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Jim Nightshade May 2013
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir yessir yessir
yessir   yessir  yessir **NO!
David Ehrgott Dec 2014
My sister karen was a manhater
she hated all men
deliriously
she would sit on the top
of the bunkbed she shared with sue
and with one finger curl her hair
then pull it out by the roots
it was quite disturbing
she would spend hours
every saturday doing this
until she had almost no hair left
the family worried for her

During the week when I would
come home from school (I think
I was around 7 or 8) karen (being
older and bigger) would run up to me
kick me in the gut
push me to the floor
jump on top of me
grab me by the ears
and pound my head
on the floor until
my brains fell out
this went on for several weeks
until I told my parents and
they finally put an end to it

One night sue didn't want to get caught
eating an apple in bed
so she put the core in the toilet
and it clogged it
we (all four of us)
were awakened in the middle of the night
and had to line up so my mother
could beat us with a belt
until someone confessed
I was tired so I said okay
I did it
I got a good belting that night
I was suspended from school
for a week because the teacher
complained that the welts on my back
were bleeding so profusely that
lt was interrupting the learning process
of the other children

One day I was coming home from school
and I got caught in a hailstorm
I got pelted really good
Lucky for me Mr. Doty was home for lunch
so I took cover under
his light blue ford f-series pick-up truck
hail as big as golf *****
some the size of baseballs
continued to rain down
I don't know for how long
because I fell asleep

"What were you doing under there?"
he questioned as he was shaking my arm
awakening me
(I quess he thought I was messing around
or something)
I came to and stated
"THE GOLF ***** WERE FALLING
I NEEDED A PLACE TO HIDE"
"oh" he said
"you mean to tell me you were in THAT?"
"yessir" I replied
"well, your schoolday's almost over,
maybe you should go home and rest"
"yessir"
And I went home and rested

When karen turned eighteen
she married a wife beater
for nearly ten years he would
ugly 'er up
finally she couldn't take anymore
and divorced him

But she was only following tradition
my grandpa beat his wife
my father beat his wife
and al beat karen

Yep, those three knew
how to really take a beating

But, not from a hailstorm
Jude Rate Mar 2013
Danimal Dan was Green, reusing every hand-me-down
the dumpster offered.
stipend half our middle class allowance, so the Danimal
could get his fix in unison with ours.
slab dual twenties in his oily callous hands.

while sluggin N’ sloshin’ his cheap wine,
the Danimal returns heroic, with red lips
and pink teeth, handing us “licka” boasting new
apocalyptic theories
the sky is full of creatures,
deys plottin’ yessir, pilots
   known for years, but Big
Washington Wiggies, keep
Uhmmmm zipped, yessir
hired dem creatures, “population
control” to **** eat America
leaving only the Finest.

the Danimal’s vision flashes, giant winged
Salamanders kamakazie dive from the sky.
fat white collar Cons offer bribes as they ****
fantastic fear all over their linen pants.
some auction children as the Danimal
arrives with an army of America’s finest
staggering out of
back alley bars & soup
kitchens
they shake Salamander hands
Slurring welcome
with Bourbon breaths
Jay Jimenez Mar 2013
greasy hands
and rusty tools
bolts and shop rags
that dry my tough skin
i see the clock tick down
as me and my brother work away
the money makes us patient
because our time awaits
sick back crack the tall tops
and shots bring back the days when we sat on bar stools and talked ****
but when the magazine cover cops our last names
we will be sittin in the shade and our dickies are in the dryer waiting to be folded
creased and soon we will be pampered on
and we will sit back and smoke cigs and talk about the days when we talked about gettin rich
now were rich and talking about what we will do next
paychecks are old news
the new girls are old news
and the old news are our new stories
just sittin and listenin to wu tang
and sparkin up mexican bluegrass
and not cashin in our g pass
flippin pages
flippin pages
I wrote a poem recently.
Not so much a poem,
more like a story;
a story of love,
kind of like a love story.
Sure,
it was the best love story
we've never read.

There were romances,
struggles,
some revelations
and resurrections...
even a few bruised egos.
Blah,
blah.

Yessir,
a bayside view of
false paradise
if I'd ever seen one;
some dogeared page
ripped out of a
journal written in ink
and found in the gutter.

No beginning or end.
Just a thought.
A memoir
of a fantasy that should've just
been
and never had to explain itself.
note: Do not read.
Lewis Findley Feb 2011
a harelipped man walked into a liquor store and walked up to the proprietor and said gimme a bottle of gin.

and the proprietor said to himself  "why THIS dumb *******. I'll have some  fun with him!"

He said "What kind  would you like?"

"You mean theres more than one kind?"

"Yessir theres 3"

"What are they?"

"Hydrogen, Oxygen and Nitrogen"

"Thats right" Said the harelip.

and theres three kinds of turds too.

"What do you mean?"

"Mustard. Custard. AND YOU YOU BIG SACK OF ****!"
Matalie Niller Aug 2012
Magic mirror on the wall
tell a story, lies are fine
and so am I
just the other day a feller said
my, what great curves youu have
cars and such were never an interest
just a stupid investment
waste of time and money
late late for a very important slate
a new one
out with the old, in with the innovative
get creative
it's impossible
too broad, minds can be narrow as rails
trains pass through
rumbling, rumbling like rockslides in canyons
you in?
Fun can be naughty
not like when you're a child
no
that fun was preconceived frivolty
but this **** hear
yessir, this is real fun
you got it ***
maybe spark some interest in the papers
words with more words
darling tell me a story
make it **** good
about a princess who isn't beautiful
but still pretty, in a rather unnoticeable way
and make her a ****** who loves fire
take it up
makes me all sleepy
when your mirror talks in such silliness.
Lawrence Hall May 2017
The Most Boring American Legion Meeting Ever

A Monologue in Two Parts

I.

Voice:

“Ya wanna talk prostrate1 cancer? I’ll tell ya
About prostrate cancer those PSAs
Don’t mean nothing and those doctors don’t know
Nothin’ I’ve had 15 on my PSA

“Ever since when and I ain’t got prostrate cancer
But this feller I knew he had a one on his
PSA and he had stage five cancer
And he died, so don’t tell me nothin’ about

“Prostrate cancer ‘cause I go the meetings
And so I know, I tell ya, yessir, I do…”


1Prostate, of course

II

Same Voice:

“Say, did y’all have any good buffets in Iraq
Or that other place Afghanistan
The buffets in Manila were expensive,
I tell ya, expensive, they cost forty dollars,

“Yessir, they did, and that was right down the street
From the embassy and that was too much
Just too much for what ya got, I tell ya
And they gave us ‘phone cards and they were made

“Right there and sixty minutes disappeared
Off it right when you dialed the number, yessir…”

L’Envoi

A Second Voice (in pain, weak, much like the voice of the Bleeding Sergeant in Macbeth):

