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when I am writing I want to tell a story. sometimes thoses stories are not what the mind wants to read. but I want the heart to be forced to feel.
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paramed­ic 1: "young girl age 17, fought out to be, way more then she was meant to be"
  silence fills the ambulance
paramedic 2: "has a few open wounds around the eyes, mouth and even missing a tooth"
  the girl moves her finger
paramedic 1: "it's a sign"
paramedic 2: "yeah she's breathing but that doesn't mean she's alive, you can tell by her eyes. she has lost her sparkel".
paramedic 1: "she must have been here before cause she's fighting, even when she's already gone....she's still trying".
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Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
Missed perception,
missed conception,
missed implication,

fists exist in the womb,
we see the mechanical means to hold

that wind.
Aha, you see, my role depends, hangs
from you,
a drip of sense, per haps the stuff
called gnosisnot…

Aitia, as a word, or a line
Aitia, assumes you see the tia-

Matters not, a disconnected god idea
Tia mat, aitia, shush a by, hush at best
- blow the man down
beastly idea, I owe you, payback
for the lies I told as knowns you knew…

THINGS, substantial things,
things of substance, faith , hope, agape
ape, naked
theories of time and chance and measure-
oh sure,
any line can make a reason, hooks you see,
infer reference to reasons, to fold
as indicated
along the dotted line.
-----------------

Friction is resistance, feel, the urge
to not let go,

at the edge of understanding as standing
under pouring rain, rain we all must use,

we are forms for water, once rain, many times,
to imagine with,
as one think links another, and sense of tow,
pulling
dragging, friction
from fictional characters, abstractions,
ones of one of thoses,
wit-minds they own,
living as aimed,
from most recent reset, empirical
lesson learned life. Per-ifery vision,
pulls the eye to see a certainly meaningless bird.

Pauselah and all, meaning being nothing alone.
-------------------------

Dune, dam the sand, didn't we--
the powers that be pushing cinema,

emotion enhanced shared experience
with strangers, in the dark, attention
focus, extend
to Netflix, and ever after, not the sameness/
- relatively tiny frames of focus,
- re imagine Monument Valley on a tablet.
The show-business intention was artful,
expose the world to panoramic vision,
from Universal Studios, et cetera,

and Radio Knock Outs, every body re-
cognates, co-gnosis, lock, looking
out, from Kansas City, or Kiev
- there is no time like the present
- we developed in, to occupy
- busy as a we/
- this is surreal, so clear and sharp
(rest perspective to default} - that should say
RESET
In the story we lived in, in the Bible,
fully functional for cultural via-ducting
truth, and nothing but the truth, so
line upon line
help me, God. I heard it's said the riches
of the wicked are laid up for the just,
so…
just, child lesson, see so, as a child,
- But Job answered and said,
Oh that my grief were throughly weighed,
and my calamity laid in the balances together!

For now it would be heavier
than the sand of the sea:
therefore my words are swallowed up.

yes, child,
imagine all the sand on all the shores.

As seen on TV, by nearly all the eight billion,
needed to make up our next cosmic byte…

If we get back
to aitia, we can ask for judgement…

come,
let us reason
together, through all cutting off of fluency,

we advance a means, and idly add a concept,
ways, as if we are the ways
and means committee,
co meaning like a way one hand may
wash the other, as
co-operation, brain and extentions,
-ygnowaddameans, aug-mental
tension,
cur- ma'dam cure eeeeeeeeeee
easy ease, re loose the captives,
let the o-pressed go free….

loose the fist locked and cocked, wave…

Think along the lines in times, whenever,
just now,
you watch raindrops wind a way to an edge
& plop, sound magnified
as in a bull-barn, plop… what scale are we?
-present tense
very insignificant… considering ants as

Ant-man, mirror neuronal echoes,
how will those effect my grand children.

RIP Stan Lee, you really tweakt my head.

-- this can't be default, we can't hold the idea…

The fullness of the godhead, ******, right.

