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“What's for supper?” I asked my mommy who often provided food.
“Garbage! Mounds of it!” She duly replied not even remotely rude.
“Holy Moses!” I moaned havin' recently had useless surgery again.
“Shut your cake hole!” Barked she harshly like Barbie does to Ken.
“Well, your lousy food's worse than what a bad dog gets in a pen!”
“I shall **** you,” she said, “till you are rendered completely dead!”
The 9 pantry moths in the spaghetti I will ignore in order to be fed,
& the rat snake eggs, carp guts & everything Granny served to Jed.
Aa Harvey Oct 2018
A sleeping dragon


Beneath the ground there lives a beast.
For aeon’s it has lain asleep,
Upon the bones of those it defeats.
The hopeless slain in graves so deep beneath.


The firelight in only darkness.
The ghost of old, it’s only witness.
A beast so foul, so pitiless,
Has killed a thousand men in a thousand feet deep pit.


It waits in slumber, further under,
The kingdom beneath which it constantly plunders.
A fire in the sky at midnight,
Alerts the keepers of the last kings keep.
The beast has been awoken after a hundred years’ sleep
And although it cannot be seen, it screams through the air,
Breathing fear, which destroys the hope of every man,
Who still has a care.


Now none will fight or lend a hand
And all but one are stood in silence.
The king listens to the chosen, his guards his only violence,
Against a demon which strikes such fear;
It has done so for many years.


But now at last there stands the hero.
Never more will he hold a purse of zero,
For riches have been promised by the King,
To any man who may slay the thing which sleeps beneath.


The curse upon the peaceful land,
For many a moon, but now this man,
Shall lead his band of many men to slay the beast,
Or until they are deceased.
So until the beasts’ heart beats no more,
The day has come…
To victory!
Or…


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
BlueInkDitty Dec 2018
I know of love by the things I didn't do,
And I know your body by the cloth that's on you.
I know the truth and I know it my way,
So don't light my fire, it will lead you astray.

Dive in the water if it's not from my sea,
Dive in it deeper so you don't drown with me.
Dive in the water and swim in it alone,
For all the bubbles at my surface are gone.

And all the sirens sang "Amen".
And all the people sang again.

I know of love by the names on the stem,
And I know of freedom by the trees under them.
I know of truth and I believe she's strong,
So don't light my fire if you can't burn along.

Nobody stays unless they lose their mind,
After the heartquakes, what is it that I'll find ?
You can walk on my earth but walk on it alone,
For each step that you take will be crushing my bones.

It's not a fear if it can't do us harm,
We're not the victims as there's life in our arms,
It ain't a crime if there's no bleeding hand,
It's not a victory if we die at the end.

And all the lovers sang "Amen",
And all the people sang again.
leona chaput Jun 2016
No greater story, no greater message
No greater promise than the promise
We have from God
No greater power, no greater love
No one more glorious than my God
Jesus is the only one who reigns with
Power to heal and power to claim victory
For every thing we do for every day we live
No greater meaning in all do and no greater
Hope than the hope we have
When we call out to Jesus in times
Of sorrow or need
No greater message, no greater power
No one like Jesus, my awesome tower

                             BY:  Leona Chaput
Jesus
Mohd Arshad Mar 2015
Victory doesn't show weakness of the opposite team;
It shows your team spirit harmonised in the form of a rock!
Notes (optional)
The time between the phases change
easy, hard, normal, strange.

Places come and people go
and still they pay to see the show:

The fire and ice we truly know.

It's sculpted us along the way.

Yet shiftless is the stubborn change
easy, hard, normal, strange.

Years, months, weeks, days:
Raindrops in a cloudy haze

constant as a singing bell

'Ding! ****! All is well! '

But 'well' is surely not the change
easy, hard, normal, strange.

'Victory! ' The story reads
as forward on the stallion leads!

The mighty one atop the horse
is proud that he has stayed the course.