“I move we adjourn.”
Lawrence Hall Jun 2019
My dad was on Omaha Beach but he
didn’t talk much about it so now
I’m going to take the rest of the day
to tell you all that he didn’t much talk about
we broke the Enigma code yeah we did
you can always tell a real veteran by
his thousand-yard stare, yessir, I know stuff
we kicked the Germans’ butts but he didn’t talk
much about it if not for us the French
would be speaking German yeah man yeah
when I was in graduate school but he
didn’t talk much about it we saved the world
when I was in graduate school when I
saw Patton those liberals in academia
he had this thousand-yard stare them snowflakes
wouldn’t hit Omaha Beach now they’d be browning
their pants when I was in graduate school
but he didn’t talk much about it yeah
that M-1 was the best battle implement
ever devised I got me one and boy
it’s got some serious stopping power yessir
I just love to go out to the range and pop some caps
with that bad boy the French are cheese-eating
surrender monkeys we can’t depend on the Italians
but he didn’t talk much about it when I
was in graduate school thousand-yard stare
my dad was there he didn’t talk much about it
here is a youtube about it if only
those snowflakes would watch Patton they’d learn something
left-wing academia he didn’t talk much about it
when I was in graduate school yeah man
I seen it on Band of Brothers liberal elites
Macron Macron Macron first front second front
‘cause I know stuff I got a whole liberry
but he didn’t talk much about it if not
for us yeah you’d all be speaking German
we saved France’s **** when DeGaulle told us
he wanted all American soldiers out of France
we asked him if that included the thousands
of American soldiers in French cemeteries
and that sure shut him up ha ha ha
bet you never heard that before and then
there was these old veterans at the airport
and this Frenchy asked them for their passports
and this old man had to look for his
and this Frenchy asked this veteran if he
had been in France before and this veteran
said he had and then this Frenchy he said
then you know you need to have your passport
ready and this here old veteran said that he
was at Normandy and there wasn’t no Frenchies
to give it to and you could hear a pin drop
ha ha I bet you never heard that one before
When I was in graduate school when I
was on my gap year but he didn’t talk much about it
snowflake liberal elites in academia
I love me my AK-47 that son
spits out some serious lead but he didn’t
talk much about it…


Me? Like, I had this deferment, my feet,
but I know all about it ‘cause I watch John Wayne
and my dad was in it so I guess he ought to know
and he was in a real war; you were only in
like you know them A-rabs and stuff…
David Ehrgott Aug 2015
This is a song that I call
I beat the mountain
And it ends
with I am dead

I beat the mountain yessir
I beat the mountain
Don't just pretend
that it hurts

I beat the mountain dallas
I beat the mountain
I beat the mountain alice
I beat the mountain
I beat the mountain
I beat the mountain

There's a place in this world
Where you can go to climb to heaven
It's in the Himalayan Mountains
in south, east, central asia

It takes a week to walk to the mountain
And one more week to reach the air
And there is no air at the top
And you freeze your face off there
  
And so I walked to the mountain
And I reached higher ev'ry day
And I breathed in the air
And took pictures of the mountain
  
Now that mountain presents a challenge
Says "Don't come near me if you dare"
For I will slay you on this mountain
I have before ; I will again
  
Uh-Oh the challenge of that mountain
The challenge in the air
The challenge of that mountain
The challenge of that mountain
  
And I climbed the mountain
Yes I did, I climbed the mountain
I climbed the mountain
I climbed the mountain
  
You think the sun, when it hits your head
That you're blinded or you're dead
You think the sun, when it hits your head
It warmed your head but, it didn't
  
But I kept climbing, I kept ahead
Going higher and higher, no more air
But there's more mountain, so there
It's all a joke, just on you, not all of humanity
Most people know better and
Stay away from the mountain
It bites off your head
Takes your fingers and toes
And nose from you and leaves you dead
Takes your brain, makes you delirious
Makes you crazy in the brain, I'm serious
So stay away from the mountain

Stay away from the mountain
Stay Away!  Stay away from the mountain
Stay Away!  Stay away from the mountain
Stay Away!  Stay Away, Far Far Away!

Cause I climbed up that mountain
Yes I did, I climbed that majic mountain
Yes I did, I climbed the mountain
I'm full of dread 'cause I am dead
i'm a polyamorous bi-curious ***-machine girl
yessir i am.

i love my daddy
that never gave a ****
and would have rather
been with drunk women
which may be why
i feel beautiful
when i drink.

and by god
i love my cousin
that loved a young girl's body
and couldn't resist
touching mine
which may be why
i'm entranced
by a woman's form.

and holy hell
i love my ex
that grew cold
and became violent
over the smallest things
which may be why
i enjoy
being abused.

and jesus christ
i like my boyfriend
that truly loves me
and treats me right
which may be why
i don't know
how
to
love
him.
Matalie Niller May 2012
Yessir I have felonies
and melodies both melancholy and miraculous
paragraphiculous and ridiculous
stole some shows and some thunder
thighs like two day old pudding slap 'em and ride the waves
sike
drink up some dishwasher detergent chased with lead paint
not for the faint of heart just the stupid as ffffffffuuuuuu when under the right noises
and boyses and girlies all singing their swirlies
and twirlin' 'round like pinwheels of tin steel
ten feet off of the ground
hillsides like pill boxes full of coins and coincidences
unmeasured instances of grief and shame without a blame
no face to force hate just mirrors to show fate
and the stars in the sky with their winking teasing ways all
fall to the ground
will be dead within days
but they are not forsaken, maybe only spared
to avoid seeing the moment when sunny didn't share
and all went dark like absence of creation
animation of fears all mixed and respun into dope dubstep
to be grinded and mashed
and spat back up into the trees
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
I watched a man die for no reason.

two hard-bought lines, pay attention

I saw something

Men were never meant to see, it's not like TV.

I had to say, I saw him die, no one else said they did.

So, to this day,
In America, I live, an honored survivor of what I saw.

I was reminded by a fool, on TV
telling what we did in that war

for no reason.

It's on TV, it's not real.

Like Vietnam was, remember? It don't mean nuthin',

FTA, it means find the answer sir, yessir.
Permanent tat, yessir. FTA, all the way.
Mully grubbin' with old acquaintances and a fine afghani kush
Craig Verlin Aug 2013
there were old men
laying around the
pool
like cigarette butts
in an ashtray
burnt out and
diminishing as
their feet
dangle in the water
lapping up against
their knees
they talked about
the old war
the good war
back in a time when
there was war to
believe in
now what?

now they have their
feet in a pool
fat white skin
burning in the moonlight
while knobby knees
are canvas to varicose
veins and the occasional
scar

--oh this one from
surgery, this one
from a foxhole
dug out some
hillside near Salerno
sliced up the
side of my leg
nice and good, yessir,
killed the
**** guinea
though don't worry--

and they would hold
out their arms
to explain how
they held those old
standard issue springfield's
while arthritis shook
that imaginary
rifle to the point
of danger but
they never noticed
leaning in to stare down
the sights
aiming carefully at
some elusive
foe across the pool

they would laugh at
how much they hated those
guns
they would laugh at
the insanity of it all
how young they had been
how old they were now
how much had changed
and how much hadn't
their wives were all gone
left widowed or divorced
all it seemed they had
was Tunisia or
Italy or that French
beach early morning in
1944

the world is a battlefield
for old men
with no
weaponry but old
stories caked in dust
Lawrence Hall Jan 2018
“Did Y’all Read About Those Chips in the Bible?”