That is expansive. Believe me, we survive.
While watching some you tube intellectuals ply their craft, I fell into a
we wondering, once again, if wedoms to share minds held in memory of times, do expand to fill the bubble of all any one of us may use to hold
- one good reason.
Ember Evanescent Oct 2014
I'm THAT person.
You know the one.
The one you want to impale with a blunt object.
You will be texting them and you will disagree on something.
So they will tell you why they are right
And you will send them all these brilliant arguments about why you are right
And they will respond...
By correcting your grammar.
Yes, THAT right there, is ME.
Is it REALLY that hard though?
There is:
There, their, and they're.
Your, yore, and you're.
My friends and I.
NOT my friends and me.
If you're going to upset me, please,
Just kick me in the head or slam a hammer into my face but PLEASE do not say oxes. It's OXEN!.
And don't even get me started on it's and its.
When you mess that up... just ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
It hurts me! Really!  Agonizing torture!  
One day I'm going to snap and vandalize a billboard.
When I get arrested for that, the sad part will be that
It will be because I was correcting the "Got Milk?" Ad.
Got milk.
Got. Milk.
I'm sorry, GOT milk?!!
Did you mean do you HAVE any milk?!!
But police don't feel that improper grammar is a good  excuse for the defacing of property.
Yes, yes, yes I KNOW I'm a grammar ****
But do you know what? I wouldn't have to be one if people would quit MURDERING the English language!!
So please, before I spontaneously combust.
Get. It. Right.

Repost if yous Is one of thoses persons whose bothereded bye theses stuffs and badder grammar makeses yous madder then any others peopleses on earth.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my work and really anything else you have to say!
Repost if yous Is one of thoses persons whose bothereded bye theses stuffs and badder grammar makeses yous madder then any others peopleses on earth.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my work and really anything else you have to say!
Krison Jul 2018
I am the black and white.
All the violence that exists.
The fight in you, or flight of them.

The heat that blood implied.

So never did I think my hate,
would fashion itself well.
Shake me with my soul to slip,
to loose let claret drip.

That kept within a box,
with transparent chains.
Fixed to glassy walls,
hitched with failing reins.

Is my own eye through wich I see
rebirth upon repass.

For this anger does ablige.
This tunnel of no light.
With not a chance i find thee love
As darkness does amass

For pity has not voice in me.
Quarrel or appall.
The child has now gone away,
So up and down i fall.


For If I choose want of greed
The better unto me.
And time much better spent
With all such reapings heed.

So is it then a soul undone?
Most do find it bent.

"my own will'', my choosing time!
With furies made to vent.


thoses yearning  hearts will never do.

They will often sink.

Slink away with time,
And dance to there own tune.

"So Would I then find thee well"?
After this our play.
Wish thee hell and hope again
We meet another day

so to then, you never find
a broken  warreng heart
Will  i find, ii put my hate
Black as coal and unforgiving,
Indistructable.

The thought of you,
The good with flaw,

The me who cannot stay.

Is not the man I wish to be,
And ever cast away.
WendyStarry Eyes May 2016
Worries in life
★Are just a bad dream★
When they begin to occur
Pinch yourself awake so
You float into the
Realization that things just
Aren't as bad as the seem

Let your brain realize
○ºEach morning brings forthº○
A new sunrise
Thoses worries you carried
In the past were gracefully conquered
They had no purpose
They did not last

Today step forth
++Knowing you are alive++
Be thankful for this day
Live life to the fullest
Do your best to strive

Glowing with a smile is
:-D Guaranteed to be :-D
Less stressful than worries
in life so realize
Each vibrant moment
Be happy to be
ALIVE**
♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡
:-D
Kelsie Gibson Aug 2012
Open* your eyes
      To the beauty around you
Open your mind
      To the wondes of life
Open youe heart
      To thoses who love you
And always
      
*BE YOUR SELF
kate mckay Jan 2015
you held me back with thoses think , nasty ,hurtful chains
I conserved my strength
I brock the chain you held me by
im free of you
Yael Zivan Nov 2014
The lights that were infinite,
dance across time and space, but they didn't also.
because when all you are is unconscious consciousness. Matter without form. Energy without inertia, time and space are not things that you can comprehend so you just are, and then you decided that you were apart from other things and so bodies happened, and well... here we all are...


