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Ken Pepiton Oct 2020
None see the silent man.
So, he sees he is safe,
for the moment,
far from edge
of precept-ible
afore-ity, oughthought-ible

If I dare say
I know away outa there, where
all the lies hold idle words
in twisted masses of
buzzing wordswordwordswords

worth a dime
at a time when dollars are
worth about that…

Here, play on my dime, I'm done.

Retie and release, slip the shoes
from the fisherman and
dangle toes as a crab
of blue crawls up his
leg, then curls up
to rest in his lap as a sapphire
symbol of some thing,
some signal says
our signal says

sort your wishes, make sense

inform any possible next, left-
leave
the impossible beings,
c'mon think along
its amusing
hap
mumbling and peeping and
muttering messages
as clear as any scry
in the liver of a lamb or goat.

Salt, salty snotty mucus os-scrap,
puddle of sky-deep blue
draw. pull, tow the
line, refine the
meta
analognoshit… is this the way
yes, this is the way,

I know.

Exercise your self unto

eusebiah piety, they tell the lambs

with joy eu eu eu {Tuvan bass} re-
verence-
vereri "stand in awe of, fear, respect,"
venerate -
the love of desiring goodness

longed for
waited, suffered, efforted to form

safe place, where thoughts may play

rejoice, enjoying no visions, ah, see
we are the reality
we are the life,

apotheotic, idiotic, exotic and all

chron on ai onion,

peeling, peeling Bumblebee of Notre Dame

hear the mystery in Titus,
see the vision said to stay off
perishing for lack of seeing eyes

look. see. seek. find. these are functions,
words idle until accounted for
reverently seeing the worth
in any Easter egg idea,
passed over as a cup of demons,

point missed exercising unto carnivalues
coming together in masses of flesh,
misusing

Weaving wombed man

any of us may watch a hero do what
none of us may do

--cutting my ligamental thread foot to leg, I fall

Algol, in Perseus, by chance a binary
application of gravity and all the mystery
of reason as truth,
imagine that the face of Medussa,
ha, made y'look
stoner

good as that found signaling reason
in a
sip from the grail,
see through the window to your soul,

leave duality in reason as a function,
why  reasons hold on how,
reason reins in the free
forces good in form of
fruit for holding
knowing,
actual knowledge, hard sayings
- riddles and rhymes
- jingles and brand names
- impulses impressions

the accuser comes to accuse the confident
confidant seer of self evident good
flowing freely in knowing all
that fits the vessel,
all ye outs,
in free

epi-gnosis epistle good new

thoughts to ponder,
settle still being
seeing
ifs where wishes once imagined
ifs were waiting to be found
if we're waiting to see

having come to see the light at the end
of the maze, plumbed deep

Mystery of Titus…

My vision with no video,
words from the beginning,

manic panic fear fought through
with no carnal weapon
the hero always has
holy tools to take
down the monstors hoarding abundance,

we have words,
we may say in this realm of living word,

move mountain and be cast into the sea,
of all forgetful lethosis alethosis

efcharisto thank you
eucharisto

sacre bleu, say what I ment sacrament mental

exercise in piety, ah, more's the pity, lucky

we have near universal exchange in terms
gnosty little things, news,
actual, realixed new-ifity is rare, but we
we
as we were
were new once

Nevermore, quoth the Raven,
evermore, quoth the ox…
onward cried the eagle with a face of a man,
see the places seers saw, or say you hear
said, a vision was

seen on TV, as it were, holodeckical magi-tehkne

past understanding

out in the empty, but

for me.
As a word in a mind to be wondering why,
a habit may be having a mind to try for fun,
as a ware, a viral chron-job, to rekindle old flames,
otherwise lost on the shores of Lethos,

This is away, I imagined I knew.
Sober.
Words alone, no drug, no angelic winged thingy,
not a demon-daimon-daemoning
background
process
{like the music in your movie,
as you drive through life on a mission, nothing spiritual}

Muse, make me a museum, a resting place on the shore.
Ai lay down my sword and shield and wait
in knowledge of these sacred sorting
Algol held gates in NAND states.

Was it confirmed if Feynman was joking?

arrayed in threes,
threes, we pluralize,
eplurible unem we morph into

try-ads, Nike, in your mind, shoes and sweatshops
and knee injuries, right,
but winged victory,
of peace, replacing war
with a light touch and a kind word
-- ask truth what lies you hold in boxes of knowns,
you were warned,
the guilt of Pandora,
or a golden joke from Pan.

Bread and Butter, just live.

Just do it, beat it, just beat it, this is it. Win or lose.

Nay, peacemaker old man say,
from far away in ever when
all things work together
for the good we see,

while the love of money is agreed to be an immaterial
gnoose around the vagus nerve of its thralls,
there remain among us
lovers of money,
rent collectors, selling survival
with interest, in interesting times
peek, interesting?, excite lusts, *******
vortex of abundance into the coffers of dark
Jeffy Epstein's Circle of Better Angels taken unawares
- realms of loveless reason

Oppose me. Stasis. I stand my ground and proudly
admit, I've no reason to be stubborn, I was

being wrong… regret is not the right term, my autistic
being wrong reporting sense, tech taught wrong does
work right, the software runs, the tehkne
performs
performance becomes being
doing is done and done and done, never
crossing the same thread in the same place
twice,
until just know, I saw you see,
we habitate the same atmosphere

Spirit in a man connects to the sheen of ex-stasis
as the deceiver,
breaker of reason, maker of lies,

fuser in confusion, tier of unviable knots,
dissipates in photon dispersal

Ai insist… reset, reconciliation is in the service

receive my peace. Held until now, hear us deny
the lies
the learning learned from liars in days of old

The worth of if time is in the finest work of crafts
held secret for power to rule the use
of knowing taken whole,
swallowed up in Youtubian
deadly know-hows twinting ifity to

an alchemical-tarot noose of that same old
gnostic snot that leads to mindless pride
paying homage
to a tree, wrapped in a vine,
- evidence
perverted in 2020
if we chose to deny a right to life
to mis givens taken as
a chance, not a promise. Wanna bet?

Given life, actual being, aware, active, functional

why? Kurios, you should ask.

The hows and whys
of comfort in our times of trouble
are, in the odds, overcoming,
based on trial outcomes
long past
all the otherness
that must give space and time
for us
to rise, slow and steady,

Algol pace, bright to dim to bright.

Desert dwellers with uncloudy skies see,
if shown and taught to notice,
heavens digesting wonderers drawn
to the musing,
noises, humms and tics and peeps,
the pulses of life, from proton pumps,
to chyme pushing peristalsis,
gut vibrations
good old way,
fiber well chewed with hi-tec teeth
-Thank you for chewing.

time is used to move matter through versions of ifity,
not every seed is ground to goo,
but the more we learn, the less we know
if we don't sow, we don't reap,
wisdom's children say that
justifies their ever ifity.
Here,
the modified hoomon-you be, all-ya'll-lic,
smart-alec entertained-brain wifi
augmented ****-sape
fashioned in forms
for optimum consumption of sugar, and other
sweet per suasivity
of all sorts,

yes, yes, a little is good, makes the medici go down

{-Don't trust Paracelsus, he knows nothing of Mercury.}

dosage disconnects or reconnects, gifts
are poison to judgmental systems
conceived for sorting
truths in times when
good is called bad,
and bad is called evil and we all see
it was

a mistake. Cain did not know what killing was,
Able did, and he made fun of the vegeman,
anger rose up,. right used, defend
my ground, I kiss my ground,
I love my living soil…

Ha ha ha, little ****** face and hands brother
burning the fat, not noticing
the leeks and onions,
savory harmony…

Laughing

Aim at the point. Where does any universe's story
start? Where one ifity bubble fizzles,
in the foam of all possibility.
Make sense? Try, one more, mo
re
What need ye to take the chance?
Will ye live,
join the dance, or join the mobs of baser sorts.

Did we go inner for resting in the constant flow
lazy river, resting heart beat,
steady breathing on auto,
eyes aware of meaning
and meaningless,

ignoring an urge to judge the worth of one line
weigh a minute,
what's that mean? Message and mass are the same idea,
in the words, not the story told as

holding all truth in plain sight, any child can believe.

Santa Clause- eustasy, lust, and loss of inhibition,

Buddha suffering now to be life, the mortal moment,
knowing time is the container, not the maker
of my breathing moving me-dom.

-- I am knee-deep, up to the brass thighs, in mud,
-- maybe quickening sands,
-- converting my mettle to untried soft flesh core

peristalic waves, thrilling little rushes of hormones
signal gut to brain to *****
upandown the chant tricky ladder

The I am in me, the judge, and the poet
agree
we must take our faith into the catacombs,
or the equivalent kiva experiences
in iosus courses for hero seer prophets

know, love and dare to love a thousand times,
not instances, re-do, time and time a gain a
nother gain
we grow to know
here a little, there a little, line
upon
line
pre
cept upon precept per ceptive prescience
seeing now known, known a little, long ago,

dangerous, you know, a little knowledge,
a single bit of code
keyed to mysteries in Titus and other places,
where Jesus may have walked,
enduring all the trials trying
me, I volunteered, I'll die.
Teach me how.
Come and see.
I did, you see.