In the Supermarket Checkout Line

“Did y’all read about those chips in the Bible?
Yessir, they got these chips now, and we ain’t
Gonna be able to buy or sell nothing
Without these here chips in our bodies

The C.I.A., some of those people got’em,
Yessir, and you ain’t going to the grocery store
And buyin’ nothin’ without ‘em. I read
Where it’s in th’ Bible, and, yessir, it is

Me, I’m standin’ on th’ World of th’ Lord
And I ain’t havin’ no chip put in, nossir”
Matalie Niller Jun 2012
Paws and reflect
we're all good little kids
in bleachers, listening patiently,
allowing nonsense to continue
then the trees fell
things got out of hand
kids became adults with super strength
lifted the floors up
threw chainsaws into crowds
yessir
they grew up that day
that hour
and nobody pitied the inhanced
only wished they could join
could be as jaded as the them
climb mountains and spit acid
melt rocks with a look
but no
such characteristics were reserved for the up-and-coming
gods and titans
full of potential energy
bursting at the seams of the skin
splitting open into laughter and mockery
they will save the world
or at least give it a hell of a run for its money.
Rory Hatchel Mar 2011
Crick crack click clap snip snap on the concrete
The city is on the move and to stand would be
The slapstick comedy of stopping a treadmill.
Acceleration animation gravitation from the rotation
Apathetic friction that is devil-may-care like your heart
Dragged down on the gym floor and the sweaty men laugh.
Tick tock nonstop the clock hops and bops away the time
Of the day and eternity seems like a fairy tale
Because this era is neverneverland faith, we are young.
And getting younger, we plan to die naked as we came,
Lounging in retirement, the summer that knows no end.

But sighing the dying are crying relying upon our move
And we move past, this blur of momentum that the city has become,
Because stillness is for the hippies and the natives and we are neither.
Capitalistic colonial conquering captains of industry we charge
Credit or debit because it isn't ours anyways and the bank is moving.
Down the street in the heat can't beat the beat of the sweet treat
That the homeless remember the memory of the taste of mercy.
Like dogs in heat they pant and beg and we shake them off our pantleg
Because it is designer and the label buys manhood cheap and sells it high.

We split hit and quit and never commit because we spit words like blessing
Out when we wash our mouths out every night and every morning
Because it is the only way to get the taste out of your mouth when you wake up.
As if the jacket I wear can't clothe a man from the cold or sell for more
And my closet is lined with the clothes I don't remember to forget about wearing.
It is not hate that congregates or abates the rate the weight is pulling me down,
But fear of the immensity of impossibility colliding with reality inevitably,
Because one man's sacrifice will suffice to pay the price of my vice.

Yessir hearts are racing toward the first heart, we are collaborating.
That the dying need not remain the dead but know life to the fullest.
The poor and the sore need not abhor or war with the rush of the city.
Because saints and saviors are not just bedtime stories as long as my life
Has the power, no the will, no just the faith, all it needs is faith.
The sick have been tricked that their wick runs quick
Like crick crack click clack snip snap on the concrete
These hearts are moving this city on a hill.
Castiel Apr 2014
The rigging is
set, Captain.
Brown rope, aye,
secured tightly - aye,
can be adjusted.
Here, I'll stand on this
chair and see how
it's looking - aye,
Captain, it's proper
tight now, it will
function just
well enough, sir.
Oh, Captain, the sea;
I can see the
stormy waves,
black and
turmoiled. Aye,
Captain, all rigging
set. All hands on
deck, yessir.
We can't very well set
sail with a chair on the
deck, Captain.
Permission to kick
it away?
I'm assuming the message in this one is fairly clear?

Anyway, this isn't about me, for any of you concerned.
Jenny Gordon Feb 2017
You are allowed to laugh, I've heard it is good medicine.



(sonnet #MMMMMCMXCII)


Alas.  I cherish too much, in a sense,
October's pale eye, and how in betrayl
Thet lonely yellow leaf 'non skitters, frail
And hapless 'cross the blacktop, lost from hence
Within grey shadows as cold winds breathe thence
In careless fashion through worn Maples' hale
Stance, green, orange-kissed and whispring of ne bail
Whilst Death walks silent through this vague suspense.
These blue skies wear a cloudless mien as twere,
Yet blinding echoes of thin fragments do
Some tour of duty in their backdrop fer
Good measure.  Yellow gladrags dance, the crew
Of staid leaves fragile.  But I love't all, poor
As saying is, only wanting, yessir:  You.

24Oct16a
*cuz aka Vincent Dill requested it.
Edna Sweetlove Jan 2015
\|/
@-@
(  -Q-  )
<=>
how I
drool over obese girls
with huge great cheeks
of wobbly dimpled fat
>========o======== no skinny birds for me!=======o========<
absolutely no way
yeeha
i love to see wobbly
fat girls waddling along
with their tyres of white flab
quivering in their size 88 jeans
like a pack of rabid rabbits fighting
in a rubber sack, and what do they need
yessir, they are barking for a friendly *****
from moi, edna the chubby-chaser and lover
of gorgeous female flesh body mass index forty
(at an absolute total minimum i must emphasise)
and preferable fifty so they look like a giant dumpling
i know you know the sort of image i crave: dimpled, dappled
acreages of heaving ****-cheeks wowee-yowee i am so excited
please god lead me to the land where the extra supersize fatties live
and let me exhaust my ***** gaze on their incredible buxom enormities
let me get my paws on them let me wallow in their glories dear god
oh yes indeedy when you come to think of it there's nothing like
a huge billowing fatso to get my blood afire with testosterone
and bottom-of-the-barrel-scraping loving lust
so why not jump off a pier
all you skinny minnies
per-lease
/\
/   \
/      \
@        @
/            \
/               \
+++                         +++
Edna Sweetlove Dec 2014
On some verdant green hill far away in cute little Palestine of old
Before the Israelis marched in and bunged out the owners
Jesus was hanging about on the cross not feeling too happy
I suppose he was dying for you and me because his Dad was asleep
And he doesn't care if you are a ****** or a giant or a fatty or a fairy!
Yessir! He loves everyone unequivocally provided they praise him endlessly
And receive him in their souls and sing him a load of ****** hymns!

But if you don't receive the LORD and reject the words of the EVIL ONE
He (God) will crush you totally and utterly like a blue-tailed fly
Squatting on a well-used and ill-cleaned second-hand lavatory brush
Without any exception whatsoever even if you are an ugly fat dwarf
As He don't hold with no discrimination nor positive action no way!
So get down on your knees (a shorter journey for amputees with stumps)
And get praying to THE LORD without blinking twice. Yeeha! Amen!
Ken Pepiton Jul 2023
Next then now, then next
no line, no dot, nothing now

time passes, came to pass,
as a near answer, a near new
point from which to view now.


In my case, my time as part,
smallest difference made,

the air you breathe, once,
I breathed into, and once,

I made you think yourself,
become a being I am not, but

then,
time,
and chance, all things working,
being, by gone, on gone working
to gather the momentum to make
time stretch into another whole mo-
ment, monumental pillar of earth salt.

At this point, next seems inevitable.
So we wait.
Thinking a next like this next one,
has never had a state of being common.

What - all ifery asks, if, imagined, seen, see

we agree and proceed to see, so time's
essence is momentarily mental, we think,
therefore we do many mental moments, we
think we would, or could or should be ready
for ever to cease forming myself, from myself,

slowing time, to myself, for myself, taking mine
and forming some for you to use, to take a second

order of packeted eventuality, side-tracked,
to let the important news of many deaths elsewhere,
make us agree to become so much better informed,

buy the best life has on offer, ready,
read the instructions.
{ lifetime acheivement, never reached}
Chiefest among missers of the mark.

Of course, in the course of human events,
from the playing fields of Eton, to the battlefields
of Afghanistan, what power reigns supreme?
- The Lion came, and brought the Tiger,
- the Bear came, and left, and then the Rat,
- or the Weasle, we can even see a Squirrel
- in the role of first worst case scenario on offer.
VOG - quiet on set, quiet back stage,
mind reengage tongue, taste the fertile reality, who
and what we are, enjoyment, actually, being, mere joy,
ahoy, adrift in all our otherwords, set idle by our tech-logic
- What fear rules the man who has learned his role?
Broken leg, reversed cursing, blessing God, just in case.