And now a different body is in her freshman year of high school . She is not unlike the many other bodies that attend high school or have attended high school since high school existed so we shall not compare her to you or I or anyone else. Or romanticize her inner turmoil so that she is special and heroic. She is human. But we will feel what she feels. Because though it seems now she is separate, she is merely the pinky on the universe of unity and the strand of hair on the giant goddess that is all of existence. But I digress...

These souls have bodies now. And they line the halls like ghosts in purgatory. Some lucky ones have adorned themselves in precious things, and walk with bold and bouncing steps. Most of them however let their necks drop, their shoulders hunch, they drag their feet toward the next place to sit and let time die for an hour. Eyes dart nervously or stare off into distances that from the faces expression of mild distain is a distance of people that are neither interesting or pleasant.

And our little friend is lost. Lost in the trappings of an unnatural place. The need to be excepted, the fear of being rejected.
The pain of being in a place that doesn't value your gifts, but trains you to adapt your own thinking to please someone who doesn't care.

Sometimes our little friend is kind, and sometimes she is cruel. But she doesn't know what she wants. She knows that people send her videos on her phone saying she is ugly and taunt her even though they used to be friends. She talks about the friends she has behind their backs. They are boring she says.

The never have anything to say.

We are all thoses pieces of pain. Every decision is watermarked.

Balast and bait.

For every painful moment we nurse well into our 40's,
we cut a thousand bitter words into another.

Our quiet thoughts breed hate and envy.

Our callus hearts beat with the blood of our ancestors.

My ancestors are the oppressors and the oppressed.

Haunted chased Jews of Europe,
Haunting hunting Afrikaaners,
after black blood.

How do we grow, will it make a difference?

Of course it will.

Pull open the blinds and let in the light.

Smash down the doors, rip holes through the roof.

Shut off the grid and see the stars reflect in every surface...

Or just forget that you are apart from anything else,
take in the darkness, and the lights that were infinite.
Liz Arnold May 2017
All theses thoughts in my head,theses racing thoughts that wont give me a min of peace.
The voices always telling me im worthless,ugly,trash,a lying ***** that'll never amount to anything or every have anything out of life if i.
Thoses same voices telling me im better off dead everyone would be better if i wasnt in existence anymore,then i look at my family and wish every day to be normal for them.
Normal is all ive wanted my whole life instead of crazy **** going on and constantly around me that makes me look bad and that im ******* every one in the world.

Is it really that hard for him to love me and want me for the rest of ourlives.
Will he every forgive me for the five mistakes i made when we were first brought together and that i hid it from him cause i feared losing my eternal love im sorry mylove for lying so long but even now i show you proof and tell you exactly whats on my mind and never lie to you again.
How can something that was once there, suddenly disappear in the land of forgotten things?  Can you ever get back from this land, or is the journey a one way ticket into oblivion? When you are lost, do you disappear, or do you hang on? Do you exist, can you exist in a world that does not remember you? In a world where no one, nothing looks out for you? Are you still human if no one cares? Or do you become this memory wandering in the path of memories, sometimes thought about but never wished back?

Is it the reason why people **** themselves? Because they left the land of the living by accident, realized it all of a sudden, tried to get back there but realized no one wished them back? Maybe that's what fairies are. People who ended their lives because they were lost, and were offered the possibilities to grow wings and come back to grant wished to those who were getting so lost, the only resort was to wish upon a star to help them be found? Maybe, when you are truly lost, you cn never be found again. Maybe, if you get lost, no matter how many times you **** yourself to be found again, it just ends up killing you anyway. Mayeb there is no escape.
Getting lost must be awful. But getting lost and never finding your way back… that… It knows no pain. You belong in a pit of depthless sorrow and missing objects no one ever bothered to claim. And even as you disappear, you realize it may be the last time you ever see the light.
Being found, though? I wish I knew that feelings. But I can only imagine. The explosion of your heart as it breaks only to build itself up again. The tights chest suddenly relieved from all the pain. And the eyes of the person who found you. Thoses stay forever engraved in your mind, their name on your lips and their soul on your heart.
DC raw love Jan 2015
My eye's are fuzzy
I feel cold and gray

