#acts
I am finished. Now.
All my cards showing.
The embarassing play
Burned permanent
If I could...
Left unfinished by truth.
And my reasons?
Symbiotic starve without.
I just... want
Any fractional amount more
So I played it
Splended in mind alone
To win this shame
Aspects I never thought
Ruined in concept and
Delivery at cost of all
Hindsight amplifying
A conclusion now a fact
Why did i think
It played out different
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 3:20 PM UTC
everything has changed and you ? a stranger for it
rapid construction with matter en vogue or on hand
and you flirt thru a portfolio of guest incarnations
like a japery
we experiment with death when we (breath-catches-breath)
recreate this fast
and disregard past experience
Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 5:34 PM UTC
Acts of Kindness
<>
let this be
my first rule,
and my last,
in ~ deed,
my only
begin, end,
and populate
my daily life
with the courtesy
of sharing my
abundance
with you
July 4th
2023
7:53AM
Jul 4, 2023
Jul 4, 2023 at 7:56 AM UTC
An Opus, is this. Ai do declare, my works,
my opera, taken in to my self aware, soft
and gentle
- tame the framing window
- as the Mona Lisa in chalk, let it be
So, old man, he says to me, quoteless in my mind;
what do you think of the last linear affect, my wisht
effectual request, quest for reason to will. May we?
Taste, and see.
Firsts are always free,
there, sit and stare at a stump,
…
At the core, before first root, the door
to out is locked up tight, living is hard.
Imagine many hands making light function, easy
shift from one sense to another, by the numbers.
Seed time.
Long time and short time
long lingering memories, short sharp reminders,
freedom, heard touted for all its worth, cost free.
Live to realize you did believe,
this is what we get, on earth, within bounds.
-mindtimespace and maybe Aristotle's four causes.
-there never was a hell those are church merch.
Coknowing, as any reader by now must be, coded,
we know freedom is not free,
we lieve be, it had to be won,
and as with any war,
winning is never done,
until we all choose, yes, or no, use our reasoning,
learn to bolt the rye,
- sift bran and endosperm
life has many
layers, many folds in a flakey crust
set… listen, windy March time flooding prayers,
asking the boss of all the weather, for wisdom
to come
on the folk who rebuilt
on the new sand.
Knowing, high and mighty.
Storms mean less to a house built solid/
broken bricabrac and whatnots galore,
shattered anvilt'dust,
as in the wind, once used to sweep away,
my married mind, unwound, or un raveled
as may be the case, aitia, as accuser.
opera operates deus ex machina
Is he free,
is his task his alone?
May be, may not, who could say?
Science with its native usefullness,
knowing good and evil, as translated
from the idea,
pride.
- Whence comes contention
How much, how little, measured out
so my part and yours, balance, against
all our worth as ones among the many,
duty service warring minds, stealing time
let this be the palimpsest, recovered
from
radical actual chthonic stage
between the rootedly other wise, simpleton
sublime curios spirit, settling soul substance
hope imagined
image, form imagined in motion, in access
the unacknowledged legislator, impotent
in the wasteland populated by the poets past.
Empty of spite and venom, distracted ******
the dread of failure, is past me now,
I have become a defender of the faith used
to form my bubble of being,
thinnest of walls, translucent lattice seen
closely enough
to discern the marvelous vision, not to be
lied about by one who never watched selecting
portals accept the usefull and abhor the useless.
-cellular ATP [pop]
Freedom
of the press, belongs
to the man, wombed or un,
Take the poet's high seriousness, this
which brings a self forward -duty
to try signaling-- here,
here, exactly, as
by standing acting out that light announcing danger,
dare not come too close.
Mime meme, mea culpa. {as we cross another's line}
"compulsive excavation
of the void inside"
Irinia, HelloPoetry.com said that,
- goodnight, as an exclamation
- she said that right
Peace, be still.
And I, the old Weaver's fan,
known as Happy, whishing
wafting hot ai
r, we there, as my soup cooler
slips in a Disneyified whatifery
pool where wandering minds wait
recoknowning, groan growing,
silliest little diamond miner
of 'em all… so stupid, he's cute.
And in that way, the hero being
generated, on the pattern
handed down, to be seen
when you gaze in to your
close kin's eye and see co-known,
we were made
for this,
Klang, that Zildjian once again!
Exclamation, thus marked, calls
attention in the mind's contextual
effectuality, becoming
realized,
instant by instant, at first glance,
whose enemy am I, is the game,
truly
win or lose?
End act one.