Stay the course.
Accept the change.

Easy, hard, normal, strange.
MOTV Dec 2015
You hear the voices
Whispering
Ominously
sin
Last thought before actions provoked
Lapse of judgement
No
No
No
I shall not bend the way
'the will is mine
For I stayed too long
Find me blind
Weakened by force
Grim victory of course
By me for
Freedom
Has Not made me dumb and yet
Still wounded gushing the dream
I find myself slaying the serpent
Breaking its face with my heel
Destroying the final sin
The one I shall ****.
Gods1son Nov 2018
I'm living on an island of my thoughts
The surrounding water is full of sharks
Ready and eager to attack
Threatening me that I can't make it out alive
Like, I don't have what it takes to thrive
They want me to bow or succumb to defeat
But I'll rather fight and stand on my feet
I can't be forced to give up
When I was born for the top
I will keep on moving, I'll never stop
These thoughts can't get me drowned
I was crowned to run this town
I can see the light
I won't lose sight
I will fight
With all my might
Till I reach the height
I will give my very best
I can't fail this test
I'm not bragging but I beat my chest
I will grow and multiply
I already built my nest
Just to keep this simplified
I will never stop until I testify of my victory!
Tasneem Moosa Jul 2014
What do you see when looking into the eyes of child?
Do you see their smile and think their innocence a crime?
Would you take them and burn them to satisfy your need for death?
Would you bomb them and make sure there is nothing left?
What do you gain from hurting children?
Perhaps they’re a threat and should be treated as villains?

Hatred in its purist form, barbaric and raw to the very core
When innocence is slaughtered and blatantly ignored
Both sides using dreadful tactics to win this war
When civilians are the ones suffering and all that’s left is a corpse

What drives this hatred of difference and religion
Are we not all the same and created through ambition?
A lifeless body should not bring you ease
The suffering of a nation should not appease

What the creator must think when he watches in vain  
Satan must be gloating, you've secured his domain
Rejoicing in victory when the consequence is bloodshed
Trying to justify your reasoning with destruction

The teardrops of these children, the cries and screams
They are battling demons trying to take their dreams
It breaks my heart that they must submit
Whether it be to death or a life of devastation
Trying to numb the frustration and lack of sympathy from this human nation

Hope for a better world, pray for a change
Fear for your life, find comfort with those estranged
Freedom confined, caged up like animals
This is the barbaric side of humanity, what happened to balances?

Blind to the war, deaf to the cause, silent to the destruction
the humility of humanity, the sympathy, the love is it not enough to reconstruct?
Inspired by the Palastinian and Israeli war
Gabriela Cintron Jun 2020
You forgot who you are
You forgot what sets you apart
You forgot what makes you special
You forgot what you've been through
You forgot what prepared you for now
You forgot your victory over pain
You forgot you are chosen
You forgot you are set apart

You traded it for the pain of the world
The standards of the world
The pain of the world
The darkness of the world
The vices of the world
The pleasure of the world

And it made you forget

How amazing you are
How everytime you fall you get up
How determined you are to love
How excited you are to change
How beautiful your soul is
How you exhude life
How you came to do great things
How you are set apart

                                                Remember?
Odd Odyssey Poet Apr 2024
The rustic wood exudes an oak essence,
imparting feelings reminiscent of timber
running through the depths of
a contemplative mind.

The morning wood embodies a
hardness akin to the tenacity of roots
growing defiantly out of solid mountain
rock—a force to be reckoned with.
She savors a taste that mingles with a sense
of triumph, a bittersweet victory vividly
displayed through a masked countenance.

Her prowess is demonstrated by
splitting rocks effortlessly with
the razor-sharp edges of her teeth,
wielding a tongue that doubles as a
deft weapon, teasing and tasting with
calculated precision. Each fiber of the pink
flower's stem is thoroughly imbued with flavor,
with a cascade of nectar streaming down
his throat, carrying forth every inspired
thought on a voyage of fervent creativity.