These feelings I get
Make me sick

These feelings
That I love you

They hurt once and awhile

They bring me self pity
Feelings I don't like

That minute has passed
I'll shake my head

So I don't wish you for dead
I start to write

About my terrible past
About the life we had

Thoses days are now over
Why don't they leave my head
Cedric McClester Aug 2018
By: Cedric McClester

It was an undocumented immigrant,
There’s no doubt,
Who killed that missing girl
On her running route.
Makes you wanna holler,
Makes you wanna shout!
We gotta throw
Thoses brown skin ******* out!

It’s a **** shame,
That he chose to ****.
Those who hate immigrants,
Now always will.
For them all it does
Is add more grist to the mill
And now all those haters
Will not be still

For them it doesn’t seem
To be outta order,
To separate brown families
Who cross the border.
Place their babies in cages,
And make their time here shorter
We’re becoming
The world’s number one transporter

He’s already incorporated it,
In his speech.
It’s tailor made for the hate
He likes to teach
To the limited audience
Within his reach
Who cling to him
Like sand does to a beach








Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.
Arabella B Jun 2016
The Year has come to an end. No more time for laughter and fun for we must graduate and practice is ahead
There will be tears and maybe a laugh or two. Saying goodbye to those we once knew.
People we were friends with going to different schools. But we won't say goodbye. That would mean the end. We'll say See you later in hopes it really might come true.
There will be Yearbook signing and hugging our favorite teachers. Cleaning out our lockers laughing at the things we kept for no reason. Turning in late homeworks in hopes it's not too late.
This is the end of middle school but the beginning of a whole new life. We did the same thing for elementary and we'll do the same thing for college. Parting with thoses who helped us grow. And finding those who help us even more. Middle school was fun but I can't stay forever. It's time for me to grow my wings and Fly away into my new life.
This was a poem I whipped up.
About the end of middle school and the beginning of high school.
Kaley Kerchaert Apr 2017
She
She might be pretty
But I can tell you why
the sun is shining so bright..
Why?..

When birdies fly
The fish's swim through
To reach the sky..


She might be tall
But I am small,
And I can fit right..
into your pocket

Take me anywhere,
Whisper sweet nothing in my ear..


She might be funny
But so am I..
You just can't see it
Through thoses eyes..

Your laughter rare as hayles comet,
On a summer night..


And she will never
know you Like I do..

And she'll never be able to love you,
Through in through..

..

She might have money
But Iv have time..

And I can count on two hands
All that's mine..

..

She might be perfect
But im a go getter,

Genuine, and all the better..
My laugh is real,
My smile is crisp
And my love is Strong.,



She will never know you  
Like I do..

She will never be able to love you
Through and through..

..

Ak.
Ken Pepiton Feb 10
כֹּפֶר the price of a life, ransom {Kopher}
for a captive... long now global science of us
we, the users of knowledge, by grace.
we, the conscious...
asking who or even if,
we even imagine we know
what is being governed, now,
after history fed to the greatest generation
has proven detrimental to mental satisfaction,
after the information age unleashed all we ever knew,
at once, into the first television advised generation
Boom, watchadodame,
- why does it feel so right to break rules, reasoning
really, if we did have fore thought, as a gift,
that also held hope and all the hell's imaginable,
to which any living in a city have been exposed
using retellings of Homer et al... so who made the rules?
From point A,
something feels wrong
smart people believing war the good evil,
best defense is a good offence, a will to ****,
for duty and post humus glory, guaranteed.
----------------

How much of the lifestyle,
manifested by industrial wealth,

and war regulated trade agreements,
and a royal arrangement of ancient gens,
and primogeniture passed on in trust, true
riches never rest, history hides the old wisdom
--
scribe, find records of Haman's service to the king.

According to the laws of the Medes and Persians, also
Daniel, the name from the clock set to messiah proof,
--------------------

I laugh, inside, not O L, but
I laugh, it counts, does good, like
a medicine, heals a rift right ghine
phine fine, fine as may be, infinitely
small or large, as may be, infinitely
expressed as ever itself, ever in always,
luckyghucker
time
to think and make do
with probable
cause, slight smile,
so small that none could notice,
but the maker of the slight adjustment
from inside the face,
looking at you.