Act two. In realized ever after that
The Internet exists, and we were here,
to help announce it,
then we made decisions, to make this.
-Opus
Spiking hopes up, we are among
the first billion mind text to text artforms
to survive
the transition to whenever next insight
sets us right, functional, operational
points,
in reality, centers, of shapes.
- of things in mindtimespace
In this medium, this is my realm,
your role,
is yours to define, any time, think ahead,
see if this goes there, what if it does.
Read'm and weep.
Then what do you do? Ever being after
learning enough to come this deep
when
time arrives.
Short time and long time,
made some mutual sense, muse using me,
and me,
I wished for this, that's so,
I asked to know the meaning of certain things.
I third in to knowing grown, as a tiny we
takes form of information in words rye,
or reasonably surprising to confess,
you know, McLuhan says yet, you know
nothing of my work. Awry.
Successfully making pasta with home-milled, bolted flour depends upon an appreciation of the interplay among grain selection, mill settings and bolting equipment. Failing to consider these factors increases the likelihood of making a weak dough and pasta that breaks when cut and/or cooked. Although one can mask the impact of a weak dough by choosing a more forgiving pasta shape (e.g., creating cavatelli instead of making tagliolini or tagliatelle), knowing the interaction of grain, mill and sieve will help you to create the pasta you envision. Google it.
Certainty is madness, has been resaid
in many ways, all the same, nothing changes
until the bubble of all we call awesome, pops.
AND Boom, it's Art for art's own sake, and me,
for my own, as we two witness, here,
this has already happened this once,
upon, operating the game, shame is left
in your -wherever,
compost it, tell the world.
I made nothing of myself.
I made something else, and then
I made U,
my qwerty symbolic friendly stat set,
bound near-letter
to peeling layers from this particular pearl,
today- in the post Everybody Knows, Cohen
sacred making idea in other words
sacrificial artifice,
offering unto that
super positioned we, humanity has set aside,
holy
holy
hoho ** green giant, ma jones, whole earth
Stewart Brand, right worthy former breather,
with us to this day, in word, and you know,
wheres words take us,
a we spirtitually untied, we
these days, depend to the nth degree,
on real estates in mindtimespace, literaturely.
Ben mentioned, awesome,
I did not catch the reference, I see,
I said a third I line pattern stylized me.
I see, I said for the nth dime degree
Phryigian Liberty Lady.{PLL} appearing
on the silver dimes entangled in the web,
of what Bacon knew or did not know,
when he invested with Madoff.
I know.
He did not write the sonnets.
Marking timestretched most point. Here.
right passing the point.
We imagine everything, am I right?
Line upon line, messaging any thing reader
ready, right now,
this is not the act, no novel form
of a sliver of if,
this is not that.
this is vid licet, per missions taken
for granted, as
meaning clearly I believe I have the right to say
reflectively
I know a whole
other story, new to you, but not to many readers
you were,
in previous experiences
in poetry, and books
for lievers being brought online
in due time.
Ever after that. You may, pause, and imagine roses.
Act three Realized mentally
At the end, it is mental ascent, we do form,
in conformity to the commonest of codes,
Berners Lee's Hyper-code, as manifested in hopes,
of artists,
so called by all who knew them, the framing crews
at Aaron Brother's Art Mart Penny-Frame Sales
events for staff, same
kind of crew glue,
as seen any where,
apron clad, badged, same grinning, that's me,
I did that, too. Grind,
locked in midnight restocking
Walmart, yep, #26, Van Buren, Arkansas.
Target on… Cuyamaca, Santee, San Diego New
Trolley End, right, future planned in action..,
I got black dirt cred back to Moses, m'friend,
I am as full blood American as may be by imagining
I am a Union man, distant scion of a soldier
who had a son prior to dying, around 1781.
In the war for freedom of the press, yes, Ben,
my childhood proverb provider, reminds us all,
owning the use
of money is better than owning
money.
Freedom
of the press, belongs
to the man, wombed or un,
the awesome asexual after all we know,
who who followt Jeffy, and yet did not die in shame,
I mean
after all, we know, we think, why any might
be
so tempted to throw in a sorted *** scene
to envoke audience reaction
by invoking spelchekian mastermind.
Freedom
of the press, belonging
to the man, wombed or un,
who has access to HelloPoetry, past all the 502s.
Free, if you will. No yoke. Seat of y'panting/
Ai aiai
This ain't showbiz. It is one act enacting another.
A writing being ready and read, at once, later.
SO, I bet the Diamond Farm.
Friendly local game, envision a vision of your own,
drawn from what you know is good, for food.
