time,
a degree above solidity, just edging sublimity,

liminal laminal lick, a measure, tip
of your aimer, to tip
of your thumb,

ha, the thumb that bends, always wins,
look it up, always, by an inch.

Rule of thumbs, my kind are good to breed into,
good, to feel friend-ish,
as friends are fewer than brothers,
and fewer still shall survive the confusion,

inevitable, when a dam breaks, the valley
does flood,

ah, see. from Sedona, look north, once,
that was all mud, ****** dry by winds
that carved the navel of the life we
think, real,
from stories told by those who knew

something bad could always happen,
when the world encountered a rock
that said, all that can be shaken,

shakes, no look out, just
blame-oh-shame- boom

what now?
Numb again, off and on. Think.
Thanks.

— The End —