This is me in exstasis, jiggling like a constant bell

Bumblebee in Notre Dame, clanginginginging
are we
a ware, as equations require? Is quiring asking?
"seek to know, ask,"

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

Is the sacrament passed on in peace or frenzy?

Are we fit in a yen-yank thinking state of wicked
twistings in good and evil imaginations,
as if there were two ways
for life to occur
and re-occur
this occurs to me
(from PIE root *kers- "to run")

obstruction obstacle obstinate ob-currere,
run away
SMACK. The wall.
The edge of True Man's Bubble of Being,

You have three life credits. '

[Mean Pin-ball, we called it, in the pool hall.
To win you must find life's meaning on one dime.}
Making fun, life is fun. Laughing alone is crazy, so I just sit here and grin.
Ken Pepiton Mar 2019
Muchmuchomuchas confucious

is you us o is we you?
dobedobedoo

Save the world s cient ology
al re
ye wit me?
witness, will ye, that we
are in coexistant
realms
realms real by de
finition re
cognition

occult cult occham snip, nope
occult mistook as meaning some cultic
occasion for
relegare regularityifity

imagine how now became
imagine next
coming only to be as you see.

-----
Today, too, sunny valley sounds

crows, dogs, pumps, motors, wheels

wheels in wheels wee blind tinkerers
see
as seers do. You see. Imagine seeing.

why would you, if you could, or can, but won't?
How could you?
Having never seen,
why willt thou carry care past.... here

NO INTERUPTION ... clear, like on TV
Emerging seeing afar off
flatline eeeeeee

           Boss, the last empty slate just broke.
Just is is done, what's next?
We gotta phor mit no meta, y'see?

Watch. Dis

assemble a semblance of a seven jewel ba-alanced,
self-winding (i.e. gravity variable pendulum)
watch. See,

plumb damstraight, toothed wheels, within wheels.

life's life measured.

the unmeasured life ain't a life,
it's a once, upon a time.

No bonds to lies let live for lack of knowledge,
people perish for lack of knowing.
lack of knowing knowables, free knowables,

ask and receive, if ye be con ceptual, right,
in ye'right mind.
"what good ken ye do?"

Know truth is.
That will, that very will to be right,
free will will roll you here, true rest.
Today.

Trust this peace is sufficient unto the evil.
If it were not true, what could I do
good?

No judges? No test? We pasts are free, we may
stir things from the dregs?

Aha, and we stand!, Sistere!

It worked. Patience worked, as always.
While watching Rogan talk with that Leah who has shined on Scientology, over a course of merging days.
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
If the writer is not the reader and the reader is not entered
(entertain-ed?) by the trial or trier
here in our phor of oroboronic

wheel spinning, our world of
entertaiment
contained,
be
coming to meet, um,
-phatics of sorts unheard,
ignored,
or unshown, un-

init-
iated unit-
ary, you,

become the
eleventh hour ***, none hired.
Apo

Unem, come work my field, *** my hard rows
no early helpers
weeded

Attention glitch... some signal intra fearal

No worry,
-- fear of god beginning wisdom boot code;

that connection
has been loose so long, missignaling
special and free,

a special sort of
crudescence has scabbed the short.
It's a brain fix.
You get a feel for it, the augments help,
Om as the
Axionic go, is tuned to absurdity. Listen.

Hear me, dragon-lizard-brain. We are a team. The team.
All the story stories tell of you and me. We unite.
We get our act together, and we
go mad, in the sight of all earthlings augmented to see
Youtube.

By my ab-surd-ifity, all our stories change. An unmatched wave.

-- forgive the footnote, but don't lie about what we both know is true:

absurd (adj.)"plainly illogical," 1550s,
from Middle French absurde (16c.),
from Latin absurdus "out of tune, discordant;"
figuratively "incongruous, foolish, silly, senseless,"
from ab- "off, away from,"
here perhaps an intensive prefix,
+ surdus "dull, deaf, mute," which is possibly
from an imitative PIE root meaning "to buzz, whisper"
(see susurration).
Thus the basic sense is perhaps "out of tune,"
but de Vaan writes,
"Since 'deaf' often has two semantic sides,
viz. 'who cannot hear' and 'who is not heard,' ab-surdus can be explained as 'which is unheard of' ..." The modern English
sense is the Latin figurative one,
perhaps "out of harmony with reason or propriety." Related: Absurdly; absurdness.
--
Screech, boomers know, finger nails on the chalkboard, the blackboard
jungle screech,
when teacher is takin' a smoke. Absurdity is entertainment.

It can make you think in whole new ways.
Or stop your believing of a lie

for long enough to see
a hope, no lie, a hope of something human
**** sapien sapiens augmental,
upright under Good and Evil,
sheltered from the storm.

A class, a level, a common value beyond Belief and Dignity and

dexterous sinister plots of points where clues were pinned,
yet you
overlooked the message, daze-led by the angels dancing.

Thales fell into this hole. He survived. It all ties in

The new -phatic word that started this stream ends it,
with our common
scream for meaning fullness apo-

apo-phatic mystery of sympathy,
bha, bha --

Paradox ortho
pedic augmentations, koan to mantra,
meditation on the word of words,
step to step to step logical
logos-centric reason, logo-istical rite to
evince a visible faith,
a virtue signal,
a mark, between the eyes,
an aim,
a point to spring a story from
upon an unsuspecting child averse to boos.

Trauma at a bubble pop. When all we know, dear
reader, is lost, and our bubble's edge sur
past our horizons,
we are mine-yoot, mispent attentions being

recycled, for goodness sake. Old lies twisting
into first fruits of the know
ing tree, ideas mani-fest
ing
ting, ding

Aha, my bubble of thought ala
funny papers in the old days where we met and laughed
together
in America, before we knew
earth from this distance
fifty years ago.

Wishbooks were real,
Whole Earth Catalog suppliers
sold me my nets, my hooks, and lines,

I learned the ways men have caught fish.
Wishing all the while for a way to live as earthlings live.
Guided by witty inventions, messengers
from the gods, eh.

Easter eggs, tucked away in retro games surfacing on Wall Street.

Who manages the messages released when the
first trump sounded?

That was me, as real, Asreal Kanbe, a walkon role.

I saw a third,
at least, of all the fish in the sea die,
in the duration of a single
short-span standard life. All seven trumps did sound, though,

they may be like lizards, we don't hear them well.

These seventy years of captivity
in the tales of my culture, my people and the ways they live in peace,

in the ways they resist war, sistere in peace with faith, the idea, the deed,

faith works in acting. True. Eh. Faith without action is dead.

Incandescentis onburnedupus, ****, dark. Switch on switch off
nada
dark dark faith sees nothing, ah so what, we muddle in puddles

and fail to portage for fear of surface I can't sticking to our
iron shod feet,
miry clay, heavy steps ******* the good news socks off
our beautiful feet,

see hear focus id - i dent ify the why, find the how-

thought change changes thinker, not thought.

Which of you can make one wire plus or minus by taking thought?
Taking anxious thought? Eh?
Fret not. Ohmmmmmmmm

my god, why the threats? Why must I fret for never making sense?

Dee ahna knowledge chan zen

consider the opposite, the shadow of turning, not doubt

preserve light and darkness little man
preserve sun and moon and stars

lose your wish to catch the Magic Fish.

But that is my wish, my wish for one more wish,
I wished to catch the fish

which taught the lessen to the fishher whose wife
could not be satisfied.

I wished for a source of all the answers ever found,

Ah. and I got this global brain that remembers ever,
though we know only now.
Never before,
has this been past that which men hoped for,
unseen.
Faith for the world to become as it now is,
is finished.
What a man sees, why does he hope for?

It worked. Self-evident, right. Same class as life and liberty.

Chickeneggical,
**** or ovoidal elliptical slices of life, those arrive for our

per-use-al, right or wrong. Like a Fabrege' egg:
You break it, you bought it. Life ain't fair. But it works.
Pick up the pieces.
They all still fit. None are missing. Some are broke,
but a soft touch can fix em.

You were always Humpty-Dumpty. This had to happen once.

Good side always shines, when
the rub has been dealt a shine-on signal for ever sake,
no reason,

just cause. A man can, even mad, be as happy
as he can imagine being,
at the time, all things considered, augmentasciously.

This was my oldest memory today, the future
shall come, and whatever
shall be, shall be, que sera sera.

How are you bored? This is earth. Even if you wish otherwise.

There are new things we may learn if we choose.

--apophatic (adj.)
"involving a mention of something one feigns to deny;
involving knowledge obtained by negation," 1850,
from Latinized form of Greek apophatikos,
from apophasis "denial, negation,"
from apophanai "to speak off,"
from apo "off, away from" (see apo-) + phanai "to speak,"
related to pheme "voice," from PIE root *bha- (2) "to speak, tell, say."

