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 Feb 28 zebra
Ken Pepiton
then the full corn, in the ear.

¿Has the seed faith evidence,
made the dedicated monk

useless, due to evolving knowledge,
horticultural returnings to old knowns,
bringing hope to survivalists,

intent on living on Earth, warless

for the ever after this?

No, fighting
for a faith that must be kept,
pristine, clean, cleared of science logic,
such has left all reason bleeding,
use the rags remaining from the old
folded and put away worlds
in storys held
stuck in the stars,
so we may remember, lest we forget.

Those who knew nothing as we ought
to have been knowing by Christmas,
all are forgiven, or nothing is true,
self-evidently…

washed, cleansed from perceived stains,
white as new-fallen snow…

Deep Mind white room cinema effect,
preceding the ever after this…

you be come this far, alone.
You be edging up on after all's

been said and done, what you did's
been said to have done nothing,

nothing, thus
nothing done wrong,
nothing done to no effect.
What a release life offers for seekers willing to bet there is more than mortality involved in making peace with priceless joy at having one more day...
I do not plan to exit meekly.
I aim to be drug into that twilight
Tightly clutching the shirt-tails of my life
Hanging on by teeth and toenails.
ljm
I love living and never want to quit.
 Dec 2021 zebra
Ken Pepiton
We know we know too much for any mortal,
to know alone, we first learned this fact,
as wishes to be, ur-ged us ity, we
stretch all of nothing, me,
the being unbound, fore thought, not
fore gone conclusion,
not play alluding words as gasps, ah
****.

matter doesn't matter. pfft. flip
anti-matter doesn't matter, pfft. flop

I fear
I lack a reason being as
I am nothing, ever begun, I am
as I think, I see, aha I thought this could be

but then
it was not, just
not I, ah a reply, a bubble in this emptiness

the circle is the symbol, id est nicht das

D'ow, duh, ****, split unfinition de-fine sifted
to this
first point made in shared reality,
we exist, not I, we, the people, the minds
attuned to knowing growing as we grew from
nothing, near total darkness, as permanent
event, with nothing in it, no in in it, if fact

if you wish to imagine nothing and never coexisting.
I made a set for that, the null set, where vain prayers
e vaporate, and precipitate the hope
once held, long enough, to be

today
we, the heirs of wind and time and chance,
just so special
with science, knowing, as we may
know, augmented as our mental
acuity
allows, we learn, as we grow
tools to twist in patterns
cogito exstantza
sense, which sense, slip my mind find
time in fact, with some things
living
in a construct, a mental image made up.
Up from bits
of attention, I suppose, giving order
to a packet of act
ifity occuring in the boys's room,
with a 25 year collection of Lego pieces,
and a few surviving Tinker Toys,
but not the real wooden ones,
plastic hollow stick, these plastic ones
shatter
when stepped on, leaving edges so sharp
as to pierce the eye beholding
the whole operation,
in innocent ignorance, no boy
notices the fallen Tinker Toy as a danger
maker, laying useless {but for harm},
or for making tiny holes