Did you feel watched?
Did you feel watched over?

Me and you, anonymous, us
time takers, wind breathers,
horizonal scanners set at right angles,
perpendicular, flat plane, smooth
to ever's inside edge, flat as a puddle.

-----------------------

Come and see, he said,
we hear, he said, the very next day,
we assume, some unnamed happening,

time and chance, place and position,
facing or looking away, per haps
as haps may,
occur in curving spacetimed minds

dragged into ever decreasing space
and ever increasing mass, until
energy loses any reason and ceases.

---------------------

A hap, a done deed, a past
intensity set to vibrate, in tune

a mileau of all we imagine known,
all the why, indeed, all the how,
all the non this thats
all the not that thiss, and thoses

hissing lizard language, legendary
tellings of sacred made firsts, first man
first wombed man, first figuring self will,
auto both knowing, first communion, join

objects to subjects, I am you and you, me,
eye to eye we see each the other, and if
you ever once saw your self in another's
pupil, reflected back from the shiny surface
of the arranging eye connector linking our mind

into init we form, initiation locking gnosis, recon
complete, proceed enfolding all we thought to ask.

If can is proven indeed, done, then
now was done in wordlessness, then,

and now we think we can know that,
we think we can predict the emptiness,

beyond all we think or ask, here we are,
carrying our sanity for peace sake, acting as
if the material tenon and taches
and
כֹּפֶר the price of a life, ransom for a captive,

knowing, from the oldest whole tales told,
by those who take pride in privileged knowing,

we wander as the learners, long, long, longing
to learn for ever, loving learning left behind
in song and dance and ritual geometry,

vectors from point to point, looking up,
noticing the motion, feeling the earth move,
watching the red wanderer sink in the west,

as we watch our world roll around as a ball
of dough rolled into a loaf, to be baked,
in a fire hot enough to seal the spirit in,

fried bread invention came after horses,
stories change as fast as reasons to believe,

just imagine, knowing of the existance
of these tools we use with out needing
years to learn to tune the ideas into words
communicating meaning sought for through

instants in prayer to the unknown, spirit form
life and the universe share, as spacetimemind.

Okeh.
We agree, we think in ways the Andrew Carnegie,
could not imagine, we have watched children
play multi player global war, in virtual reality,

we have sat in grand theatrical kivas, in cities
builded on shifting shores of pre ice age oceans,

not all that long ago, in our long now dreams,
looking through today to yesterday, holding
certain truths self evident, if, just ifery per se,

chance, indeed, pure luck, peaceable, wise
to take such a chance, otherwise, you miss

the fit, pocket, proper cache for fallen stars,
caught in literate child private interpretations,

hey, kid, what'd'ya make of that, one knot,
Phrygian Turk's head, knowledge found, held,
loops in thought that have one side,
one edge and potentially infinite width and length,

and infinite points in between all pastless,
until one manifests in common sense, as certain
aha,
gravity is to materiality as wisdom is to life.
Thought then do, wisdom indeed, grace
for grace, deep calleth unto deep,
fret naught, the curve is gentle,

we discern, we learn, war has never,
and can never, win, for one reason,

one cost of knowing the truth, and dieing,
for it, as that was the set price  כֹּפֶר nicht wahr?

One and done, live and learn, yearn to make
peace seem the easiest option to war prep economy.