-- A day, Ivan Denisovich, Zeks, yes,
man's inhumanity to man, and best layed plans

plotted course of concentration, minds meld, given
incentive to spill over the banks of the feeder canals,

as the hermit's cistern in the Lagunas, topped it's edge,
and he sighs, thinking, so it is, you got a cistern,
I gotta cistern, if yours were to overflow,
it is your fault, or your glory for the joy, in the streets
in the summer,
in the city, back o' yo' neck red and sweaty, you dig,
you become worthy of the daily bread we are given
for righteous duty done, did I do, or did you, did we

sing along with the bouncing ball, did we all?

Thinking, all we do is wait,
becoming old, we wait to finish thinking,
thinking old, old, olden days, before letters,
before
knowing, being nothing, becoming this, these
lines of lettering linking noises used among us
to carry thought from me, myself and I, to you,

the one other at the moment, in the state,
what if, what if, what if nothing makes more
difference than you, one of us, one in our once

in an unbroken history of science and philosophy,
our hours of confluency, our instants in shared
learning, minutes of life's use, as used to make us
up from nothing… to think about a series of every

expansion to our sense of connectedness, seeing
we lieve being true, first proof the priests do lie,

first proof the chaos is not evil, but essential
patient zero, paradigm,
"logical or conceptual structure
serving as a form of thought
within a given area
of experience," Kuhn, perhaps, aligned

any worth, any value, any cost or price,
eventually, any time is too short.
Any vessle filled with experiential wonders
projected on reflective walls, six ways walled.
windowed and doored.

In parts, in passing, taking offerings
left in pasts for hungry spirits, urging

answer seeking, seeming endless, whying,
ifing, framing forms for fitting twos to ones,

as when we agree, we form a two headed
thing, with we agreeing meatily to work
as carnal minds do, given set and setting,

inform a vessle for holding self evidence.

Governing systems, blindman crosswalks,
mandated, ai, remote eye aware, are we,
seeing from television, new form, digitized
bit maps of surprising resolution, if one re-
members learning lessons of scale, how tall,
how small, the ratio, this pattern of whorls,

and that, fingerprint from some once in ever,
there, we all see it, so huge we lack the frame
of referrence, we cannot bear the weight of knowing

we are the tipped point on our wave's recourse
around the laws serving stanchion roles in god's houses.

Pillars formed from promises, to those who find the time,
now, in a given day,
plain old everyday summertime, growing time, passing
as quaint, handcrafted meditation stations, desert fathers,

have we any wool, yessir, yessir, three bags full,
master, dame, and some poor spinner
who lives down the lane… earning daily bread,
as penance for being born in sin, losing all the good God
had planned, I' know a guy,
he can tell this story,
as a called and reconnected son, of God.

And the likelihood, actuarially, as tithes passed,
interesting, heft, umph, to the indulgent users, knowing
good and evil, evil is lazy money, doing no man any good.

Knowing how to grow more money, Midas, reminds,
as do many voices from the tombs, liars prosperity changes

legends, shapes myths, fixes history just so, at the instant,
we knew, we all knew, at once, everything,
is after ever before,
and we have stores of knowns, unbeknownst,
arranged in time and alpha beth order, for habitual
referrence, you know, we all know religions are powers
wielded by Ideal candidates, chosen children, and broken
old ladies,
what mystery is more mysterious than they,
the power they rewield as time stamps, proof, there

that guy was a witness, and he was not there,
on the stair, I
sat, imagining I remembered that, and found it odd.

I have been lied to, and I have lied, to you, I do,
naturally, I am of that class of sapient things, I can
lie, if lying leads the mark into the mark-et try and do,

do, indeed, Yoda, wink. Done, and beheld, now, that
is time well spent.

AND there's more…

Meta Kuhnian Crisis Paradigm.

Four nickles, two dimes, time was,
two novels, or four one reel peep shows,
-SECOND COMING TYPE- ten 2 cent papers
WAR CALLS
PEACE-
times means for holding a cultural bubble,
intact, sticky in fact, tacky to the touch,

RSO and blue stripes… settled hermit state,
from a granite lip of a feng shui breeze,
AI, what do I know - in summary,
a procession
Summarizer
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions is a book written by philosopher Thomas S. Kuhn in 1962.12 Kuhn argued that scientific advancement is not linear, but rather a series of peaceful interludes punctuated by intellectually violent revolutions, where one conceptual world view is replaced by another.3 The book offers a general pattern of scientific change, where inquiries in a given field start with a clash of different perspectives.1 Eventually, one approach manages to resolve some concrete issue, and investigators concur in pursuing it—they follow the "paradigm." Kuhn challenged long-standing linear notions of scientific progress, arguing that transformative ideas don't arise from the day-to-day, gradual process of experimentation and data accumulation, but that the revolutions in science, those breakthrough moments that disrupt accepted thinking and offer unanticipated ideas, occur outside of "normal science." The historical process of science is divided into three stages: a "normal" stage, followed by "crisis" and then "revolutionary" stages.0

Of my own volition, if one were to assume
one of my stations in life could possibly know my own will,
revolunteered to lead a raid behind the lines,
out of loyalty to a bucket list
perfect cow dismemberment, check,
tear a sacred cow to shreds and leave it to be ciphered out,
by farmers living high on the Teapot Dome affair,
and its coincidence to great social reformation,
- steam roll, electric mind of Tesla
- and all the unsung genius under Edison, into one,
- as the online entity with roots back to BBS and
- dial tone tricks of a switch…
yes, the burden of the rich, as we saw the similarities,
become the unresolved problem,
- mission drift, art intuited cognosis
have you never read where it is written that we,
we who read
being the only letting being
to let it be known, that we are to judge angels,
- where does this go?
as best messaging noncorporeal beings, wielding spirit in truth,
not some clown troupe trope miss
representing feeble minds reattempting trials,

Not Clarence, or Caspar, or the couple in the Thin Man,
nor Harvey, the Pooka manifested as human in a rabbit hat.

In profile he became the ******* Logo, same rabbit head guy.
Bunny lore, wrapped in chinchilla, soft as kitten fur,

who would ever tell?

--- Business, summer makes me think of winter sales.

No curious use of curio arts, ancient
beta better possible ways, from when we knew nada
at all, zip, zilch, no se, no way, we were babes,

and if we are raised, we become like animals, we sweat.
But, if we are reared, we become as men, we perspire.