Reflecting on the past reveals remnants
of everything that has been left behind,
a realm where he fearlessly surmounts
challenges from behind the scenes.

Amidst disciplined actions, he occasionally
employs stern measures, firm and
unwavering. In his possession is a
substantial jumbo jet, soaring high into
the skies, causing her eyes to involuntarily
roll back in sheer awe, a testament to the
impressive magnitude of his influence.
Tadeu Andre Sep 2013
I'm beyond being over this.
I'm beyond the times of pushing
and pulling
and getting nowhere

I feel as if the fight has left me
You always wanted to be right.
So here's your victory

It was you who swore to raise me up
Yet at every turn
you beat me down
Down
I try to show you I'm better
Down
I slave for your praise
Down

Down
I fall for the last time...
Who rejects unwavering goodness;
Bares fang against his Benefactor?
T0 even those who reject Him He
Continues to show kindness. Will
Not the enemy be reborn to be in
Service to the One that served him
Even in his perversity that he might
Know that  is now, ever was ,and will
Be Love needing no coercion makes
All things new to sing His praise with
Gladness of heart and mind.  Let us
Not then be discouraged but continue
In the faith that the victory is ours by
The grace of Him who saves sinners;
Who by the power of Love raises the
Dead to life everlasting.  Lord  we will
Be with you in that day I know even
So Lord I say: Lord Come Quickly!
Riot Jun 2015
if you feel to lonely
let me be your friend
if you feel too closed off
let somebody in
if you feel like you’re not strong enough
get some weights and go to town
and smile at yourself
even when all you wanna do is frown

there’s power in a smile
but there’s no weakness in tears
realize that you’re small
but a giant compared to your fears
take small steps towards a mountain
then run the last lap to victory
expect more of yourself than people expect of you
you know goals better than any
Empire Jul 2019
You won two battles
And had the audacity to think you might win the war?
Ha! How terribly foolish of you, my nemesis!
I am still here.
I am still fighting.

So, onward I march
Even if all I do is breathe
I will resist
As you try to land your blows
As I hear your voice in my ear

Even when the march
Becomes a weary stagger
You will not best me
I will always get back up
When you beat me down

Some battles I will surely lose
Many already lost...
But not tonight

This victory is mine.

It's not much,
But I won.
Reminder to myself that bad nights and lost battles do not mean the war is over.
Michael Kusi Jan 2018
In the beginning,  was the Word.
The Word did battle with the dragon
The dragon was an angel.
Everything in the beginning was good,
Until iniquity was found in this angel.
Then the WAR began.
It was a fight to see
who would win,
the Word, and the dragoned angel.
God prevailed.
In heaven.
Now he had to prevail on Earth.

And as he lay dying on the cross
He heard a voice.
And he recognized that voice
It was Caiphas.
But Jesus knew the SPIRIT behind that voice.
Caiphas walked up and down
And spat out
If you are the Son of God
save yourself!
You don’t even have to save us.
Enough is enough of this nonsense.
You claimed,  to be able to save the world,
But you cannot free yourself off of two sticks?!
The Word was silent.
The one who spoke creation into existence did not speak.

And Caiphas continued.
You disgust me.
Now look,
you are calling for Elijah.
We all know His fire cannot help you this time.
What are you gonna do,
Burn yourself off of the cross?!
Just step off the cross, and the pain will be over
Your allegiance to your cause, is astounding.
Or more accurately, pathetic.
Because of it, you are now stuck between two thieves,
hanging in the boiling hot sun,
about to die.
Is this how you envisioned yourself?!
Such is the fate of fools.
The problem with dying for a cause is when the cause demands more than death.
  