Be ye warmed and filled, and find that often
enough to dare to share because, you know,
knowing hap in happiness is luck in life,
and the entire precept reception system,
is cross wired behind a chirality governing on
and off.
And when we, or any so sighted form of us,
see eye to eye, face to face, we engage circuitry,

we enable agreement, mind to mind, I see you
imagining timelessness between us, as a distance
mere words bridge with no slippery stones to step

where there
is the pedestal, the pedal to push, to open a fore
thought judgement,

a precedent, I once followed such a thread as this,
with just such a muse as this, described as clear text
derived from imaginary messages killed as carriers,

open the window atop yo' head, go up… old bald head

chrome domed ****** spy, I
never believed your cover story, so

The Metaphor, or Parable, or Symbolic Containment

Field, vast expanse of horizontal and hither and yon,
as vast as
ever, plain plane flat out out from me/you on
any of seven points, counting now a time deemed
right now
six planes slice us in communions, centered here,
and now
spinning with effectual prayers to counter balance
recognized jolts
of merest word gnosis, recoknown, recommuned,

ah, we,
yes, us, the people filling *** holes in dementiatic
wishes to be left to sort ourselves out,
if you do not mind, after the rapture,
there you are, of another mind,
entwined with winning being truth's only edge,

no thread we cannot catch breaking, and watch
as we once knew the truth never broke, we
let be a big old lie, and that old lie became the law,

and writing spoken scrambled words, became power,
as it is written, so it must be done, the spoken spell,
has been offered and recorded in the times of us,
we who read at will in any script known,
on a thrown away phone, fixed for seven dollars,
and a passing focused attention on the techne,
old idea, wisdom, principal known, fret not,
stop it
right now,
this is the way we came, we are not lost,
nor dead… this was an exciting concurrency.

Peace be left with us, let us think we all imagined so
Doing the math after quantum theory got thread bare and stringy.
No body Oct 2018
When my phone lights up I hope its you, but when I turn it on I see there isn't a message from you.
I get sad and I put it down, then I make a wish that you would call me again like old times.
But all we have our the memories that still haunt me.
When I hear your name my smile disappear and the thoughs come back.
I wish you could see me, I wish you could hear me and I wish you were mine again.
I miss you.
My phone lighs up
I don't bother to look at it.
But how would I know it was gonna be you this time.
How would of I know that you would call me this time.
How would of I known that you called to get me back.
That is what I though anyway.
You only called to tell me...to leave you alone.
That was the day I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't eat.
I couldn't stop crying.
Because you said thoses words
Those words that broke me
But still
to this day
I wait
Fot that call
just maybe, just maybe
you would
want me back
just as much as I want you back
I wait for a text or a call
But still nothing
What do you are have to say about redemption  for us
Hopeless  we were born with it as christain
But  what about thoses who  not christain and who donnot go to church  it is for all the  word redeem   to come back at again and start oveanr A dream  have everyone come to know christ our redeemer and we remebef thatchrist Jesus paid the way by redrmption of sins
No body May 2018
Grandpa you and I always did things together, now its almost time to say goodbye. Even though were far away, I still hear your voice in my ears, weird right, your alive, but I still hear your voice.
You always took me fishing, and hunting, you made me lough so much. Every hollween I came to your house and steal your candy. Every year got bettter and better. Then I moved away and when I came to Montana to see the family, I saw you and you made me smile and all the memories came back, which made me cry because..we wont be able to make more. You are now 98 or 99 now and its amazing you lived this long. Everyday I try to ask mom how your doing, But everyday I get more scared and more sad that summer might of been my last with you. I have never been more scared in my life. I wish I could be there to say goodbye. I know maybe it's not your time, but one day it will be. I hope i'm there to say goodbye. You mean the world to me. Your my bestfriend. Well in thoses years you were my only friend. I didn't like talking, but I love talking to you. You understood me when no one else did. I'm sorry i'm writing this when I could just say it. I will never forget you, my bestfrend, the one person who could make everyone lough. I miss you today, tomomow, and forever
Justin S Wampler Sep 2020
She hides her little sighs
Behind bouts of subtle laughter,
Her eyes whisper lies
Of inevitable disaster.

I mostly smile as i drive,
With thoses eyes in my mind
And wonder why fate
Has been so uncannily kind.

Fate? Or maybe a wheel
That was designed
To whip around and around,
Like a great cog of time.

I slip past a fellow
With my eyes on the lines,
Blasting across double yellow
To leave my problems behind.

The clocks are all laughing
At my desire to rewind
Because whats done is done
And she's so naturally kind.

Momma said, momma said,
It might be time to try, but
Now momma's long dead
So maybe just one more night.

Indulgence.

— The End —