As sentient beings who read as readily as we write,
we accept the role of reader as ours by right, or rote
ritual quotidian duty, each day, we plan to finish re-en
lightening the mob, the masses, eight billion of us now,

as we approach the peak, powers of ten, times six,
why six,
cubes stack nice… least heat, cool
enough to seal a preset get,
go, be gone to elicit light,
research into mind mold.
I write for fun, the stuff in entertainment, mental activa, I may suppose.
Love Apr 2015
stay awake
stay awake
I cant.
you have to
I wouldn't be nearly falling asleep in class if you would have let me sleep.
Miss Love
Yessir?
Wake up.
What?
Who are you talking to?
me*

Mr. Miller? Are you sleeping? Wake up.
Huh?
I think you were sleeping.
Ken Pepiton May 2023
as I nearly slept, I nearly
rolled over in my bed, did not,
folded my hands, slumbered on
dreamlessly imagining signals hmmms
Massive
low
notes, accepted as receptible
by my phone with no reply request
acknowledge
accusatory story…, here, I see, okeh

Each sapien sapience, from the womb,
to final dust, despite the mounds of mud,

and opera, werks, shunning sweat,
rear up any child in the way one wishes
that child to grow, see, noble king
one must see those things one wishes
were true,
then rule,
be the head of state itself, the wedom
of all the subjective class, objects
deemed worthless but by thy
grrrace, grunting there is a hell. there is, there is
as it is said Christians must believe,
having as one prays, even now,
those needs, cast off all care,
imagine all debts, all paid,
no offering to prove it
needed, only be
left to see your own way, open eyes, a bitter taste,
aftertaste of wisdom, used as in a spirtual duel,
with a passle of powerful fools, unaware
of the rules, anointed, by truth, dare
prove all things, challenge
the persuader, offer bitter herbs with salt.
Salivate conditioned reflex,
some day all your enemies
feel your own self made up form of love,
and that loving burns their evil minds,
to useful illuminosity, before
catch, grip. holf if, see
ante-cipitates, make each look up,
pledge the believers every day,
good
to go,
so in time, as stages pass,
one knows, this is what my hand
has found to do.

In your service dear reader, thus far,
in our momentary now reality,
between our shared unreal pasts,
in the bubble of we, the people of earth,
attempting to buy the world a coke,
since a certain series of orange acid
during February and March, 1970-
- Chicago. Kesey and Wolfe
- fine weather, for a few days in March

ping vid mind adapts, yes, we re
member seeing something so close
to that exact day at that exact spot,
and the weather
was way worse.

but then I he(a)rd the songs of Mao,
being mys-tried, re sung once more as if
each line was free of debt to Lao Tze
no wei, no secret sacrosanction.
dedeMao, now.
b'n ice geeye ai ai - feel the power
lust right, the drill
will to…
w8
Impulse to cut and run, see a message,
make it stick to the bumper of your cat. Cat.
Tell the world what you are
catalogical,
sorted by did you not wish you knew
rearview, how much of that
do you know,
do you know once, we remember

I did, feel a signal, listen,
think I speak mammoth, listen

in fact, we all did, at the time,
we project that as impossible to prove\
reproof of construe-ition is the way of life
instruction in right use, upgrade scales
praxis co-knowing our each selfish in a
we as a wedom, awesome
by the way life lingers
on topological math,
see,
below the actual band width
of light, white
in the middle see the bones
of the bits, those are from stars,
photons ping touch /percepticons
see-ing
opposition in the future, met today,
hey hey hey
tell me what I say,
that ain't no way to pray,
I done said to each, ever lasting
misconcieved grand spirit of a movement
when the guts of goodnessakesknowswhat
is clogged in curses,
generational debt,
the ruler mind set,
to rob the rich, I was led,
daily I watched the Adventures
of Robin Hood, while I only saw Dragnet
once each week,
ethics of each occur in all boomers, as a wedom,
the first generation born after 1945,
sorted by standardized Dewey measures
of progress. toward becoming
community minded boys and girls,
destined to bring tomorrow by conforming
to the systematized sorting, grading on math
and language arts, then history and science,
then juris prudence for civilians, duty,
- team player drills daily, 40 minutes,
- extracurricular activity choices, weighed

current deception opens green receptors
for signals
to me sent, presently as a gift,
from the queen
of the south.

We assume the idea of gifts, tributes
to k'ki'kn'no'ings, legendary models,
magi conquerors who kept the roads free
of theives and babblers
of goodness only, used as sacramental
kindness made sacred,
bidding you have a mighty fine day.

- is that the Power Farm?
- Circa 1989, HyperCard, crazy easy coding.
- But not so easy as now, finally, harmony,
- knowledge was never what divided
- truth from multitudes of witnesses,
- globally aware more mass shooting than days
- to share with former saints in 2023, so far…
All ye
Religious spirits, little impulsive crossing, muttering
thankyou to the unknown god, higher power, el ultimo.

You know, Wisdom herself, given her due, trueee baby,
too true, knowledge is power, wisdom is might,
stand up, right, perpindicular to the true balance,
prepared, made ready to use thoughts abound,
and turn you around
on a low pressure gyre, rolling up Tornado Alley,
as you imagine it all connects.

It's that hard rain, the poets called,
a seeing from the old'ns,
son, ya got a good eye,

never hesitate to wink, and think, I can see,
should I ever need to give up an eye
for my life's comfortable ends, in mind, my
days of rest --ha, these, after a spectacular

reexamination of metaphors filled with crud,
as seen in plastic sacks of potatoes,
left to sprout and rot, in the dark,
not the slightest snakey lick
of seeing with infra-red, in your head, augmental
conjoining
click… serious speed of recognition instant
cognosis,
we both know, like in a Romcom, how- to movie,
shaping mindsets to put on while in rut.

Historically Christian Nationalist Roots, Cowboy way,
circa the informational slots we slipped by, ran away,

one bought a carnival, one bought charisma seeking,
one bought a vision
through the future to right now. Eh.

How oft must one reset such knowns as nouns,
and names of action words, love, fear, hate, lie, die

Did your mindset bid you challenge

Since 2016, I have my word, I swore, with fervor,
once more eternal hostility
to any form
of tyranny {outside-will control} ever imposed
upon the mind
of mankind, wombed or un, however we be
physically, there is none of that in Christ,
believe your rules of rights use.
Examine the faith that being apes,
who could signal names of things, Adamkind,
pre functional womb model.

He could name things, he could not make babies.
Adamkind, warrior breeds from olden days,
such as fight to entertain the mob in waiting,
fans for flames, founders kenning use
of passionate inflamation to provoke
good works, in the mind of the mob,

vicarious sons of deceiving reasons, come
to call my use of faith proves nothing real.

There are made men using God's name, in vain,
eh, it never works, but it is their religious duty
to think kingly, eh,
too ghuckingoodforoneself, we, Trumpians.
We believe,
we never imagine a war we can't make.

Or a set of actual conspiratorial winds,
with names, familiar spirits, returning winds,
infested with Saharan dust, where once were lush
gardens, back when Greenland was green,
or, so I heard/

Bham harumpharump feel the answer,
pick up the combover, so cool, no care, unaware,

- exposed to the expert in this warfare,
- symbolic marvelous armour,
- for pulling down strongholds, castles,
- silicon solid state preservation cast away
- war in the spirit with historical daemons,
- meeting the neo-Manicheans, word for word…
Ai ai, sir, yessir.
We won a mindtimespace precedent mind state writ,
with the entire child of Arpanet, my second wit,
ready writer motto,
use knowledge right, criticize your story,
sift solidity through cellular security,
finest flakes of self assurance, shine
on
and on as
knowns evil or good.. only the priest can call
foul or fair, there,
excuse you, lawyer
for the defense that there is no vicarage, no live
embodiment
of the intercessor between,
truth's way through life,
and the common dominion
of a certainty,
Your MOTHER IS
BY GOD, ALL CURSES, SHE's

the reason
for your father's rage, generational curses,
daddy wounds,
mommy deprivation, post partum. chaos

love, assuage
woe, soorry, Jesus. But, as has been widely
reported the business
of religion,
by exposing truth
pays a visible wage, shiny smile,
U joint versify,

if we may,
play in the code of life, past any inkling fear
of death,
ducks
in order, will and testament cleared,
read already, ready
to oppose, I suppose, am I.
Logically a state of mind, at the moment.

