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It's not because you want it to
but time moves on
what can you do?

but move with it.

We watch the clock
the clock watches too
time moves on
what can you do?
There are no more heroes
Unless you're what the media wants
No more Sylvia's or Emily's
Never another Edgar, Whitman, or Frost!

I am but a drop in an ocean
My heart will stay stuck in my throat
Fame will only come upon my end!
The plight of a natural born poet

All we know is write, write, write!
Words that wont reach until our last breath
Must we exist in this silence while forced to be alive?
We'll never know who was saved from our death!

How terribly embarrassing!
Those who sit in a fluorescent white room
Being taught what we were born to know
To love, and write, and lose!
Tomorrow is
nebulous at best.
A dream of one
who still sleeps.
You are alive now.
Awake in this fresh
green world.
In the planning, we
forget to live.

Ask the mice and men
how plans go.
There are traps and
trivialities that keep
you from carrying on.
Funny things happen on
the way to the bank.
My mom died while
grocery shopping.

Today, peers back at
you from the mirror.
Breath and heartbeat.
Desire and passion.
No one survives this
story.
You're the author and the
protagonist, write it
well.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEeNcBC_mnM
Here's a link to my You Tube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published books, available on Amazon.

I'm proud to announce the release of my newest book, Sleep Always Calls Poems due to be released later this month.
"let us write cleaner, simpler,"
says my heart to my mind,

the mind replies,
(nay, whines)
wistfully professes,

"now, now,
all that's within, accumulated wisdom of nearly a century,
for want, for waste, let us
privy you a taste of elixir
of combinatory emotional
potions of our vast vascular vocabulary,
rambled scrambled
wandering among the
envisionings, insertions,
criss crossed propositions,
lay before you simplistic
complimentary complications,
take the adventurous down
a warren of rabbit holes,
let them happily be lost,
deep delve, into mysterious
confusions
let not the joy of
the unraveling journey
be sacrificed on an altar
of absolutism of
clean brevity
never ever
use but one word,
when
a tapestry
can be summoned!"

so we conclaved
and agreed to disagree,

and we each wrote home
 May 2 Ken Pepiton
nivek
doubt dispersed
mist evaporated
a clear heart
a clear mind
-transparent love.
When a single line
has greater depth
than a thousand
and is long in memory kept
 May 2 Ken Pepiton
irinia
on this hill a poet can see how
the tip of the forest is the dance-floor for light, how
silent sediments don't notice our steps
yes, there are mythologies of darkness in the bracket (some are ready to take the plunge) but
I am here to watch the evening simmering, the light letting go of itself
the tide of sight attuned with the air discarded by trees
my bones run in a depth even when time calls a truce with itself
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