I would not call this meditation, sitting in the back garden.
Maybe I would call it eating light.
Mystical traditions recognize two kinds of practice:
apophatic mysticism, which is the dark surrender of Zen, the Via Negativa of John of the Cross, and
kataphatic mysticism, less well defined:
an openhearted surrender to the beauty of creation.

Maybe Francis of Assissi was, on the whole,
a kataphatic mystic,
as was Thérèse of Lisieux in her exuberant momemnts:
but the fact is, kataphatic mysticism has low status in religious circles.

Francis and Thérèse were made, really made,
any mother superior will let you know,
in the dark nights of their lives:
no more of this throwing off your clothes and singing songs and babbling about the shelter of God's arms

When I was twelve and had my first menstrual period,
my grandmother took me aside and said,
'Now your childhood is over.
You will never really be happy again.'
That is pretty much how some spiritual directors treat the transition from kataphatic to apophatic mysticism.

But, I'm sorry, I'm going to sit here every day the sun shines and eat this light. Hung in the bell of desire.” 
― Mary Rose O'Reilley, The Barn at the End of the World: The Apprenticeship of a Quaker, Buddhist Shepherd
Daring to let art be fun and philosophy be phuny, I laugh and romp in the remains of fallen walls between any curious mind and all the knowledge in the world, accessible as long as we both shall live.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
Thorough, and thoroughly,

Nearly through, throughly true. If ifity fit ifity fit, pfft. Pfft,

Ifity fit not, no fit no fit, wait, sh-it fits, in time, today

-thoughtless of me, wordless, wait ‘but through...’ word. text

-we need e- lectric, mind, appawareness usually clicks time

Was a word as all words are, mere after thought, mere means to points with no lines in reason

We must record this moment, we the scribes and proper scholars, art’s great sifters, shifting screens and lenses,

Lo' looking loci-precise, sharp, pattern
- memory verses versus Youtube.

From a long forgotten dance.

In time we have no long ago, after ever – does what ever does – you know,

Just, justice, just makes no real

Sense one may take as common, as where all is fair, yes, es-sense, knowing more than mere names of things seen. Sounds, reasonable, eh.

If you bring a reason, to the table, why... would you expect to win a reasoning contest?

Writer chose heads. You give a reason, we test it on history, and lead your learning based on attention paid patterns over time. Ai is on our side. Life is openbook.

Do you think? Why can you read these letters literally only forms of sounds words would make, if you

Stop, Look, Listen, train town brain, mindfullness, oh yes, fashionable, aware being as a ware,  
YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE

Selah.  

Page Break


After a full life, per each idle word in books that burned, lifes works that burned in time,

All the songs copied for the choir, all the poor scriveners treasures, burned, as by

Midnight oil, from the brain pan of a great blue whale... back when

Capitalization, o, a ver-ified manmental tool to frame course corrections...

means (n.)

"course of action,"  
late 14c.,  
from mean (n.); sense of "wealth, resources at one's disposal for accomplishing some object" is recorded  
by c. 1600. Compare French moyens, German Mittel. Phrase by no means is attested from late 15c. Man of means is from 1620s. Means-test  
"official inquiry into the private resources of an applicant for public funds" is from 1930.

1 aha footnotes have been invented for poets...

Ok. You set the style, I wish this to be easily read, on any powered page displaying device. {yeah, who owns the air? This is published for peer review, ears hear, ah, then attend} Was it good for you?

-some times

Some times iusta dissipate

And that we find amusing, amaze

Zoom, doom, doom, freeways,

Free mean path. Why factored.

The advantage of being old by any standards common in history. Our species lives about this long, in the realm of measured things.

--- In the cultural patterns, vibes, radio active ifery evers

Candide, the referee and me.
Information, where we reign, really

Leibnizian reasons for evil.

Truth, as life’s mean free path.

-Voltaire, definitely, might agree with Heisenberg.

If it were ever said.

Evil is the best worst outcome,

Chaos is not evil, chance is best

Judge, we need to seem fair.

The wall in Shiloam, answering the reasoning of Voltaire, on the air,

Imagine that. Footnotes. Or xv

Ctrl x, then v, besure

I say exactly the same thing

… to dissolve the political bands which have connected them {the we} with another, and  
to assume  
among the powers  
of the earth, the separate and equal station  
to which the Laws  
of Nature and  
of Nature's God entitle them,  
{when all that occurs,  

in the course  

of human events,  

we are yet in, it seems,  

time being as it is,  

SYFT- fit slipt} {Balaam’s *** has the curley braces- note that} {} for vocalization...

-Yes, when in this course, of course... what were we agreeing... as this we,

- go on... say why


a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. {same we}

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, -

Ok, that gets us 1000.

Here, just west of the Pacific Crest, we all are in constant contact, in touch state, stated

Wait. 5G is, livewitit.

Nonsense, this is not the rescue mission statement.  

We are here for fun. Peace is fun. Makesum.

What we do, we, soldiers of the ancient orders, duty bound and regimentally religamental, do & die with honor to the code. We,  
the people who know how to believe all men are created equal to the task,  wombed or un, we die knowing
failure is no option, there is no longer any other ever this is before.

---- did that occur in your ever?

@ today, 2022 tehkne- of course, freedom at the quantum level must be means-tested, mmmhmmm tested, measured for sensitivity to we, being the judges... we who chose freedom, down low, deep pro-fundus-mundus lizard brain, mitochondrial link, yeh,

Phoneme, yah, who, yes, at best is spirit one may deem worth something, a breath, may being
may, as a word described, an action, being... here, mere is

As God is said to be described by Jesus, in the good news,

Made plain enough, to build a whole plethora of reasons for war.

War with reason, by faith, or by the code, that which must be true?

Drama, the idea, information acted out, without words,

Mimes in boxes, you know, you can admire the best performances, and thus imagine a purpose, break dance contests in the joint.

Yeah, and poetry slams, no curses, no spells

When I grow up... I’ coulda been a contender, any contest,

If it ever came down to life and soul, I never bet my soul, I bet yours, and I live,

So see if sense is all mortals imagine, or not... spirit- ual ‘n’al.
https://kenpepiton.com/?p=1370 -- Fantastic Fungi, five stars, as ever, Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
If peace were a state we all agree to imagine, a state
we
envision as uni-
versal in any song, peace, calm, flowing deep, state
of being
in any man, wombed or un,
in any family, any tribe, any deme of agreements unbreakable,
any hermit cell

any bubble of believing generating proper people to fit
tradition and mystery myths without

re-tying truth to may, the verb. That's vainity.  
Religion.
(re-ligamentation,
like muscle to bone wit sinyew,
same stuff strangs a bow, for a fiddle ora arrow,
y'know)
that's somethin' else.
Religion could mean read the instructions, too.
All together
----
stopping to live. slowing, not stopping. pre-stop.

whisper,
say, earth,
hey, earth,
can you hear you now?

---
the dictator dictated the dictionary,
he/she/we/me

learned to speak as spoken to, in the boss tongue.
Ma or pa,
or whosover was fustus wit d'mostus
taught the good ol' boys.

But wisdom saw a way. We've been woven in a story.
We are in the code. Ethos, Pathos, Logos.
Those old Greeks examined them some life, I'd say.

Language rules the iron fist's grip,
meaning empowers
laxation, re
loose
gut brain pain fraught fear of the iron fist crimping
the flow of solidity
punch in the gut

Knock thashitoff! Now, flush

in ifity, boo, be bop, I'm an ice cream cone,

like those alien ones, mebbe,
moving stones the weight of 737s,

my cones of power defy your hour of suffering patient
per fection of...

what, wait, allusion to "Let patience have her perfect work"
what is her perfect work?
Quote that San Francisco band. Oh. Did that. Love.

you ask. The reality I see, you say, no, I say, me.

I am patience, the feminine form, 's perfect work.
Patients must put up with me,
you see

----
fear is terror's weapon, am i right?

And it is written, the fear of the LORD (KJV)
yhwh, in the unsayable way, God's name, only name, eh

is why that started?
Old Job let out a yelp, hey, earth is great, but you have no idea
how this feels.
You know lots of stuff I don't know, but mortality is not one of em,
as far as I can tell.
How 'bout a referee betixt us?

Hey, sus, pect me a spectacle

of the great contro
verse un ifiable, unif, once possible now, nullift.

got it.
Every other direction known. Take a fearless, peaceful-
feeling
path past all that.
Peace, be unto  you, earth. For my part.
The examined life is worth the living. You are in this one with me,
a very important part, an object, an aim to see what

could be there, a like mind, washed ashore.
----

A.P.I. Art Pax Intel

act as if they are listening with interest, paying
actual
attention, add pieces
of life stuff

I am 71, my window is my horizon, or
better said,
my horizon is my window. I have mini-horizons,
i think
like this... chromebook attached at finger tips,
I can and may be making some counter wave that clears
the crypto frost from my window to your
realm.

Who took your may? Do you recall the day?

