Simple actions become habits
Which then lead to character
Character leads to success
And a rewarding life
Even monumental achievements
Thus flow from simple actions
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This is a simple and short poem - but contains a powerful message. Every small action counts, and even monumental achievements are made up of thousands of small actions and habits.
Watching the schemes
of the World
and realising nothing
a cause yet
it seems so,
there it is
to see it
is not us
who choose events,
but they choose us,
since there are so many
mishaps on our
As we know there is no coincidence in
the ways all Here flows to and fro,
one side of event must have premeditation.
Once we see how we are “accidents”
and can’t pinpoint it exactly,
there is no other way than to say
The other side takes course of it.
"Can I do that for you?"
"Here, let me take care of it."
"Don't worry honey, I took out the trash already."
More than silence.
Space. Freedom. The radiant light crossing the distance between the worries pressing your spine and a task checked off by someone else when you weren't looking.
It is an air valve popping loose.
A throat suddenly choked up even as the tension melts away from your muscles. Sacrificial love replacing the items on your to-do list, one by one. Your mind free to think again, to live again.
An oasis in a blinding desert, planted by another person, fertilized with their perception, and watered with their care.
It's not just that a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It's that you're now weightless.
They have shouldered your burdens with a tender smile.
They have helped you learn to fly again.
Love Languages Series: II - Acts of Service
NO MORE am I confident in what this world has to offer
Its people are selfish and crazed
Chewing up and spitting out the meek and mild souls
Imprisoning an empath to suffering and pain
NO LONGER can I look upon life fondly
With that pure yet innocent gaze
I've been stripped of the wonderous excitement that curiosity can bring
And replaced it with an anxious but violent haze
NO MATTER the extent to which I try to recover
My mind keeps taking me back to those horrific days
Where a person or persons exorcised their demons
Placing those vivid memories on a continuous loop of play
NO DOUBT I'm broken and tainted
Which is quite short of filing it all away
I cannot condone or explain exactly why
Those that slaughtered my reality did NOT somehow pay
One single act, be it wonderful or horrendous, can change someone's world forever...
I like America’s Got Talent,
especially when they have dog acts.
I love dog acts. I cry at dog acts.
I wish dog acts would bark and chase
those young kids and aspiring adults
who sing opera every year and
get into the semifinals off the stage;
chase the pretentious dance troupes
and acrobats; half-funny comics;
the children who sing lustily in adult voices;
the seniors with fading contralto dreams;
the day glow CGI artists who
illustrate on a big, dark canvas;
the magicians with their card slight of hand,
even the ones who just do regular magic—
right off the stage with a bark and
a push of their snouts.
Dog acts are pure.
They sit. They heel.
They stay. They obey.
They even sing, dance and draw too.
All acts should be dog acts.
All dreams should be dog dreams.
Every million dollar winner,
mongrel or pure bred,
should have a 100% canine heart—
even though they would trade it all
for a pat on the head, good treats
nice walks with you and belly rubs.
War the death bringer
Acts of destruction
Man causes genocide
As humankind tears apart
Nature brings life
It brings peace and knowledge
Man is oblivious to this fact
As man is too occupied causing pain
But we are all the same
Stupidity smells upon our kind
As the cause of War is man
as a house for me. Your
kind words make me feel warm
and cozy on the inside.
Even when there's a
blizzard outside my window,
with you I feel warm.
What do you think? It's still just a draft, but I just wanted to get the thoughts of others.
Ah, you must be Alice, call me old hatter
My ears have been ablaze with implicated chatter
I just can't seem to ration out my rationale in a rational manner
And secondly I've lost all the firsts that I had gathered
There's the door
Please do come in
I won't let you
this door won't shut
the way winds through my head
I'm growing so tired.
we are not going to bed
Ah goodnight, Alice, you're back
I left you a note and it came out so flat
I put the wrong end in front
so only you may see
I tried to be blunt but it just isn't me
Alice comes from the ancient greek for truth, 'alethéia'
I can't actually read ancient greek