Well, Jesus died.
And rose again
He was the one strong enough to lift the stone
Because the Son of God could not stay buried.
Although he left our sins buried.
He rose again.
And brought the victory from heaven, to earth, and back to heaven again.
So now we can walk in victory everywhere our feet can touch.
Cedric McClester May 2018
By: Cedric McClester

We’ve been engulfed
In a world of drama
Since Trump’s  victory
Shook Obama
Though he has the veneer
Of being the calmer
Also erudite
While Trump’s an alarmer

Now people wonder
When will it stop
Cuz Trump’s like a bull
In a china shop
Trump jumps the shark
He’s so over the top
A smooth criminal
Someone call a cop

His victory
Came as a surprise
When the numbers were in
We began to realize
What had happened
Right in front of our eyes
And ever since then
He’s told nothing but lies

As his position
Continues to harden
He’s pardoned those
Unworthy of pardon
He’d like nothing better
Than to have killed Bin Larden
But Obama did that
So look what he’s charting














Cedric McClester, Copyright  © 2018.  All rights reserved.
JL Smith Apr 2017
The race I run
Feels endless
The distance
Immeasurable
Detours denied
Mountains to climb
Persisting ahead
Hope in the line
Victory in time

© JL Smith
Sarah Apr 2016
I keep meaning to give you
all the letters that I
wrote
and to
resist
this restraint, my hand holding onto
the paper
of the words
I almost told you,
felt the need to tell you,
in the silhouette of
candle flame and
sitting alone.

I'm so courageous when I'm
by myself,
and when I know what my lungs
feel like
what my fingers feel like, pinching a
pen to tell you, wholeheartedly,
the things I
will not say

I keep meaning to give you the letters
I wrote you,
I wrote you my secret and

a secret is a loss
that feels like an
ephemeral
victory
Rich Oct 2019
You ask me if I’ve tasted defeat
no
I’ve swallowed it whole and the digestion resulted in apprehension to any path I can’t crawl my way through

It’s ironic
the brain travels three thousand miles per minute
even as the body sits as still as Ice Age mountains
so my solution is to taste victory on golden platters in a dream sequence
the pattern is seamless
I’ve learned about suffering but would never teach it
A man like me could never lead, despite the absence of light that follows

but enough about aorta chambers left hollow, tell me of your timeline
what have you tasted
what has life left in your wallet
in your bed side
in your lungs
in your goodbyes
in your smiles
tell me what you know of reality and the singularity, our humble beginnings
tell me anything to distract me from the hours, the minutes, the seconds and every inch of my taste buds.

Please.
Cedric McClester Jan 2016
By: Cedric McClester

Come with me to the circus
The head clown is center stage
His one and only purpose
Is to entertain and engage
Nothing that he says or does
Seems to insult or enrage
He’s got their rapt attention
As he pivots to assuage

What would a circus be
Without its assorted clowns
In full display to see
As the spotlight makes its rounds
Some have a lean and hungry look
Others look overfed
They’re all ready for a donnybrook
Judging by the things they’ve said

They all would like to be
Stars in their on right
But we’re gonna have to see
Who’s ready for the fight
They’re all looking to break out
On this very night
Although who ever makes it
Will find that shoe is tight

The lead clown always was
The fastest on his feet
And regardless of what he does
He will not retreat
His eye is on the prize
While he looks to defeat
All those on the rise
Cuz victory is sweet


































Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2018
.
I wanted to know the sighs
Of mercy.  On the bed she lied,
Laid bare in the shocking light
That twitches, as she rolls
I hover and cage her in question,
With moist eyes, abandoned
By loves interrogations,
I stab at the untruths and confusions.
I wanted to hear the supplicant
Murmur of indolence and shame.
With windy caresses I break
Her arms, she ropes me red
In tangled hair and I struggle
To let go.  I wanted to taste
The twin defeats of victory
And indifference, when in the light
Of darkest night there are cries of yes
And no and false accusations,
There is consuming pain and excruciating
Pleasure and as we squirm
And seethe, she teases,
Goading me and then,
I loose it.
.
leona chaput Jan 2016
With truth and with power
His glory is everywhere
Shining in brilliance above
Yet He's so very near to us
Jesus, hears us when we pray
He knows our every need
Healing our broken hearts
When crying out to our
Saviour who hears us
Coming to the foot of His throne
Laying the things that hurt us
The most
Believing that Jesus will  touch and
Restore
Broken and hurting hearts
Looking to Jesus for His loving
Touch
He hears us, with tears in His eyes
Sharing our need for mercy and
Healing
He'll save every sinner who
Calls on His name
For forgiveness and healing
He hears us, He knows and
He cares
He loves us, He surrounds us
With endless joy
He knows, Jesus knows
He has power to see victory
Everywhere
He is greater than all that we
Could ever hope to be
Jesus hears us, and He loves us,
As well
I may not always be the best choice.
I have made my share of mistakes.
I am far from being perfect but...
I have an savior willing to work with me,
I have fail him more then succeed.
I should have died yet here I stand.
I at times, wanted to give up here.
But Christ would not let me go down in defeat.
So here I stand in his approving love for he is good.
For I am nothing without him , only through him.
Do I stand in victory for he is my everything.
Out and Down

But never lost.

I stumbled and I fell but paid off the costs.

I fought the hard fight and won my battles.

Now the losers strike back in clouds of protest.

Honor guides me to safety. Never selfishness.

Tears of a clown I comically set out to hear the laughter

during hardened times.

Those who stood with me enjoy wines from earned dimes.

Cheers guide us to our comrades.

Who see the truths of liberty and justice.

Of a nation of Honor who wishes to support us.

Nations that shake our hands.

In union we fight.

Sweet victory in wars started by those who wish to destroy us.
Dedicated to the people who died and fought in the storms of the tragedy of 911.
deanena tierney May 2023
For what virtue does the mind proceed,
To urge a soul towards war?
Disarm it with a dreadful deed
And poison what is pure?
What reason ever may transpire?
What wisdom be learned here?
By turning a saint into a liar
And rational to fear?
As we know no value of a gold;
That never leaves our hand,
And only when a dream is sold,
Do we ever understand.  
As we only see one shade of white
Until another shade's beside,
And think almost nothing of the light,
Until we wish to hide.
So let the thoughtful lessons be
More knowledge for the wise,
The mind will claim its victory
As the soul meets its demise.
Max Vale Jan 2017
Here is tale from long ago,
It goes long but you wont get bored.
Where heroes slay a ferocious foe,
And this is their long lost lore...

Centuries ago when Romans ruled the land,
The barbaric Britons tried and failed.
To defend their noble land,
And so the Romans came and hailed.

However one queen would not have that,
She would cut the Romans down.
Despaired that her husband's death,
She made sure the Romans drowned.

Soon there were a ferocious battle,
The Britons fought strong and held.
They reclaimed their land and cattle,
And killed the Roman general.

Despite their victory,
Sadly it wont last long.
The Romans came and killed,
And the Britons were doomed all along.

The queen of Iceni,
Soon took her life.
The Britons remained buried her by a tree,
Next to her husband a loving wife.

So here ends my tale,
Its sad but true.
But to all Britons hail,
For they had victories too.
Cheers history.
The heat laps at her skin,
and now she can't breathe again.
Play with fire and you'll only get hurt,
but no one know she likes the burn.
Blistered flesh warps her skin,
playing as battle scars
against the war within herself.
Winning at a losing game
is no Victory.
I think I have exorcized
the demons in my closet--
I burned down the house.
I lay on my back
losing track of the time,
painting names on the ceiling with
dancing shadows cast by flames
from the fire,
tiring of this game and knowing before painting the
next name I would paint,
I switch on the light.

Time has tracked me and comes back to attack me,
and seeing me quite clearly,
time triumphs over me.
What glorious victory for the time to have picked on me and now it rains down on me, cloaking me in wrinkled skin,
how was it that time got in?.