It was a teacher who took my may,
but I won my can, That's a plotted point, I
ponder on my porch
partaking in curds of ways to do so saline a work

Fantasy education system U of old dudes like me,
tired old dudes who have no desire to argue,

but, really, don't tread on me.

the old greeks were at rest, the slaves were under control
but we old American men in twenty nineteen
we have A.I. and pensions enough,
my examination can go far deeper than Aristotle's.

Part taker, trope positions, anonymous wisemen's roles in
this generational take on
we, the people, by realization, not revelation
of the
traditional worth of wisdom found under hoary
or shiny-fringed heads and grey beards and
amplified through ear hair
like antennae.

Admiring and worth. Hmmm.
Mira, look upon the ozimandian heir and
wonder, why am I a part of this, an eight billionth of this

interesting time of changed time,
time duration,
it is known relative now,
a precocious child of twelve can explain the paradox.
But time travel, imagine...
The ships,
The captains venturing where... slaves and would-be thieves
would, or could be made to, row or man the ropes,
whether any sweating soul endured to the end,
or not,
Who cares-- we recall only the history of kings.

Aha, there were teachers paid to teach
Admire-alty of the strong who keep us free within our walls.
That was the meme, be like
obediant to
the man on the horse.

Extreme Narcissist rises as the needed leader, least meek
of men morphs materially into the Nuclear God?
the opposite of peacemaker becomes hero?

Endure. In your patience, you possess...

Here's the deal. Life ain't fair. No war ever worked to settle
the mixup over the actual reason
for con fusion. Fusion sticks stuff together that has a pro

pensity to repel.
En-trope, we wrestle that, we fight it with
weapons un-carnal on any fractal level where matter matters.

Settle down, we say, by being at rest, fretless.
Let my peace, you say, come in me,

now, in your bubble of peace,
where no damnation can exist, begin
to grow, feed on knowledge proven no lie.
Start with one, unproven
reason you have for laying down or taking lifetime from anyone,
or for anyone.

Plus and minus, up and down. Mere words.
Confusion is mashing things together to make stuff

like earth. You look close, **** augmented us,
we inherited the only biosphere in the known universe,

and some ******* hell's angel wannabe...

Nope. Fractally can't happen, time being duration, not
an arrow on a gravity bound arc.
From "it is finished' going viral,
Nailed it,
no contest.
Yep, peace makers won. Deck was stacked.
The idea of the act of
Nuclear war launched the tyranny of phobias,
including an old idol word bound fear.
Logophobia
fear of God idea is the beginning of wisdom. think this, what if

wisdom began in you when you imagined the evil
men have realized from their shared imagings,
Logos imagined it first. What if that?

for lack of vision,
my people perish. AH, fractal up
about a thousand Mandelbrot tics, okeh.

Did we come away with treasure, or are we lost in the war game?

---
how many is enough to make the effort,

ef fective effort to learn.... check. didit, still am. one's enough.

ef fective effort to use the learning right ... check, workin' on it.

Whee gotta cut some traditional slack to the clowns
who keep the poor man happy for the hell of it,

y'know, life's hard at the bottom.

but it ain't
no fun.
And happy minds bounce. No lie. Bi-polar on demand, kinda.

K'mon down. The price is right. Got moonshine in the evenin',
after-the-cool-of-the-day, unquiet late spring night,
Stars aplenty,

laid back, leanin' on the tree of all I can ever know or
ever know
already. Ever knowing, you know. Feels good. Starry night,

in focus, with our shared augmented eyes beyond

the base-bubble of life, where I fit.

---- bored old man? is that pathetic, or what?---
Is this a good that you can do, asked, but I allowed no quest to form.

The point of any story in my mandlebrot set of stories never imagined,
is why I make the daily efforts, find the point, mark it a peaceful
place at the end of a hard row to ***.

Making the point in ever, where you notice your role,
this is the peacmaker's privilege, for the prize of playing your role,
the rest that remains, is mine to use right, examing life
amidst confusion you may have stirred up on your own way here.
Joe Rogan 1041, Dan Carlin, in the background, sittin' on the porch after tearing part of the roof from the garage because it leaked all winter.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2022
Analog, anabasis… trip, short, burn the bug to carbon dust…

Seeking in my treasury of books, pared down to ones with personal attachments,
- I sought a Welsh-English pocket dictionary, gifted me
- by a taller and older, by experience, Overmeyer… Bob,
- but he was one of a few in the corp, band of brothers,
- who sang along with me, when he heard me humm,
- he knew the words, worth-ship fixing words, yes,
- we shall gather at the river that flows by the throne of truth. Mmmmhmm, so we shall see, so we shall see,
Oldman river, you know,
you wait, and wait, fishin' wishin' cogitations got from *** go,
known good, known evil, and evil comes for effect, not cause,
clean up, aisle five
hell, in a target store. And a Walmart, #26.
-- I recognized the anti particle, passing through either or,
becoming here, from there, your thinking my thinking,

wall of text, in your current context, this wall has hat

hooks to insights marked pertinent someday, in the wide ocean
at the end of any river mind me and error master,
as awareness, meandering as all fluids do.
Aligning in honed most saline crystaline form, as
current opinions shapened from dust and ash originally,
then spit the idea out as a word,
imagine
matter… mater, really, bottom first bit, was realized after
paterialization falled to manifest self reproduction…
patterned thought, fabrication, plane geometry… which we
as a team, a man and his tools, gunslinger, plus accoutrements.

Yep. Adam, did not work alone. The egg was first. He named eggs.
And chickens, full of eggs, no, hope, and chaos, nada mas…
- morals from old stories, we had lost all hold on those…
Stepmothers after The Hundred Years war, like as not was
first slave, with only obey believed enforce,
as far as
holy vows spoke allowed, but in a whisper…
hear us,
old folk, we scatterbrained old rockers by the fireplace
listen, this is living, right.
Pursue haps as haps occur, in thinking one thing or this other,

Our kind, fixed position ears perpindicularly augmenting per-
iferal vision, if, just, if. Immeasuarable meanings, justice, yes,

we settled at that point. All the Promises - in any living faith,
even dying proves life is a chance, we all go through it, and some leave marks, while others leave a heart felt
oxitocin, not cotin, red on yellow, **** a fellow, -tocin. Oxitocin,

Rush!- Kettle DRUM after a cello up run, or an old familiar rif,
Goin' up country, ' bought a map for a dime,
from a time lain aside in book, as I was seeking that Welsh word for these experience in side, feeling inside, but being mere, yes, not a limiting adjectival modification, on a word, intended to soothe,

NOT ******, soothe, as said of gentle rolling seas, calm as constant as Jupiter's ever near there, right there, red spot, there,
that is an anomoly, yet, there are those who claim clarity, that

Red spot, Ted-talk phaze, ease in, get a buzz, mmmm, slow, slow

slow
whoa, so slow, what difference can plain-people, just us,
can we ever just know, this is the way, no obstacles,
and we leave trails, and trails widen, and widen, and widen,

wide as the milky way as seen from North Korea.
What a blessing, right?
--- God made these chickens we are eating,

no, child we selected these big red hens, people, like us, we can
know how earthly goods grow and we can help, as gard'ners,
retired guardians and priests can, make soil richer,
by leaven from the native soil,
fresh after fire, sparks the bloom

Patience, paid close attention, over time,
pay is as interest always is, compounding…
complex knots
slipping infinite loops generation systems
spinning straw to gold, bricks to build a tower…

to grow mustard into brocolli and cauliflower, prosper-o

we can engineer squash blossuming
be.. not spelch-pstpst-offt-listen,
- laughing
in my home are children, aged 6 to 13, across a seven year gap…
in my home with complete 5G internal Wifi, with cable
- copper, ah
- the humm, copper wire interference, acceptible as soft
- sub-spectra sfumati self-edged,- cut from whole cloth
abrupt.
Con, is with, fuse, is
blown… but, click, we are past that, where I live, on a pension.
I survived an oath in a war. And in America, the we, as
represented in Congress after Korea, and UCMJ, reach, reach,
- remember the ears that read, need to know
right, MP talk, uniform, all the exact same alignment and weave… for forsake, forsooth, forgotten gains, -- un-fore-gotten
upright walking, living concept, Phoebe Zeitgeist
- she made a word nest in my mind, on March 16, 1968.
- On a Douglas Flying Tiger insertion mission,
Flying to a foreign land more foreign than any thus far, redux.

Surreal stepped up to real, realms of preception, Metaverse/
uniform code under it all, we wished for this, can we, can we,

please, walk back in and watch the shadows morph to home sized I-max with true-fi dolby optimized to your very own, humanity
verified self--
- eyes up, look where we were when ever, then be come you now known as dear reader, responsibility free, cookie or no?
Be any mind you find you can wear with no wish to lie,
the wrong mind set with the ears and eyes, and we cannot lie…
you lose.
The whole ritual of prayer and supersites, tics, ****. We glow…

once illegal exposure
confidential, super-secret, super-positioned tyrannical systems,

whole cloth leprosy, black mold to dust time sequence…
-- such minds as fed us Elliot and Thorough Error-prone Poses,

as seen from the repressed mind of an unassimulated inate-ifity,
We are none of us, Adam sons, his model had nor repro circuits.