I callt the efficacy of faith
to call all the outs in.

So we see them on TV, they everywhere,
other people,
OH GOD, why must there be
other people,
oh, my, we may agree,
this answers that,
reasoning, by active faith,
usualized, made common sense.
Why would any sane lover of truth god,
create a forever for enemies of lies?
Belief in spirits opposing truth,
metaphors abound, Kriegspiel on coke,
the real thing, viewers imagine,
watching all the nobles
become naked, and as ugly as any among us.
We see the chins and hairlines in horses,
yet neglect to notice, mustang
herd management, as traits
adjust to new standards,
wild life reset to order.
We realize the riddle,
is the reason, we feel foolish and know it,
U knew, not me, forethought,
morphically resonating
peace, as on a gong
gone
normative,
adjustment bureau wise
sinner's bound in a doctrine
- cut to the gist, there is no sting in death.
- and teaching children to fear death is abuse
- of right authority granted parents
- of loved children, chosen ones, olden days.
Legendary warrior mind, allowed, only if
initiation allows exposure

the daysman lack-
no, look crosswise,'
stripes, whistle, dude
-see, there, the excuse, Job ttalked back.
And Yah, he say, you know, you got that right.
Heysus hisself, look at me he say, I'll go,

become the logical conclusion,
to a story where there was a flaw,
and time threatened to run out, but
the hero, ready to become the tool
to answer a malignant liar with his religion.
Job said to Yah,
you do not know how it feels to put on
a carnal  mind, set by God in Atom's right
to be first
to say this is that…
and one thing leads to another
- you feel the power without knowing
Mysteriously, you,
suddenly seem shy, thinking
how can I say what this is,
you have no right
to say a name Adam did not
say first, we say ****, you say poo,
******* artistic instinkty ways to say, not what
goes in,
corrupts, but what comes out sure can,
that's
gnosishit trustatistical fact according
to science
scent, pre
yours it stinks to, Jesus said.
Brush y'teeth, with Pepsodent to night, be
brite
- visible
knowledge is all good see, so we say we say
good riddle. fit for a king
prone to seek an interpreter of signs and sigils.

A trained cadre of bright boys, as runners,
or senders,
senders using drum and fife, to lead,
trumpet to send, and banners,
to rally round on our side,
whose sigil is that? Do we aid or raid
the edges, scavenge strategy
from the dead.
Live to tell, as I the lone survivor,
I who slew the king at his request, please
believe me
I never steer you to wrong.

Letters flow qwerty wise,
let it happen in the fingers fit to the task,

take a little walk, listen
to a story, sit a while and wish the
enemy were here to enjoy the ease,
beyond the bliss of ignoring,
past the weight worth standing under,
to the home imagined right in time
to finish in December, 2021, one thing
done.

Search any phrase of life, and find answers
to unasked questions, regard-iding lying done
id est as when it is, totally Scriptural moral- wise
right in such a time as once

when some liars who held fast to prophesy
hired the guy who rode the wild ***,
which cognosisadictattenti sorts say
the darnedest things, strecht
stitch in time
Art of Linking Letters, Art Linkletter,
as regular a lunchtime mind flush with a chuckle
and nod at the secrets children can
claim to publicly believe, but ….

the link was to the stay-at-home mom,
not her peer's latch-key kids in allegiance prep,
who get home each day,
for a solo home run heads up on,

who did what on the news, since last night.
Wait, when did Kid Parrett buy the farm,
for more lasting fame than many
in the game, of vicarious triggerers of revenge
reaction, action ready
wha, wham
I a,am sh…za'am is a real rebbiwort, glaubtgut
Jesus
do u read Seuss, still, a quest, mark, take,
leave, ask best bet, take
chance…
look away. Beulah land,
then Beulah see, wise black nanny guide from non-
nodded off, witty, pretty sweety Mary
poppin' clap off pop
stand and deliver, let it be
sistarepistol packin' mama, whoa
Sister,
I did not think to ask, have you been this far? Before?
993 maybe, but the next seven are done. I am stopping, long enough,
to make some money some how... eee-odle eee dee hee,
I may be back again by summer.
pat Mar 2015
I'm standing on the icy head of a barge, all rusted to ****. P.J. (the lead deckhand) and I wait patiently with frozen line tearing at our shoulders. We're far away from the buzzy, groaning engines of the Mary C tug, and all I hear is the water being pushed out of our way.
        "What direction is that?"
         "Up river?"
         "Yessir".
          They call rope line. To me it's always been rope and I don't care to call it something else. But they've made it clear, "it is and will always be referred to as line". It'd be nice if terminology was the only thing that ruffled these country boys feathers. Who knew they'd be so strict?  And do I really need a question mark if it's rhetorical?
         I'm on a boat. It's 6:30 a.m., or as they say back home "early as ****". Sun's poking through the trees and it makes that gentle floating snow a bit more detailed. I stick nervously to the rim, but only because I'm new. It isn't worth pretending to be comfortable, at least not on that thing. Besides, falling in the water is basically equivalent to dying here. The safety videos stressed that. Although, they also swore that a crew will alert you to "watch the bump!" whenever hitting up against something. That's not a real thing though. A lot of the **** we watched isn't real. I'm indifferent. After all, I didn't chase a boat to feel comfortable.
          In my heavy-hearted moments, pessimism takes a whack at everything I put faith in. I reject myself and challenge every step that lead me to unhappiness. Big, big questions toss and turn inside my head, and they try to convince me to run home.  It happens.  
           But I'm happy right now, just seeing the sunrise and being surrounded by all these strange factories puffing out clouds.  It's probably all bad, toxic stuff.  Sometimes it's not worth digging into negative realities. For now, they're factories that make clouds for us to enjoy.  P.J. and I both lit up a cigarette and he asked me why I was smiling.  
           "This is a pretty cool job. I mean, what a way to wake up".
He spit casually off the side, down into the water.
            "You aint lyin".
Ken Pepiton Jul 2019
Ruler first or ruled

in the grand
scheme
of things

the inter-e-
stop

interest
interesting times, quants of time,

quants divisible, but

non-un-en-tangle-able as opposed

at tthis moment
with tangibility being the re-
al-it-if-I-can temptation

time is permanently temporary here,
if that's okeh with you, as

peacemakers were learned to say.

Leave us let this be, see we was never taught,
we
was caught, and we learned

I can-tations
I caint-tatations yessir nossir, damnright,
I'm white trash

from way back. Hillbilly Scotts and Fisher man Sicilians.

Outlaws hang from my family tree
with some honor, omerta. doncha know.

My great granddaddy fought in the Lincoln County War,
on the side that won.

Ever last one o' my kin's sons,
I ken re
call

was left with a life t' live after
winning a war.

Then came me,
and I'as left t'live after losing war after war after war

for no reason,

those was unreasonable wars.

We was poor boys made men by God
And the Corp-
us, the embodiment of an esprit d'corp

-- flash (the real kind, where you remember an event
in time re-
lated by the merest of mere threads of
wonder)

what if, you are reading this and its like
reveilatory
re-veily girl wwwuwu
re-unveiling, luring

you

to a true-ly, like true,
(you can't tell the difference, no diff, right? D'Israeli, maybe.
said that, aside)
true
Hell. Imagine that.
You can't.