I lay on my back losing track once again as the pain washes over me while time  stands and watches me and as the coals start to glow and burn slow,
time waits.
Fire I was born
Ashes I have risen
Victory... I shall walk
I stand before the mirror and look at my self.
He seems no different from me.
But within the reflection, not deeply therein,
Lies something I don't want to see.
I've tried to conceal it, but it can't be contained,
Or hidden behind a false smile.
No matter the effort and masks I've applied,
The sinner shines through all the while.
I've tried persuading, I have tried forcing,
And I've tried ignoring him out.
My self has evaded my every attempt,
Ahead one step every route...but one.

All of this time I've been fighting alone
When You have been here by my side.
Though I've been battling my self for so long,
Without You, the victory is not mine.
I ask You now, Lord, take my self away,
And help me to be more like You.
I cry out, oh Lord, take my self away,
Until there is only You.
This was written years ago, not only in my repentance, but in reflection on the circumstance that led me to first believe.
No longer
Will the moon
Bare my name
Only Victory.
Just put your mind to it
And believe
Never give up
Reach for it and achieve
Success is yours
Let nothing stand in your way
Rise up and earn the victory
Continue to brighten your world each day
There is a hero within
Rise up and go through the battle
Thrive to survive
So you can show your mettle
Embark on your journey
In order for you to make history
Success is yours
Reach for your victory
Ken Pepiton Mar 2024
{strange to feel so understood
strange that I am not alone}
{{https://hellopoetry.com/cielnoir/}}

Walking out of sleep, into
-- noonday sun
-- post atmospheric river
-- deep gray-purple days past
editreadyreaderprepresent-tensing

noise directed traffic, trending
psy-sci-psilliness dissing

ontological first thoughts, first
stretch, and last yawn,

seeing some connection from
former time to formations now
serving purposes proposed as ifs.

If duty calls us, and we have ears
discerning us as those called, hearers,

saying nothing, listening -
acknowledging life, itself, is not ours,
not experienced alone, ever, after we

agree to merge ourselves into me,
the leader, left-foot first, marching
ants selecting territory to sift for worth,
ax-el-
what good can I find to do, in response
to differentiation, feel the touch of other,
bump spring gentle
level speed to fills and tunnels

others, advisors, certified professional
advisors of the unfinished, unpolished

ones, you and me, creatures of literal

evanescence, perhaps never appearing,
glimpsed as in a zen riddle, popped
when a country kid asks who
tamed the bull… the ox

yes, I see, says the country kid,
I understand, you think oxen are
natural, that limits your wisdom.
-----------------
But of the tree of the knowledge
of good and evil,
thou shalt not eat of it:
for in the day that thou eatest thereof
thou shalt surely die.

Now, hear this, as a stranger in that garden.

Make up a mind that may as well imagine
having access to this single window lens,
in a fly's eye/

see me see you, sit tight. Bee, alright,
flea'ld be okeh by me, ye'll see,

what ever two or more of my kind agree, we be.
'pon acknowledging

the reality of energy, and us being, small,
upto a point.

We break the wave function and drift, pointless

reasons for the faith we take as granted, we think

we have a full portion, rationally, fair share, we think.

But few are free to find time to take words as power.

We agree we means primary person acting as one,
in the spirit form we form as we read, and write,

and hope to hold
the gentlest wind in our fists, as we expand
as breaths, and breathers, nameless alienated minds,

cohere, at once, each point possible,
once…

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


Old Jobe, and me,
we considered the works of God,
we saw all the noise and storming

contenders for worth of your loyal
adherence to a plan from a committee,

a party platform, from which leaders,
may stand and look into tomorrow's

victory over all wrong thinkers, leading
away from the best way for all of us,
we, the part-takers in policies of common
wealth taken from the losers to use

for the betterment of all mankind,
losers included, of course, abort no

unwanted child, let society eat them alive.