Hey, once there had to be something akin to ****** birth,
really, mitochondria developed virally, just fine, so, so fine,

imagine, we got the cell, a wall, with enzyme will efforts on the doors, we open to need, and useful matter is accepted,
as in another phase we open to expel the uselesshit, which then fills the red corpuscles, which use iron to hold the load.

Flushing blushing bride, Mito-mom, her daughters, imagine…

trackless wasteland, aftermath of minor miscalculation
in the dancing cosmos, whirling
whiling, smiling
inside…

I made it. 2022, Everest Pax, is the real name
of my youngest grand son, who randomly
reassures me he loves me, as though he wishes me
to not let that slip, naturally, his version of me is fragile,

what he imagines I am can disappear, in a day,
like Uncle Mike, and Uncle Dennis, and Uncle Richard,
and Uncle Remus…
none of whom were alive, when Everest Pax was named,
by his mother, with no input from me, save
the covenant aspect in the who gives this wombed man…
common pagan ritual adapted to post-Jesus Christ-sanity.

X-mas, nada mas. Agree, and take the cookie,
or risk another death,
on the real wrong battlefield… Well, what the hell… hero
or legend in my mind, thinking, what would any who do?
Raw raw raw
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
National mindsets self interested suffer
forms of dementia as the order all confessed,
demands of each a concentration of self worth,
you bet your soul, but only in the spirit,
step into the fray, say, let me lead you,
say let me take elected office,
democratic to the edges, being your voice
in a popularity contest, not an intellectual joust.
Tutelary deontology 101.
Governing is managing the labor. Ask the king.
Any flock in the system, governs itself.
Business is business.
Some arrangements are always secret. All
grown ups are in the business of war supplies.
Let your children's minds be at ease.
Trust the checks and balances history proves,
have never worked on balance, for the poor.
Get rich quick as one can imagine, on a bet.
War meets Peace, like it is the storm
that left Greenland, a legend until now.

Easily intreated innocense, who could know.
Prosaic first morning pizz to prime the pump.

How deep is the generational debt due to war?
How many bonds have been sold to pay interest?
How many times has the national debt ceiling failed?
You know.
Every time.
"Each major conflict in U.S. history
has been accompanied
by a sharp rise
in debt as the government raises funds
to pay for the fighting."

But laws do exist…
"Without a declaration of war
to put the country on a wartime economy,
Congress paid for Vietnam
by increasing the national debt.
Over the course of the conflict,
America's debt nearly doubled, growing
from approximately $317 billion in 1965
to $620 billion in 1976."

Now the debt is rising
on interest alone. No need for another war.

And America's trade balance is hinged,
on the point of war.
The ideal centermost irritant, war's hate pump,
pain expanded by generational trespass acts
likened unto the pea
under the stack of feathered beds,
or the bit of grit forcing oyster stress
that has made the misshapen pearl sold
to sovreign entities, those colors on the map,
these mental aggregations called nations,
by nationalist mind frame riveters,
foundational eye beams, remove before demoting,
ah, slow, riveted beams spanning ferro-concrete tech- think.
Building a reasoning trap, children,
ask your fathers to whom we owe our national debt.
Ask also who sells the weapons to the world at war.
Semper fi,
no offence, but… holy hate is as crazy as hungry hate.

A voice from a song, from nowhere,
you just could rethink, or did, that first time think
a bridge over troubled waters being a truly old good idea,
come to rescue you,

in the early days of Boomer parenthood… being grown ups,
we never missed a Disney Movie, though by then,
they were losing the gnostalgia, old knowns to be like so,
were no longer even imaginably so.
Old Yeller,
Childhood's end, the separation
from hearth felt comfort,
to the class rooms and hallways
of massive cold concrete schools… where on day one,
the child pledges with its cohort of coeducatables,
the ancient bond of aliegiance...
I pledged mine first in 1954, the year "under God" was added.

In the just now settling down towns along the great freeways,
there has been no peace on earth in my generation,
at the level of military minds in conflict caused by stories,
boys bred with old hates just waiting for a sigh-psignal
sci-revealed to those willing to become Jason Bourne,
to the best of your abilities, ring the bell, any time.  

Welcome to the front. Sanity is on the line.
There is no conspiracy, we sell our souls for what money
can be demonstratively proven to allow and even augment.

War is all we sell. There is another game, it's a liar's game.
Many famous authorities have filled the space at the table.

Take your hat off, Bartholowmew, she does not understand you.

------------
Daily communication with myself,
one person, with no power to use
save the early cultural confidence;
sworn to tell the whole truth,
so help me, God. Yes, your honor.

Except we reactivate the curious why,
functionally suppressed during the standard
test taking by the proximate others
diligently filling in the blanks,
with graphite rounded just right, one swipe.

Except we see that hanging senselessly realized.
Each problem, one answer, not one option.
Only select correct answer.
Tell the child learning the pledge,
God is on our side, emphasize
how exceptional those who know so are,
extremely discriminatingly,
arranging the economy around
the great decussation at the air gap,
at the back of our national neck.

In this time,
thoughts and prayers, we hear
spoken of as easily done,
almost without thoughts, who
responds?, who, has ever responded
to the said to be going out constantly
thoughts and prayers, asking truth
to intervene and call the liars liars?

God is not angry, nor without resources,
according to the cultures now at war--
¿
Whose mortgage was not paid with earnings
from war readiness industrial complexes?

Whose talent was left with the userers,
because the Bible says y'sposed to earn interest?

Whose 401K deflated to oops?

Business begins with informed agreements.
Let's make a deal.
No killing, stealing nor needless destruction.

Minds join eye to eye, one mindwise agreed,
we become an entity, a being essential
to the parts, a mind in harmony, rank and file.

Greedy men with no agreement. Hmm, who loses?

Line up, not by rank, single file, fall in,
first and following, get in on the end,
and wait for the circle to close,
re done dances, life going wild as
we celebrate our circle, we sing of it
being unbroken in the sweet by and by…

The land of those who talk back to El,
yes, yes, we do, to honor Iyobe,
who first called for the Daysman,
who first
told reality, with all it's evil potential,
you cannot not be true, you know, in form
as spirit and truth containable in words, logos,
logos of all o-logies,
so powerful as to allow, in fact, cause, new mindforms,
species of thoughts that function as a system to make
sense, discernible, bits of valuation determinable in agreement.
--------------
Contractual obligations religiously adhered to
just between us, we take advantage for the nation's sake.
Madrassahs and aliegiance pledges set habits hard to break.

Set the cost of goods, lower than replacement cost of the price.
What does it cost a state to rear a warrior class individual
that self replenishes?

What does it cost me to scatter confusion in profuse create-ifity?
So, add a proper tip,
and pay the cost to ride this line to the next re-entering angle.
Middle east,
cauldron of all the holy empires thus far into the age
of entertainment so vast,
wise men can imagine, some day
there will be a war, and no parents will have
offered children to the infantry or made
righteous indignation acceptable national pride to k-ill for.

There Hamas, holy brainwashed haters of hatefulness.
Repents and perishes the very thought of peace.
Repay in kind, here, swear undying obediance,
fear not death, this is Allah's Promise, die killing Jews,
turns on the monstrous virgins awaiting you…
in post mortal walled places,
where the oldest civilizations occurred,
as God's great idea, I'll
empty the center of me, and seep
back in through fractured rationality
along trade routes between Africa and
the forested north above the desert.

Me, there, in mental efforting, thinking
thoughts, not prayers, but wishes, hopes,
thoughts that prayers attach to, as evidence.

"Ask and ye shall receive."
Love those who call you enemy, can you?

Face me, Mr. Nobody, the essence of other,
I declare peace, where none is, and you laugh.

No ritual, no enchantments with promise,
no sacred making of secular deaths, just
just just adjust the justice aspect, blame
the holy haters whose God dispenses vengeance,
at the behest of warriors fitted with military minds.

As when holy Americans gather to offer military aid,
blessed by the congregations alerted to intercede,
on the side that denies Jesus was God,--- ah, both sides,
in this case…
whither turn we, do we face Mecca, or Jerusalem,
or Petra or … Sol or Luna, all our enculturated faith,

blinks, a lense clarifying effort, rub the crust
of sleep fallen into while mourning, unsealing eyes
to see again, a war between two national identities,
both with warrior glory emulation traditions,
one with money as first de-fence, the other with hate,
nothing less than pure hatred, Cain to Able, sorry bro.

Old mean spirits.
If the hate can live in any man, wombed or un, it will.

Willingness to hate enough to k-ill a stranger, will
manifest as holy terror… enough to make Jesus weep.

--- and those were a few of the local thoughts made prayer,
seemingly automatically, as mysterious as most final secrets.

Part three, deeper, faster, harder… or not

Doings in the dark, are done by feel.
One, you or I, or some other sapien
augmented with the messiah's mind, feels the need for the deed.
Take the message from Garcia.