or cuneiform, yes, those could be made
with shards of plastic remains
from another era's best toys
slipping into Disneyified
recollection, yes, I  do
remember those army
men, and the pain
of stepping on jacks, I think as I sweep
my tinker toy memory trigger device
in to the plastic dust pan,
always close at hand.
hope 502 let's bet.
 Sep 2021 zebra
acacia
similar to me living between
delight and doom
waiting for the moment
of the moon to capture me in the right light
to glow in the depths of your unconscious mind
hoping you'd see me there
when the beat switches to night
when the moment switches to your mind's eye
willfully I make my face appear in a blue light
electric blue outline of me in your mind
in those eyes
shining in the dark
abstract ****** expressions abstruse limbic gestures
bouncing in a slowly motion
atmospheric dancing so your hairs rise gently on arms
so your  blue vein throb and blood rushes to your cheeks
so your heart beats faster when your mouth cups on its own
holding the indigo blue lines drooling from my silhouette
in your mind's eye, you hold me
and no one else—
in the daytime when the melody switches to light
the blue memory of me crept from your subconscious
is pulled back into the dark by a mystery force
and your eyes blink heavily and a conscious thought
of my brownness befalls onto you
natural and easy it seemed, wanting to recall the events of the night
the experience of the nighttime *****
the angel in your night
but nothing comes to light
 Sep 2021 zebra
Mateuš Conrad
the old pagan vibes have been aroused...
i walk into the forest
and i see faces in the trees...
i "think" i made it my purpose
to seek out lesser deities...
geniuses, angels... demons...
talking shadows...all they ever talk about
is geometry...
i have a heart for something: new... old...
i'm tired of this overhyped...
cosmopolitan Christianity...
i'm tired of it beyond concern for it's
already fated: dying breath...
but i also just watched two of the most
spectacular public events in recent history...
at the US open...
Emma
i promise to write less than Marquis de Sade
wrote... sure... insatiable was writing to him:
to alleviate not *******:
but he said it then...
if a man tells another man that...
women don't love *******?
forget me... i'm about to choke on laughter...
i've made drinking an ****-sized-event
in the past week because i knew
the only presence in the house
were two cats...
and i bred them lean...
ha ha... women... don't like to ****?
and a man said this...
to what? an unsuspecting harem?
men... or women?
   just asking...
me, personally? i've grown tired of the act
from the simple fact that
i haven't been engaged in it...
too frequently... or at all...
again: i don't mind...
i have found... other... ulterior: motives...
to satisfy me...
but? if i were given as much ****
as ms. amber i've drank... sure!
sign me up!
then again: no point teasing
others who might think i've had a better
share... of what they are missing!

what a spectacle though...
it was like a return to pre-trinity tennis...
a serve... a volley... cul de sac...
it was like watching a Sampras games...
it was the best 6 - 4, 6 -4... 6 - 4 i ever saw...
although on two championship points
i rose with a voice and said...
shut up you *******! cattle!
the h'american audience is the worst...
brittle creatures...
shut up! let the man serve!
stop implying you're trying to get
your money's worth by making this
a marathon of a five-setter!
******* plebs!

imagine! a pleb among the plebs...
let the man serve!
******* h'americans...
sports! sports!
if only squash was... allowed the same
stadium sized appreciation...
i used to play squash...
but then again...
like with any Olympic sport... beside running
the 100m...
if it happens in the shadows...
why bother?

the females had a great match...
at the US open... but... the men... gave closure...
women can't give closure...
not in sports...
just saying... it's important... it's not important:
the crowd doesn't care what opinion
champions another...
there's no dialectic in the spectacle...
unlike a football match... a team sport...
it's personal: but it's also... hardly...

but the coliseum is still there... no?
killing someone for sport... for game
has been gladly replaced with...
abstract *****...
with... tennis... a game structured around...
7 rectangles...
and if it is to be played proper...
a football team's worth of helpers...
6 vertical line judges...
4 horizontal judges...
an umpire...
and... no... wait... how many ball-girls
and ball-boys? 2... 2... 2...
that's... i lost count!

if only the audience could shut up...
let Medvedev serve....
but no... the audience will not shut up...
they're h'american...
******* yanks...
can't even appreciate a tennis match:
why should i like them?
is there some universal law that
claim: all h'americans... welcome?!
as welcome as Libya was?
i don't have a desire to like these people...
i'll sooner spend 2 ******* hours
on a tennis match than watch a movie...
i'll ask for teasing 5 if i get
a rerun of Ben-Hur...

             but i'll sooner watch a tennis match
than watch a movie...
i hate movies...
i loved movies... now i hate... movies...
moving ******* crates of *******
and nothing around the place:
mismatching shadows to actual forms...
no! that zebra shadow
will not pass off as an elephants form!
no!

is it the veganism that rotted these people?
or the wealth?!

MOTŁOCH!
they can't (treat) a tennis match
and not think it a team-sport...
something elevated..

while i was slaving away seeking
out demons... angels...
shadows... genuises...
this has had to happen!

pareidolia... lost term of making
announcements!
in the trees!
in the clouds!
                 if i even could!
in the wind!
                              
                    i don't believe in the Chrstian god..
i has robbed me...
hebrew ******* worthy of
the Frankish sacrifice...
           i now implore you
to die: your supposed death...
      now... revamp!
now...oh but the dead you are...
              no use for us... livid
with living.
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