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

Rush to publish, shush nidicolous muse,
Peace awaits inpatient perfecting grace

- long form war, for goodness sake,
- so simple a child can participate,
- the game of life under standing
- constituted authorities established,
Under God, by God, and you
you,
good citizen had better believe we've
GOT GOD, and the entire dairy industry
on our right side, and our enemies,
on our left side, we are destined
to rule over, as gold over silver,

and plutonium ove' all.
Y'all'd know if I lied.
Some ideas are poison,
some are radioactively poisoning,

as life imitates art, foul miasmatics, sniff.

Uric acid industries, good side hustle,
set pots to **** in behind the pub,
public minds congregate to process,
fermented bread purified water,
into precursors for alchemists.

It was a profitable enterprize.
Vertical integration, however…

even then, there were regulators.

Identity, registered voter,
have you read your party's rules for us.

What must we hold true to trust
the committee of good for us reasoners?

Whereas, conjunctive fact fixer, that said,

It being the fact that; inasmuch as.
While at the same time.
While on the contrary…
------------------
Rushing to  betterment, settling
for plenty good enough, betting

on welfare shared by knowing users
of the tools we used
to build the channels of commerce
and learning used to make living easier

inventing means of exchange, symbolic
worth determinants, worth of cows
after…

blah… no mas.

---------------
measure for measure, reassure me,
nidicolous commiseration,
promi-sorry noted aliegiance
conserved determined formal
arrangement of shared woe and weal
- we authorize these changes, we think.
let us imagine, set an image of our wedom,
we… the ready readers granted all meaningful
words ever read by our massively parallel process

of gaining means to branch out and make shade.

Trees, Bees, Toads, Children

Who do I think we are,
who do you think I am,

what do we agree is true,
what do we do to prove it so?

If it is true, any it, we use it.
If it is not true, we see it so, because

we do not trust those ordained to lead.

-----------
Bring measure, come fair trade with me,
take my offering, think it linked to God,
the spirit entity historical Jesus called Father,

when he asked
forgiveness, as with all our debtors
debts, dissolved as gnosis knots
snot-nose brats can have
for a thank you, missed, to whoever
made truth the way life makes us take

at certain instances where signals merge

at a certain round-about in Montana,
we forget forgiveness generally given,
we take if as granted, as we should.

So… with no evil intended, good happens

for all who know not what
we are doing as we survive our helplessness,

and discern the order of effort and participation,

ruled by lines drawn long ago, proper and right,

my peace, my home place, my self assurance,

good by my own estimation, nothing missing,
nothing broken, all things, at scale working
together to gather the harvest, year after year.

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

Let us project an image we agree to see, knowing
we are showing what we hope to make you see,

a reason for your efforts to be joined to ours,
for your right to influence the rules we use

to keep enemies enemies and workers working…

---- Republican Evangelical shot across my bow

Quantifiable worth of one
person, weight of one person's wish
to willingly partake in persistent life,

life after all is said and done to come this far,

to have taken communication
from the Babel excuse for our misunderstanding,

to these days of Google Translate,
and Assisting Intelligence Coherency, here we be,

now, or never, as we must be to breathe
and have our being orbiting our normal ordinary star.

On the ball we all live on

some rule, some obey, say they who rule.

Those who rule themselves,
obey or stay beyond the reach
of proper societies, as such,

far from the maddened crowds,

herds of humanity harnessed
for war, for defense of local
wealth in terms of valued
conditions to which we become
accustomed, ordinarily following

the leader, as in the children's
games of emulation, marching
as to war

"With the cross of Jesus
going on before… glory, glory…"

Pied, perhaps, are we, on power.

We publically profess to all the world,
say those voting for Donald J. Trump:

We believe in American exceptionalism.

{eh, except ye believe, and say, I see, and
I agree, to this entity inviting all, except those
who are forbidden by religious ties, from knots

to hold yoke to cart or plow. Free souls,
lost in old bet you regret that nows

sould in spirit to a conception, love your enemy.