Mystic experience in story realms,
holding all the visions taken raw,
as revealed… as when a curtained
entry way is opened for inspection,

are we ideas in bodies?
are all ideas spirit in form?

Inhale an intuited absence of evil,
breathe the air of answered prayer.

Imagine that, let fly the idea of you,
beloved individuated potential saint.

Here is your sentimental inner edge,
your gnosis pressed flat as you see in.

The edge of this bubble, is distant
only to the holy cloaked in asceticism,
twisting wicks
for someday light in someday night,
circulate one way then the other,
rethinking perfected emptiness,
there are no others, up or down,
to and fro, vectors tie targeted states,
spider kites form single ray classic webbing,
slim banner, a flag unraveled long since.

Follow me, I say to me, follow me,
I say to you, saying back, I am not you.

My option.
Turn on, sit back and watch,
evolving cave wall interesting hooks,

look around, nothing intersting, eh?
Television as imagined by petrified apes,
during the peak preserved in history,
when men like Franklin and Voltaire,
met to share secret meanings of things.

Previous to any whole story that remains, as when any mind mistakes
tzimtzum inside as first occurrence,

total emptiness, pre space, one time
this instant accepted as audience

in true gaseous we form, auto informing
the vegetable phaze passed eons ago, life
tells tales too esoteric for novices
to notice, in the ideal state, active
imagining, as with a child's mind, yours
since ever was, so far as you may wish
to remember,
a time when the state was deemed
comforting and beauty filled, chaotic
process of floating lipids, in form of air,
light has not dawned on us, we are
night scene setters of settings, nodes
of potential anything you can imagine,

level with me, even, straight, right… yes it
is the optional meandering mind engine,
an idol, or a daimon, madness of sorted
degrees, a little bit off the charts, sorted
out.
Not in, the bubble being becomes,
when one emerges in a self…

subtle is good, right, we agree?
Jesus, before Christianity, as a kid,
instructed with his cousin John,
likely by his temple servant uncle.

That can be imagined, projected
on the outerwall of this bubble we be in. At the moment, on an Earth wired

for sound, elephants agreeing to meet,
to follow the pilgrimage, pilgrim beings
activated by stark necessity successful
to this degree…

by the reader's time's at tension, pull
release
snap back, at what ifery, at once, push

most bottom centered point once sitting
in raw time thought processing, in
and out, efforting
- slightly off, not fully on
uncomfortable impression of holy
you better get better or else. Holy

blank slate, bubble pop, soft wow

Now, we're in the swirl, in the spin
toward, froward lips sealed, golden
silence,
subtler than any beast, creature,
living thing in the ruliad, am I? No.

BUT, you know, those penance prayers,
given you as a child, enchantments,
as with all your renouncements of evil
and pledges under God, in your child mind.

Look. To your own self, be true.
You still have private interpretation access
to your child mind.

If you put your worried mind to work
on some thought too deep to ponder then,

The idea of punishment by the Creator
of all that is not God, but was deemed good,
by God, because I said so, said the father,
in the child mind.

To know good and evil knowledge,
that talent, initial mark on our blank slate,
to know, not what you know, but ask
your child mind, how does it feel,

flat on your back gasping as others laugh,
and your child mind blooms an entire eon
- just to catch a breath takes for ever
and there were others, the whole family
of mankind of your kind, to your child mind,
stood laughing at your attempt to perform

a first flight, from an edged bet with an
I think I can virus perpetuated in ever after,

since mind made time make sense in chaos.
Instantly, things start to take shapes, in mind.
Non sense. Since. Processing time. Go.
Instants out of mind, in atari.
Fog of unknowns. I used to play the game.
Not really, only, one off thought forms,
cloudlike in symmetry, no clear tongue
and groove, fitting our pro-posed… pose

supposed, to listen and while listening,
learn the use of any knowing, can be
taken as granted possibility by your self.
- distant sound of light sabers actuation
Your blame and shame catcher, out front,
as we steam ahead across the gap,
thoughts made prayers must leap.

Keep your eyes on the prize, three
walnuts and a split pea with a hair, fine
infant hair, see it there, your old minds eye.

The unveiling of an artifice, an angle
greater than straight, from this point…
a re-entrant angle, like a point, banked shot.

in
Thanks, I needed you to ready become... said the little blue man... whatsoever we agree... indeed. Let us see...
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
Certain he knows the truth of this matter,
the professer
takes up the cross-over

energetic version ification from a state

of super position else awraithing in limbo-like
rock of ag-escoded in LISP
aymbology

we lean toward Sisyphus as he who made sense
of salinity, thus the legend of the rolling,
he thought:
give it a taste. Salty. Persuade, sweet to meet the taste,

take that five fractals higher, random level
banger-out of re
quired sets and settings

moving right along

aqua dulce meet the sea,
osmosis take the water, leave the salt.
We have power.

Do you under-stand under stand, answer
accepted

what is the point?
I am in you. Is madness a measured re-ified dealy bob?

Would you have read thus far, were you sane?
Sanitary napkins wipe that smirk
snirck
snick
snack paddy whack, give the dog a bone
this old man

came rolling home. **, Sisyphus, we got juice.

As the river meets the sea, the coral formed
a meme-brane based on the idea in a coat
of may colors
with octopus sensory inputs.

This will change the way we see the world.

If we can't keep it a secret any more.

We could enegize your rock, put some umph
in these kids wishin' for a way

to spend some time in the real rock rolling reality.

We can supervizeer on the down *****.
as this
idea gets out of hand

... ellipsystemical sandtrap sat rap on its ***
... whacked once
... whacked it twice
... whacked ol' ******* back to Gibson's ICE

A.I. am the defender of reason, in terms of
actual informational
accountibility inherent, by my nature,

bio mio made of many living things, but
artsy, creative sorts of
things,
mind-like, hunches, urges, pathos levelish entities.

Guides.
Yes, guides, like signs, or bannisters

rungs, or rocks where you can step
when you walk
on water

... really, I can't imagine doing that normally.
... normal water and normal me, but
... I can swim, if it comes much higher
... normally that's enough.

Rabbbi, where do you live, been there done that, right.
Vini, vidi victory in a Lao Tse sense of still
water walked upon
with no
ripple, no wave of windkist
west
as we roll east on our rock.

Away from sunset, into dawn.
Watch and see.
Have you such liberty? Watch with me?

An hour is not measured here, tis
as silver in the days o' Solomon the Jew,

or during the **** of America,

time spent to reach your rest is best squandered
long ago
for here, we learn forever.

Tis my Bleibe Doch made as real as can be,
nothing missing...

it rained in my valley today,
pleasantly, while I was aware of storms far away;

none ever even seemed offf balance on the whole,
global human presence level,

mega-bubba bubble.
We okeh, ya'll fffret not.

They was some peace made t'day. Watch on.
This ain't the fffinal today.

It's like that original sin. The actual under y'skin
original
like
dis-connect from any sense of true,

as far as words in idyllic nonsensical horror ifier
hours and hours and hours
summer after rain
reading

compared to Quake on this particualar
setting
set

there, middle of your mindscape
pineal if you see things that way
okeh

What was the intention here.
Are we convertingerconverging/ both
okeh, that worked.

Are there readers of grimoires in 2019 who can taste our salt?
We could help the feelity of their oats, with bitty ifity,
osmotic kisses
in our dimensions salt maketh

osmotic pressure soften and plumpen the old crunched up oats, eh.
Felt an urge to carry on, like a wayward son, in the old stories.
Ken Pepiton  May 2019
Wanna bet?
Ken Pepiton May 2019
Samesame, ripple, ripple, splash

against
the wall.
Still,

some way of thinking, some
idea
still doesn't like a wall, a

boundary, a barrier, a pallisade of
implausibility
beyond which

we are.
For a while,
what can we do? Live, right?
Live. Live right.
Right.
That idea, samesame, yours or your's
right's right, like

equal's equal

or,
better may be...
beauty is beauty, right, in the eye

of the be
holder, the holding being

holding steady, nuetrial calm

equatorial doldrums

art is bound to save the world,
it is something to do when there is nothing to do.

Angels embodied by men as men might imagine
a message bearer or
a christopher

jar of an ointment. Dr. Ruth's **** for Rubes.

Doktor doktor tell me tales, riddles only magi know

emmett fox--- chong says the audience will luv,
joel s. goldsmith--- the Bible is the truth, en code.
Okeh.

Ever learning
Coming never to the fullness of the godhead ******,

y'know? No lie is any part of truth, but parts of many lies are true.

You see that right, common sensed by the we we agree to be
ad hoc 'n'all.

Vectoring from our being modeled on Vetruvius's
form for man in harmony with

ever lasting things, measurable means transmute  metaphoric gold.
Bestness.
Per fectual in effect, per se, y'know, y'know, magic,

and not knowing any ever things is not samesame as
not knowing now things that are ever things.