Searing hot iron truth:
no condemnation here, no more, ever on
this edge,

if
things stay balanced.
Any time, past now, is mortally pre-carrious

im' guessing that means pre-tooth rot,
but, I can check…

I 'as wrong, lookathis:
precarious (adj.)
1640s, a legal word,
"held through the favor of another,"
from Latin precarius 
"obtained by asking or praying,"
from prex (genitive precis)
"entreaty, prayer"
(from PIE root *prek- "to ask, entreat").

Notion of "dependent on the will of another" led to
extended sense "risky, dangerous, uncertain" (1680s).

"No word is more unskillfully used than this with its derivatives.
It is used for uncertain in all its senses;
but it only means uncertain, as dependent on others ..."
[Johnson]. Related: Precariously; precariousness.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=precarious>

tooth-rot persuasion-wise, I'as right.

Jahnsan, we assume Samuel or some other dangling
Johnson, says *******, who rides me

through the raison patch from time to time
so I can see the angel.

The messenger, the very one, told
the Prophet professed to be that lastest wit' the mostest

but un-propheside of precariousness

this very voice manifest aurally, in the
non-shadow-casting image of a pillar of light,

highbeams on a foggy night,
from far away,
then blam
headlights

the voice it said,
"Read".

Twice. Nada mas. Read. He heard it.
But he could not read, so
highly spiritual
was he --
post allakindaholyshit
to him, alone,
an angel of light, with new good news,
just in time,

write this down,
its
weird.Wait…
Wars could …

They could.
Wait. ( as we have, and may, yet.)
Wait,
I can see what the professed prophet can see.
I did read.
He could not.
Ought he to have taught? Who am
I to judge,

times and times and half a time,
that clock,
did it have an alarm?
Trust and obey, its the very most fun, Jeffersonian obediance, if y'please.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2022
Camping,
we discuss the stars.
Augustine's thesis depicts the history
of the world as universal warfare
between God and the Devil.

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

And my mentor,
once Balaam's talkin'assets warning vision,
bids me recall fools rushing in, where angels fear
to tread, eh, see the banner,
- agape. slack-jaw. Awe-some neighbor's flag
do not tread on me, I am already sliced to bits.
-it seems to me… to say, don't you read history?

Believe me, it was the mob, the mob maddened me,
yes, it did, it did, I think I may recall it did seem

they scorned the exposure,
when the curtain parted and the secret obsession,
became magnificent, if you can imagine
the torment of the unbelievers who must know,
now, how could there be unbelievers in hell, hell
one must imagine,
go look for reason to bring to the table

in the peace talks, McNamara was asked if
he read history, at all, had he never read
how this mind in agreement to be we,
the people who take life from
and give care to this land.
We remained free.
The land was taken, not our story.
Given to us by our ancestors, who taught us
the middle way, we win a war by fighting least.
True,
and lying least, being open, fishing in murky ponds
with lemon shaped frag grenades, the new kind.
plenty dead fish,

ten bucks a pop.
and there are those who swear
by these, a chosen weapon
for a wise man duel,

Elijah, drench the would, watch what we heard happens.

It was super-natural, no lie, but in this realm of words,
the burning in the bosum heated seven times hotter than wont

the image in the made up mind, said nothing,


The depths of not knowing, Kerouac,
had Moriarity, playing the role Ken Kingman,
plays in today's excursion into the wonder years.

I can decide I have the whole cast in mind,
people I grew up with, became the thing I was,
a being born to roam this earth's barren places,
picking up pieces of all that has been held in tales.

Intuitive knowing, often linked to a so-called gut
reaction, as when one is dared to dive into water,
which may or may not be deep,
plan for shallow, be ready for deep. And
dive, don't jump.

Jumpers believe, down deep, this dive-- blah,

no flow, so so slow, some secret sauce missing,
some means to an end in sight, some next
we land on our feet and, it is us, once more,

the year after Vietnam, when the war was still going,
but my part was done, I had been trained and rebrained.

Fitted with a military mind that found comfort,
in polishing boot toes and buckle brass, any brass really,

I once used four standard footlocker sized cans of Brasso,
to prepare a big brass bed for sale at the Alamo Thriftshop,
in Hollywood, on Vine, west side,
across from Hollywood Ranch Market, and the White Castle.

Burnished brass, is a beauty I find richer than Gold,
for many reasons I may put forth, conatus, new big idea
word containing sense of something at the core, more
than noise, meaning, yes, meaning
Spinoza used, and I may judge its use, once he defines his term.

What is the meaning of me, relative to the words in books,
billions searchable, by me, using tools I watched evolve,
always, sense first sence of sets in theories, kindness,
likeness, aspects, as seen clearly---

this is that, return of the king, the crowned head,
the wanderer, man and his horse and his dog, satisfied.

Moksha is the horse, Sati is the dog, I am the saddle *****.

Hand to hand hand grenades,
order out of chaos, leaves a dent, in tented tavernacle choir

concertina wire, I am on the outside of,
how does this happen, I might ask, but as you may have learned

this is a trope in a neverending story told to myself in solitaire.

And now, I spend my time thinking through it,
as it happens, using tech that is as magic now as ever was,

but part of me paid attention, in crypto-school,
part of me did endure the mandatory drill morse code
five letter pattern, random faction find FTA reoccuring,

the signal is hope, yes, hope we find the answer,
yessir, I put that on my helmet to say what we all say,
with these plastic forks with one prong, onward finger,
remember the answer was once known, we must tell the world.

That is why I fight, sir, yessir, very good, thank you,
three day pass bull shat, in front of god and eve'body,
just
but for foolish jesting, ha
like god don't make jokes, you ever seen a golden Hemoroid?
memineI Apr 2015
yes
is the answer?
or maybe?
or?
tell me what would you
say?
I hate to disagree.
So I agree even to disagree,
with a flexible
spine.
Mine is
of a yessir priority,
under wearing nothing not a thing,
I go off wondering,
how I got
here?
tread Nov 2012
I spread my influence on lives
And lives
And lives.

Each a part of every art
Surprise
Surprise
Surprise.

We rise at the sound of alarms on the dresser
So by 9 AM we can start saying 'yessir'
We fall back asleep at the end of the day
Like we just lived our lives through an era
Through an age

And each page read
mis
understood
By the reader

Finds itself-
Simon says
The picture is the leader.

I've made my point.
Ken Pepiton Jan 2019
if you ever read...

what if books were fun
and fun were good.

We could use words for fun, but

first, do no harm.

It's Okay

Life's such a book, you know. Like a book you know
like some people know 1984

or claim Proostian wit beyond the environs of Dooblin

It's all about finding joy
and enjoying guiding
Finders, who lost all,

out o' the maze, the fly out 'the bot'le,

Amazed atheists facing

Cold hard truth

No, joke, man, pulling your bling.
Out of the maze every body sees
In alienable un alien able right
Clear as day. Everybody.

You
(is there some cool new way to say
Comprehend with solid understanding
'side jes dig?) wentwiditdigit

Can you dig it digital retro key
Pre Pac man dude this is sir real

No ****. What else can you say/
Can you dig it, way down to the
Bottom grunt that was agreed upon
To use for containing one
Idea. Only one. Any more than one,
You are inviting confusion into you mind.
He can't come in without you invitate 'im in,
But when he do he'confuse the life right outayou.
**** strait. And a good thing, too. Times
Like these I find bumping into walls
Comforting, like
Everytime I hit the wall
I find the wall and the word
"few there be"
Finds it's way into me and I grin.
God it is good to be alive this day
In the narrow way
Far from the madding crowd
We may spend for ever with,
Grace being grace.