Refuse to partake in war, deserve no part
in the victor's loot.

Die in dispair, or let go, lose it all…

See the hand hold
a finger, or a toe.

Watch a babe locate a nose,
or an ear, or recognosticate

a familiar face, smiling.

We think, as common, completed
successful sprouts from random
spurts of natural gumption, urging us

reproduce, take pleasure, participate,

in using up our sources of sustained
existence atop the only gravitating thing
equipped to host us.

Chance, and timing, chaos in orderly

coordination with wind and water,
rare fair weather in early March,

beware the Ides, nay, not this year,

March, she came in like a lion,
dumping a whole winter's withheld snow,

at once, reminding many, we are very small.

Reminding few to thank foresighted good luck,

we chose to build upon actual rocks, solid
state soil free to consist as structure base,

for anything two or more of my kind, agree
to see as possible, seeing as believers do,

we must mean the rooting through the fruit

falling to become soil substance for next year.
be seed settled

Be not deceived, as a command, presupposes
reception, once,

be not deceived, many voices in the wilderness

cry this is the way to become lorded over, follow me.

Waveforms collapse, sometimes.

The principle of superposition
of waves states that
when two or more propagating waves
of the same type are incident
on the same point, the resultant amplitude
at that point is equal
to the vector sum
of the amplitudes
of the individual waves…

Slowslooo slide into home. Tune

to zero beat, co hear silence
unbelievable yet evident to any hearing it

as we exhale, in recognosis, this is that

state of mind,
combined,

we free spirit informants,

conforming ourselves to norms, imagined

before the concept of wave coherence formed
in the mind of man kind,
common access
general available knowing,

when, on earth,
as it must be in heaven, if we imagine happiness
constantly overriding common knowledge,
-stretching our hold on the joy of living
chirality insisting we not let our right hand know,
what our left is imagining in this outreaching way,

Beggar's banquets, ***'s rush, breathe

with first reason sought, breathe out,
breathe in, no idea

not a clue, nothing random, but this bubble
we have our being in,
as a liposome time bubble,
when we pause, to think about it….

--------------
In my seeding mind,
reseeding reason to rationalize,

worth and weight, in ancient terms,
57 something tons of silver's worth,

a single talent of silver, once mentioned,
for scale,

to make a warring spirit acknowledge truth,
bow and pay obeisance, kow-tow,
or bolt
upright, how now

may we intercede,
in the spirit of mere words,
redeemed to base value in moral terms deemed

ethical, under these circumstances,
we are free to think this line of thought bought
dearly with the patience taken

to make it all possible at all, what? me worry?
- you may laugh, but take no anxious thought.

We are most alien of all minds, sacred places,

signaling knowers to know, now, time is as a dream,
only if you maintain consciousness of that fact, as art.

Now, consider life a game.

Your move. My move. We agree, we become

one of these things in the form of Paul's God,
all's supreme being spirit form of Truth's Way

taken, as granted any willing to think, why not
me, the stranger in paradaise, asking whom

do we imagine wise,
as the serpent, while remaining harmless,
of no effect, ill or good, either real, or not.

At our we level, we laugh at me.
I become the first beggar in paradaise.
I think we think we know, we meet
at the mean

and we play the balancing Sisyphean
paen to Science of Light Amplification

you push my buttons, I pull your thread,

we make up a mind, to get past this.

This is Ken Pepiton, as he sat in the sun,
thinking of Van Gogh's ghucking sunhat
self portrait,

and laughing at having dropped my name,
where he left his hat.
To all the poets in bemusement.
SL Apr 26
A gift of perpetual silence,
from a deafening scornful frequency;
Eternal tranquility, we chase,
so is it considered victory?
Victorious it must feel,
for the one who departs abrupt;
In the halt prior to mine,
leaving a chaos in my heart.

— The End —