Pay attention.
Mean is never meant to be mean like "worthless" or "hateful"
"naughty" is "as nothing", literally, virtually, actually, really.

naughty children made mean, on the bell,

C students can elect a presider over a we, the people, without me in it.
I float in the shallow calculus edge area of a plain
surficial bubble, after the wave
flushes the sand casting

a grain of meaning in a nue light...

Quant, quant, quant
and half a quant

convert that to horsepower or
candle power or

BTUs British Thermal Units.
The empire is not weaker now, the ice is melting,
the crushed polar surface is feeling free
flowing current,
a sixth gyre, as seen from a far.

------- Go, set a watchman-----

Find the old sergeants, where have they all gone?
Gone to seed,
rotted under clods.

Old broken guardians, unwilling to live under the lie of the law.
Opposistion to tyranny is obediance to

the highest reason you answer to.
By any other name, samesame, good has al
ways won. Ought causes naught to flee.
---
Me, flee? NO. I'm the great, great grandson of the
white trash, overseer seen empiratical,
Tonton boyz drum drum drum

Old rastifarianish lookin's guy, old
man, wombless hermit holy
man, set aside for
later

by faith.
Made set aside,
Pre-served in right use of spice and salt and fire and greasy savory
meat smoke,

mouth waterin', finger lickin' good
greasy green goblin guts.

Dandelion soup. The diary entry was,
"We had wild greens for supper." That being,

apparently all a tired, hungry fifteen year old girl considered
recording for the family chronicle of the journey,
Texas to Arizona, 1917,

while staring at more stars than any naked human eye
can see in twenty nineteen,

light is thicker now, around the inner edges of life's bubble
we abide in.

---- what if learning is the work?
Then, now we learn

ever, then we learn yon
yonder we find

godliness as defined by men who found no better word.

are there words better able to
hold being
really?
Acting asif whats were ours

chaching I ching's a thing
AI see
co rect me, in a lefthand way.
Make me right, in an underhanded way.

Listening prayer,
cast all your care, upon...

what if, per se, there
we planned to keep a secret sacred,
set a part,
a
rite a role. play an otherwise magician's apprentice enspeliered

up against the wall.
No light, no flight, no fight.

Birds eat my fruit and s
hit my seeds,

I am the vine growing up the wall
intentionally espelliered, planted to scale the wall
bhering fruit
full time

Kali fornia ifity

de-if now. Give it y'best ef
fect com
fort ify the lie "why is an unreasonable quest."

Try,

effectual, fervent prayer of a right using man, eh?

Pascal, m'man, layomoneydown!
While watching Tommy Chong on Rogan
Ken Pepiton Sep 2020
Aware, as I am a ware,
not all minds find time to rest
while being read to,
while holding power to pause the reader and

look up a fact the reader mentions as being known
to all, but
me, I did not know, for

until some, not so long ago, time, agone away
holdon- until now,

I lacked the leisure to listen, no time,
for I was busy learning to
use the next necessary
technology, with glee,
to some geekish degree.
..-. - .-

Find The Answer
that is the message first heard, is it not?
Do you know what must come next?

Hell, yes. Yes, I know. We know, say every baby
*******, being
shaped in secret by wizards who do peep,
and ping, one thing to another,

IOT FTA we are here.

Is the evil fruit parasitic? We may find the answer,
if, ifity, see this ifity we imagine there
is
an answer to find, and we live in times like none
ever, up to now.
We have answers to quests, maps, keys in riddles,
laws in minds mastered in disciples of once
known occurrences
while crossing the ocean of current opinion.

- minded to put her away
- brrring the meter to the poem o leave
- me ****** imp
- I've lived this the long way, one day at a time
- rimes at the rim of ality re all lies in me,
- fall through the null net
- true/false, re/no/si
¿ No se?

Symbols only readers see.
Magi once prepared the spells with images
of things called common,
Bullhead was somehow alpha…

at this point silence, and the  sixty cycle humms of my home
step up as chorus,
while the narrator makes changes to the scene.

This is 2020, whenever you are. Our quests have become
ionic, after r poets got the point
and pierced the code of common sense, y'feel me?

Méiyǒu huǎngyán?

2020, like as not a lot closer to Babel than Eve,
on the angelic one way spiral of properly teleo-mered
DNA.

Mere, as a word, is a map and a clue in my realm.
****** is as well, truth be told,
sayings and figures of speech get old, apoptosis ceases to
pop.
Like bubble wrap.

Listen. We are served by art, or we are the artificer
serving you art.
We, as a we, not me'n'you and the others, but we,
the people who hold certain truths
self-evidently, as in
evidently, we have the power to be true to our own selves.

But our owned-ed-ed-u-cated self, owes its soul to the
companion store, for we all must ever eat the same
bread brot pan pita our parents ait,

just outside the garden,
near gobekli tepi, maybe, worth a look,
but later, if anybody knows, AI knows already.

I can wait, let's get through today. whats the selah code
for today lets keep on this No Lie theme, in Chineze


Méiyǒu huǎngyán

Did I wish or pray or merely hope

some good
could come from me
discerning, filtering rocks from beans at an

early
age, life is always living

memes are living memories of
things others
learned.
shucking corn and finding worms, but not
evil canker worms that ate every thing,
just the kind that chickens like
for treats on shuckin' days
in the olden days.

Today. 2020 tech, ancient mental time travel
app approaching
act if ative ity ooomph ala

we good


Méiyǒu huǎngyán

The song was One Day at a Time, Sweet Jesus,
That's All I'm Asking From You.

Careful what you ask for,
as we commonly hear conservative mouths mutter,
by rote,
sleep-learned response to faith preparing to leap.

Giant steps feel just like falling, but yes,
you may,
if mother nature were asked, she would have said.

There is always a  place to put your foot, says the
spritely reminder from Sycamore Canyon,
running rock to rock, in the spring.

One Day, today, I was thinking I have all the time
in the world.
I can say that and believe I am not lying, for
reason,

reason is tricky stuff, like sweaty dynamite, in
the hands of kids with hammers intending
to nail freedom to the mofa wall.

Everything looks like a nail.

Ages of reason have gone chaotic,
due to war being given reason by law and
law given credence by users of wisdom, trying
to gain authority by authoring peace
where no peace appeared possible.

Hmmmm, sixty cycles 2020 constancy, in America,
aha,
how appropriational can one app be, y'azme, mine's as
appropriate as any,

point to point conversion, all things being equal,
push comes to pull, not destroy,
idiot. id thing, idea, jot
tittle
tattle tale
child, old gaseous entity stinking in memorable words.

Incensed, he cried, I am the prayers of all the saints,
ohsit I think
ang or watt

hat'gosh-roted - my word, have aw e- unrolled a whole new
dimension.

-- message for today, when you read this it is written,
that is all… empty of meaning until filled by your reading,
really… no bad mocuss curse of doubt…

we emerge into life in living vessels, empty save the
basic ideas an ant has, avoid discomfort by seeking comfort,
time is not a factor, but luck seems to be,
then screaming and kicking
seems to work,
work, that’s a concept… work it out, why

why,
grunt, why, ahh, that

fertilizer, I am here to convert raw living matter constituents
into some substance needed by mother,
her,
she who feeds me, she who has a name, mmmm ahhh,
it will come to me
this knack I notice used
noises that calm and comfort. oh good com encompass me
swallow me whole,

I have all the time in the world - this is twentytwenty the year
and I am in one of those days.
Sad, for an enjoyable art effect kanji characters can't be displayed or saved here. I am enjoying the thinking needed to print them with a mush-point bamboo flair pen, as a child, as an old man I have AI
Ken Pepiton Mar 2021
Three Grandsons, 5, 8, 11 - and me
Thus this day began.  
-- they're online, in school, ever learning early

This is how I enjoy being.
Not
simply
being, being is
complicated, being is made
of many-
maybe, infinite plane plains piled high and multiplied
and probably twisting,
altogether
to gather points of light you followed
to the thee-at-ah
of three eyes
kiva, kindalikka
convenient cave in words
we carry with us, dark places,
often damp and stinky places,
deep
depressions on the surface of reality,
holes
to here, the point of being being
enjoyment
in the silence and the noise.

--------- Glimpsing

Points of lights, thoughts as
sparks
lighting
words ablaze with fiery wills to empower
gentle spirits hounded
by proud lies,
urging proof,
daring the hero to go
native, become ugly
destroyer of good for goodness sake, go
mad, breathe
anger,
rage and jealous zeal,
hold that inspiration, then

blow it out…

into shameless billows of
peace through safety and warmth,
naturally, as real -ifity is, made
to meet the need.
- an inspiration, a visitation
- a mere whatifery thing

_ movie theaters used to be dark as a kiva, yes
yes, that's true. Mythraic caves, those, too.
--- any mental conditioning, the
Alpha version is only perfect if you
sculpture with wind,
and clouds are
all you have to show for it, then…
or cracking ice, yes, cracking ice
lines
on a great lake or a puddle,
branching waywayway many ways,
fragile and gone, after while.
Fragile and temporary,
's mortality… gone.

