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Ken Pepiton Nov 2024
State of mind. Officially heard of, yet
never assumed involvement, as yet
another word I had defined for me,
so I could make sense of something
some persons now are dying
to squelch or digest as best.

National State Mind Possession,
bound
by oathz as old as stirrups
and Koumiss to Scythian warriors.

Tuvan chorus sings defining mode
---------------------
crossing mind divides, up the tree
learning ever is ever relearned.
Measured across gravity,
at speed… diametric
push comes to pull,
shove into science,
twowordone mind hold,
from dia "across, between"
+ legein "speak"
from PIE root *leg- (1)
"to collect, gather,"
with derivatives meaning
"to speak (to 'pick out words')").
Picking critical similarities not unique
Relegein,
so we are in a weform, holy gnoshit.

Danger prestate,
child mind, alone,
left, there, that old time religion, eh,
good enough
for me, keep the baby,
safe, no escaping the baby born, but,

if we are gods,
as Jesus is said to have
asked some who told Luke'n'em have
you never read…
apokrinomai-
Is it not written
in your law, I said,
Ye are gods?
I am the door:
by me if any man enter in,
he shall be saved,
and shall go in and out,
and find pasture… as a free spirit

== o o o indeed advance guard,
force recon, reconnoiter… synchro
realize, animation projection screen

music, lose.
Consci-use make of
any umms that remain,
these are keeping our reality human
artificial products of collective dialectic

always,
on goes,
off stops, think,
recall as
from a dream, awake, only,
never
does a dream tell itself
to you.
You always tell you first, awake.

Do, done, this is a story coming alive,
with my efforting,
with your spiritual reception
in mind, intending your current opinion,
consciously ties sense where missing,
to hold ties to
historical canonical events,

the death of dinosaurs,
the killing fields of Khmer reds,

the shame on Richard Nixon, then
the glory for restoring relations
with the oldest civilization,
- inadvertent, unintentionally
allowing Kung Fu
to accompany
Lao Tzu bringing wisdom from China,
and unbelievable ping pong teams, to
Mohave County Union High School,
seeding shén as an ai hai hope, in me,
chosen most politically minded Class of 66, and editor of the Bulldog,
always ready to culturally exchange,

to trade Huckleberry Finn,
and Red Badge of Courage,
for a respectable translation
into this digital language, index
matrix adapting courage to core.

“The Way of Virtue”  
a new POV wrong Tzu, sorry,
conscience, Tzus of two minds,
among the books bought
in Saigon, in this telling.

Two Tzus too soon forgotten.

Way is Lao, Tao-Te-Ching… War is
Sun Tzu "The Art of War" science
used to pass culture forward,
past forgotten why we lied in
providing old excuses
for heros virtues
never lost,
like Mary's cherry
told children destined
to fight any war when called,
to prove confidence needed
to make boys believe worth
of dying while disobeying
the command to love…

gotcha… beguiled was I, indeed,
do we forgive the liar and leave
the lieing oath of aliegiance valid?
  
Religiously clinging to my own thread
of reasoning
on this side
of war, in peace
resting, while testing opinions milked
from the use
of knowledge,
conscience
conscious
right use,
twist

which
fuses words and ways to ask
what is going
on as wagwan, on
conscience,  
with knowing we know,
consciousness
of oathez sworn,
to science misdefined, sacred truthz
kosher kaballah rules
allowing easy seventy
possible roles OPM
sell the sizzle,
hot inside scoop
for each full word, a-
indeed, Aleph-ante one, is
cost to play, A-team atom,

soulsong wombless man song
they ain't no they, I am the one,

A and one, onliest, initially, I am
the loneliest number, that you ever do.

eh, old licks, new tricks,
One, two
Three Dog Night,
maybe, close, old recall whistle,
the train that don't carry our kind,
-hear it nearin' last stop

ramblin', gamblin', traipsin' off t'learn,

how come we
to be so poor, and some
be doing nothing be so fine, just fine,

not asking any more,
got plenty,
mor'd be good,
but plenty be good, enough's
'plenty
to share but you gotta chew,

been dried since last winter sometime,
we could have a stew, but if we chew,
we could just have a chat, tell a tale,
not need no salt or water or a ***,
or a fire which then wants wood…

think maybe we got lucky to live now.

We got this light to write on.
I hope I cause no pain, making peace is easy face to face, Translate me with any Ai, not one, will not translate all this as peaceable from first intention. My vow, of sorts... to trust my conscience guided by many old wise teachers in books.
Malia Oct 2024
it feels like locking
the door on your loyal dog
who loved unconditionally
and saved you from your
sorrowful depths,
but you must go and
all things must end, though,
can’t you hear the whining
through the cracks?
can’t you hear the groan
through the cracks in the spine
made from opening what must
always
be shut?
Looseleft:

adj. feeling a sense of loss upon finishing a good book, sensing the weight of the back cover locking away the lives of characters you’ve gotten to know so well.
G Vermeulen Aug 2024
Here I am
Sitting at a simple desk
With a simple light
And a simple book next to me

The bookmark is sticking out on page 10
And in order to move it further
I will have to read
I will have to work
I will have to put my mind to it

Excuses

But life is the same
I feel like that bookmark
Someone has to move me
But doesn’t put their mind to it

I am next to that person
On their simple desk
Under their simple light
Located in a simple book

Why am I left there
Stranded between words
A complete standstill
Because of someone else’s excuses
Fiona Aug 2024
today marks
day 903

903 days
since you’ve left.

the first day I met you
I was tiny, barely a
fragment in this universe.
You held me
and shouted,
“She has my eyes!”

days collected together
just like a dusty library.
the memories we had together
are now ink, written and
unwritten.

how can I fit
8,035 days of admiring
your soul
learning your ways
into 78,083 pages?

yet I hope
that I got it right.
the way your heart
adored the small creatures
that purred
and deferred
your pain.

the way you
radiated joy
every time
you heard thunder
echo in the distance,
lightning splitting the sky.

the way you
carried the 10 of Wands
for days upon years
and released
finally…
this lifetime.

here I hope
that one day,
all of our days
will be held
in the hands of those
that were made
from the same
stars as us.
Grief is eternal. But so is love.
SøułSurvivør Jul 2024
An autobiography in prose and poetry
by Catherine Jarvis

This is not a peaceful, easy read
A bedtime story soft and mild
It rends the breast and makes it bleed
Brings savagery from a small child.

Who is this woman, you may ask.
This changeling growing up unseen
She drank out of a drugg'd flask
Who, from breast of poison, weaned.

The paper ochre, the ink blood red
It vanishes in the brown and yellow
A bloodbath which is blank instead
It could nev'r be mild or mellow.

Growing wild, Wednesday's child
Her veins flow arsenic and lace
Web of tattoos artwork styled
Growing weirdly on her face

Now she has small wings of gold
Rusted silver, which is odd
Jesus' blood now courses bold
Purified by our Great God

Catherine Jarvis
I'm starting a book. I plan to finish this one!y
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