Yew E-ternal Sec Cur ity?
Why, yes, I am, if you mean
Am I eternally secure,
Oh yes, I am then and now
Let me say
If you sought to prove me wrong
You might wear a crown some day

Still whether instability of soul were
Even possible post mortality
We shall see what we shall see
You must love your enemies,
Whether you made them or not.
They got here some how or
Possibly, some why, but
Now
We must deal with them as we
Would be
Dealt with.

Yessir. Shouted the experts in war'round
About King Solomon's bed
Off wit'therheads.

Dodge that son, it's an old Alician trick.
Victorian, I believe. War
At the height of its glory.
Shame, so much remains when
It all should have washed away.

Who teaches war? Is there a reason any more?
Aren't we who God says we are or are we who
They think we are? Well,
They just might happen to be writing their part
Of this book right
Now and may
Be realizing peace's price's paid.

Jesus, what a handle, eh? Easy to hold on to,
Once you get a grip on good.
After that, what can we tell you?

The truth, what else is there, and more abundantly.
Living words.
I wrote this a year ago, took off some edges and found it holds water, still, after a while.
Dondaycee Jun 2018
Aboriginal Daytime
I never understood labels… fear as well,
It all appeared as fables and if it were true I’d choose hell,
…******, why do we fall victim to a linear language?
See, look, you already; -******; Kyi!,
“yessir”
It’s your turn to spell,
“Day is frustrated because of the word fables,
Because of how you conceive it, based off labels,
You take it as a “fictitious tale”,
Fictitious meaning imaginary, fabricated, or not real,
Most people are insecure, they have fear,
If earth is heaven, then this is hell,
Because he knows truth,
He’d rather experience pain than have the wisdom from terms like impossible or fail”
Kyi you’re always creating ignorance, give them validation,
“Day… did you forget that “we” experienced a graduation?
That’s rhetorical though… just a little medication,
Day finds it necessary that we turn our attention back towards the word fable,
Understand that; he doesn’t understand labels,
So when he used the word fable, his intentions were stable,
But humans think linear, from past to present, so his perspective was inable,
He meant; a short story with animals as characters conveying a moral-“
-We are victims who enabled ourselves to disable our ability to enable,
Who enabled our self; to give an authority to ourselves, one that disables; to turn off our ability to enable; to be aware of choice?
If we can’t see, we can’t look ahead,
Therefore the paradox is voice,
Because it’s an illusion,
The illusion of expressing your choice,
Because truth is, you already have,
You just couldn’t see the difference because of labels,
That same difference; existed in fables,
I had to reiterate it because I’m constantly crucified,
I’m misunderstood because I validate reasons to consciously unify,
I wonder if this is what it was like to live when you know who had died,
Because I took a reach and lost a hand like I had to choose a side,
I tried to teach and lost a friend,
Like why couldn’t she be a Bonnie, I would’ve taken a shot; if she cried; and if I died; I’d come back as Clyde hoping she remained divine, because it’s a crime to love when you choose a side; you lose a side,
I fought health, she fought self, I’m talking wealth without suicide,
She became wise and intelligent,
She is light and evidence of what potential is when you abide by it,
I remembered happiness and relevance,
Ignorance and arrogance but I became narcissistic when you arrived; miss…
Missed, you will be,
If, it is Yoda I’m speaking,
Double meaning if its solitude you are seeking,
Because them shots I took earlier backfired, now I’m obviously bleeding,
Looking for air, must repair time; I’m focused; perceiving,
Somehow I went from having a home to habits alone,
The death of me is with the best of me, because the rest of me couldn’t address what’s left of me,
Context clues, it wasn’t safe when eye left; contact in alone,
If I stayed in the past my last laugh would’ve came right after my last,
I had grew, I embraced a new path, I was contacted alone,
Because nobody called, nobody talked,
I was sitting in silence,
Then came Gaia,
She said “acid”, I said “that’s it?”, and every since Ye my existence has been timeless,
I  no longer have white fever,
**** was moving to fast,
My nose was caught up in a white girl and I couldn’t even keep her ***,
I tried to keep her balanced but still she turned green,
Truth is lie and lie is truth, if you couldn’t understand I would’ve defined the mean,
How do you live, is it yin or yang?
With the love or with the fear or are they both the same thing?
Are the polarities chaotic? Are you feeling demotic?
Are you hearing the otic and making it hip?
Are you in this illusion; a state of confusion, because the options you’re choosing ain’t me,
Because the green on the paper, is making me think I hate her, because the ***** that saved us ain’t he,
Females… they want the mind,
But men belong to time,
Both will deny this is true,
Males… Material Mind,
Girl friend’s in a line wanting to take the focus of the fact that life is just you,
She was just used,
He couldn’t choose,
She was confused,
And he was abused,
We decided to live, but she was backwards,
I’m only evil cause I draw back,
Dyslexic lid, she’s was bad words,
There’s a cut off in the dab sword,
Hell low like I’m exiting to enter,
High like I’m existing in picture,
I hope she stay hot, and continue to rise,
It’s a cold world, sinking is wise,
I hope she experience the storms that’ll give her supplies,
I hope she **** me before I ever give Advice Versa,
It’s Aboriginal Daytime; twin flame gon issing as Vice Versa,
****… I wish I heard her.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2017
Our reputation never had a chance
Since the fat boy did his dance.
Here he is to ruin the land!
Mighty Mouth's underhand!
He has never had a single clue
Not a thought for me or you.

He stays surrounded by some total jerks
Who always nod “okay”
No matter what he says he wants to do
No matter what he’ll say.

We should be shivering in our bikinis
He’s nothing but a modern Mussolini.

Yessir, everything he does is for cash
And his family is a bunch of trash.
Our country will be great again
But not if Mighty Mouth stays in.
Collins Carlin Oct 2014
If that's your mindset, I was wrong all this time
Another year wasted on a careless mind
And I feel fine, yessir, I do
The gallons of tears I wasted on the thought of
You.
Who's to say I'd run and hide
And who's to say I'd care
Who's to say I never tried
When it's
you
Who would never dare?

I spilled my heart out, took over a week
And not once did I reach for a bottle.
I just wanted to show you who I was
Before I had time to pin my throttle
In that short moment I grasped at faith
Believing life will go on
But God wasn't feeling that Good today
And dusk came without a dawn.

Once you have the best in life
There's only degrees of bland
Everything else is mediocre at best
Might as well die on my plot of land
Dis Po' ol'boy is rich as can be!!!....yessir !!! gots me a tribillion words at my 'sposal anytime I wants em o be.
Wk kortas Dec 2016
(for dana rushin)

Well, you’ve got have that moon-June thing;
Hard-coded into our DNA, after all,
But if you stop there and say Well, here it is,
You’re just playin’ chopsticks instead of concertos,
Or parsing out Monk on a Fisher-Price piano.
Story’s gotta live and breathe, see,
Just like you and me, got to have a heartbeat,
And if the tale’s told right, done truly,
Well, it’s a light goin’ on for everybody,
Be it little girls (getting the giggles
Or bein’ all mock-stern with you,
Finding a way to work it in some double-dutch rhyme)
Or old-timers, gray-haired and coke-bottle glasses,
Some of them all but blind, leaning on their canes
(But lightly, gracefully, like old soft-shoe men)
And one of them likely to chuckle softly,
And say Yessir, that’s how it is.
You tell it now, son—story’s big as a house,
Big as the whole **** universe
.

— The End —