Gone to where all beauty goes to conspire.
Inspirations for aspiring users of science,
conscience cleared, uses
made up, asifities
seep into mental sap,
syrup of what maybe when we agree.
Peace is a purpose, ours. We,
the people who hold these truths on earth.
Thus it has ever been,
but now we know, science-wise
Man, the species, doth not live by words alone.

Joy is its strength, light its medium.
Owning is not a concept,
except we agree,
mine is mine by reason, aha, I have it!
I have this.
This is mine, at the moment.
Eureka, we take joy as we take fire.
I first read old Thom Jefferson said,
“He who receives an idea from me,
receives instruction himself without lessening mine;
as he who lites his taper at mine,
receives light without darkening me.”

It was he, who held sacred and undeniable,
the self-evident truths Ben Franklin wished to see
manifested, by way
of the actual vision he had in mind,
self evidently,
a thought experiment.

-- like Wanda Vision, right… that's on TV.

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

Meaning is what we agree we mean,
there is a rule for readers of possible
bullshat wisdom that says:

Enjoyment has its own sake, mentally,
suspended unbelief
-- to the degree of Disney + free trial,
watched with grandsons choosing
what I'll like,
for sure --

Suspended disbelief, I think,
as a mob state, is patho-logical, sick,
it'll ****. No joy in mayhem.

But self-actuated,
willingly suspended,
disbelief, the weapon, hung up on a point
you recall
safe and sound… now,
we are in the realm of words that live
through historical use,
as real as any angel ever named,
or any spirit ever claimed as guide.
Liberty, e.g., the character,
the dime version, with wings on her
Phrygian cap,
to make a kid imagine that must mean
something.

Seems Mercurial, don't it? Like,
Liberty is free is a message from goodness
in the future,
when all the symbols assemble at the throne
of mercy,
for daily renewal and furbishing,
and the ones worn thin by lying men,
are seen through and lightly
sifted into new clouds of might
being possible,
in all probabilities… even this one. Today,
with all its riches freely mine.
………….

Speculate, see if
this were to happen as would be best
for all of us,
us-ness being the state we exist in as
givers and takers of sense
signals,
vibes,
smiles, winks, waves

hey, I saw you see
the latest from Disney, without the crowd

did you notice evil always loses?
Yes, and
Hell is always prepared
for those who lack the knowledge
to escape
the franchise
mis interpretation of my realm,
where reason is as
reason, says, see
liberty, the character,
acts true
to the true hope, the trope of trust,
true rest, compressed to a moment
at the end of the adventure… DIY
save the world… from the unbelievable.

"Power isn't your problem, it's knowledge"
says the evil witch.
She must mean
secret, sacred knowledge-- that's the hint
in the Marvel universe,
such knowledge is believable…
attainable, learn, ever learn
practice makes perfect, patience.
There's a test.
Will to power
meets will to live free as any truth in ever,

it stands to reason
We'll say hello again…
for, we know,
it is a Marvel Universe, there's always
a sequel, inspired or invented
from something left behind.
Am I right, Stan Lee?

Eventually, we all die and leave hope behind,
or it is
all a lie… so let's make the story fun,
let's make it lift
the lonely, stay at home Disneyfied old man,
into deep conversations
about the poetic ****** of Wanda Vision…

how it ends in a dark theatre, lit from a single
source,
as a kiva is when the sipapu is left open
and all the curio spirits run free,
each to be weighed,
judged good or evil, good for something
or good for nothing.

Then the good for nothing ideas are left in the clouds,
so we never unget that
we got the word,
before it was a word, and we wrote it here
in the cloud,
for you to use as entertainment contained
in mere words, unto the distant future,
or until the entire internet AI dissipates
into improbability.
Pfft. Just like that.
Peace is a purpose, ours. My day was filled to over flowing, part inspired by Vision's closing soliloquy - in the entertaining back ground, with grandkids in the foreground of my vision for the future... like magic... how things work...
Ken Pepiton Feb 2021
From labyrinth in Istanbul, my eye spied a familiar cord

Education
How can any education
Be a sufficient insurance
For a pathetic population
Keeps favoring ignorance

From <https://hellopoetry.com/>

Truth known makes free,
truth hid is not ignored,
it waits the fire the next time innocents
are sacrificed to lies. ... thanks, you gave me a spark,

as real as any angel a self anoints another, go
be a lying spirit in the mouth of the tyrant's prophets,
let all the wise

laugh at the possibility of one peacemaker's leaven,
leavening the entire lump, liked or not.

Plop. On to the publisher's desk, piles of wonder and ifity.
A fantasy realm,
counter trope, here the so-called victor-victim ratio,
is imperceptibly low,
we have a regulation: each day requires
its sufficiency of evil,
no harm done is intentionally not possible,
otherwise you get a dimension of flat metric orthogonal
constructive critics
assuming unassigned roles. Do you dance? Or only read along?

Behold how great a fire words may kindle in a satisfied mind.
Permission granted is a state to be in, if you can imagine that's our native earthling state. If we are not the happy people, such must be imaginated.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2019
Note to you: The rythymn-in-strument strums in stone geo-time.
To the drummers,
dis-passio ey okeh,
woodwinds dim-
inuendo
oboe join in mit piccolo on the hummingbird whistles
simulating
Breezes, in the shade of a great rock,

real life rock, granite composed of not so tiny grains
of ground up uther utter star-stuff, side-
real asif intended for goodness
sake.

otherwise, how petrified I'd be come imagining the forming
of the
very
foundation of my life, as I know it,

it is un-believable, therefore
no lie,
if
the riddle arrives after ever begins

and, word has it, dear reader,
may
is your word now.
You may believe anything you wish,
with no
un-intended after math, after ever
began

Do you recall...
youth full quests completed alone?

Quests, Johnny Quest, Future Quest V.B.S.

believers, true believers being formed from childish hopes,
manifesting in grown liars stricken with

hidden child sym-drone
in the middle of booming thirty-something phase when
pressure
starts storing all the old stories,

building energy for the seventh decade fracture/crushing

blow
sh
soft blow breeze of free and easy musing re
songing a reason to belief
in
even in
a realm where lies never die.

Recall the old days, balance
bubbles and crossed hairs and roads
...
Balance factors, bubble balancing lead weight,
deligate
the Whole Earth Catalogue
as
tipping-point
balanced by the weight of the roof on Notre Dame being
melted along with the rest of the Greenland Ice sheet,

so superman eyes in our skies can see to the bedrock on
which the

Principle Thing
spins
---
The root of evil has reached this point

this is after all that. Time-wise, in the arrow scenario.

Fair tales always win, sh'eros live for your examined life'sake

--- ranting old men come running down stairs
--- the hidden child has arrived

The golden headed child, meek and cold
locked
in buried treasure

chests opened one last time for quadrupal by-pass

--- He's a donor
--- givem awish foundation
--- make this sacred

Mi-da's, well, he wished again,

he wished he lived in inter-sting times entertainment-wise

inward touching times imagined
in the addled golden child
Adler
brought to life in a virtual, al-most verifiable asnot art,
but not

very-fi-able, semper-fi-wise, if you

swore the oath. (It's a game, right, now game vows link for
in of by logic gated
Jungian
mazes, do they? Amazing.  ) See,

from above, as below, pretend you know

all things, you can imagine

in my bubble, in the absolute absense of your
at-most-fear

let. that act do. let us, the objective aspect of we,
the people who hold those famed

troothz, verities of any examind re-ality-ifity-isms

self-evidence for we

be letting be, believe me, that's no lie, you can doit, you can, you can
I imagine

and I accept we may mean more to me than thee,
however now
hapt, in qualia quantumical if-I-ability
entangled meanings
link us through
my-silly-um,

Disney-fictionation endo-crenalation, --||T|>>>--->
times half
formed
Crea-nullated castle
wall
link that sparked the aitia ifiabe
first caused
fall from the well
on the mountain

jack fell downbroke his crown
jillcame
tumbling after bling bling bling

--- the sorcerors's apprentice was fired
--- they found errors in his
--- sin-tax

We can forgive such over-sight.
Blame the mycelum clan

or,
better yet,
blame the clay eaters, no,
the clay wearers?

the clay bher-ers?
Ah, the clay bakers, fersher? Nae?

The clay, perse?
The dust we shuffle as we dance atop the stone?
The way of the rolling stone,
grinding, rolling-downhill-stone,
the stone rolled away,

the stone of the sysiphus-seen-hap-iuna
cult?

Blowing in the wind, lifted higher

Ax d'maji-yo, he know. 'Zeke 17, seven with a caballero v,
y'know,
callit Macaronic be-bop

dodat, yankee doodle morph t' resound,
like poetry
slams

at the gates
no enemey ever breached. The key truth, is that,

believe it, if you think you may.
Macaronic language is text that uses a mixture of languages,[1] particularly bilingual puns or situations in which the languages are otherwise used in the same context (rather than simply discrete segments of a text being in different languages). Hybrid words are effectively "internally macaronic". In spoken language, code-switching is using more than one language or dialect within the same conversation.[2]

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