Good idea, fishing for everything.
Got one,
governing meat eaters,
keep your gun, pay a meat tax, by
buying a deer tag, which you may use
or put in to a deer harvesting pool.
That pool then gets used
to pay hunters and packers.
Living forests allow humane behaviour.
Be having the right to use the proteins,
- but you must pay the butchers
- as you might pay yourself
- for the gutting and skinning and all
tastes may be acquired,
that is a power, that sense, too any thing
taste
at first, too bitter
resending hate hate hate, thought caught,
infecting all who take free time to think.
Sweet persuasive, tiny
taste, ah
any, ha, may take a direct object status
in any story, told to gurgling gut gladly
reminding us, aha,
food is not imperitive, o see, im per it
-this instant, soon, however, bread's a must
imperit
ive found myself a happy enough
moment,
dopplering blue jay flies by, says Hi.
- I read myself into the game, and call
Back to Bellow, he told of a fellow in Spain,
who spoke of nudists on the public transportation
in Frankfurt, so, I slip in time slime, no crime time,
¿when was that,
in the era Bellow was an adult in,
when I was just a kid… living in those days?
Poker on the Diamond Farm, in the dust,
we swept into play in the after you believed,
what-did-you-get-to-do game?
I got old. After a while.
Actively participating in the spirit
of my time.
And most of my future happened as I did,
we happened to be here,
at this time, reading.
An opus set to end, when the contrabassoon
blow ai ai ai.
Curtain.
Mar 21, 2023
Mar 21, 2023 at 7:43 PM UTC
I don't need help changing my tire
I need your political support
to put out this fire
set by the angry mob of course
and there's no way I can force
you to see from the high horse
you gained from light chores
so keep your random acts of kindness
as long as you cure your blindness
I think we could find this
more profound niceness
embedded within the social construct
so kindness is required and not luck
because our intermittent charity
won't achieve economic parity
making our situation scarily
here to stay apparently
so don't tell me to be civil
from behind the American sigil
that sits on a swivel
with **** symbols
and those that swindle
a nation of marks
pushing shopping carts
in a lockstep art
dividing us from the heart
so even if you mow my yard
we'll still be miles apart
separated by a canyon of cordiality
that a river of oppression runs through
carrying away our ordeal reality
as fast as guns do
when they're held by the sightless
who convince themselves they're righteous
through random acts of kindness.
May 26, 2022
May 26, 2022 at 9:05 PM UTC
By small and simple acts and ways
Our futures come to pass
And so we ought to choose today
The ways that bless at last
For time speeds by and races on
And seeds we’ve planted grow
Then let’s arise each waking dawn
And act on what we know
Small and simple will often lead
To great and glorious things
So set good habits with all speed
And watch the wealth this brings
Dream big indeed, and make a start
Small steps will do just fine
Leverage time - it’s just plain smart
And works with laws divine
Let “small and simple” work in you
Develop heart and mind
Then confidently follow through
And live what you’ve designed
Mar 18, 2021
Mar 18, 2021 at 10:41 AM UTC
Meta means above
Meta means transcend
Meta means “next level up”
With meta you’ll ascend
So when it comes to daily acts
Choose those with “meta” powers
Build a business
Write a book
Plan for years - not hours
For meta-choices carry-on
Far past the “choosing” day
Earn a black belt
Frame a house
Vision - paves the way
Meta-Decisions - Meta-Thoughts
Will build both wealth and peace
Release yourself
From “pushing”
Meta - “pulls” increase
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 8:20 AM UTC
Helped regret all my acts of kindness,
Tell beauty, if you like...
Now I wish I were dead...
Lesson learned? Duty call
For my reaction isn't forlorn.
Stupid all my prayers,
Perhaps a curse will work much better...
For that better world imagined, so longed for.
How could I not support her, the one who helped me so.
And they say I needed my medicine.
She cures it all.
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 9:51 AM UTC
Over time
Simple actions become habits
Which then lead to character
Character leads to success
And prosperity
Miraculous results
And a rewarding life
Even monumental achievements
Thus flow from simple actions
And habits
Over time
Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 8:58 AM UTC
Watching the schemes
of the World
and realising nothing
happens without
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
part.
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 7:24 PM UTC
MorningSunDirtyDishesDwindlingFridgeOhNowTheKidsAreUpWhere'sMyAssignmentDueDamnThatDogWrongShoesRightShoesCan'tForgetTheLunchCarNeedsGasLaundryLaterProfessorAssignedANOTHERPaperCoffeeBreakMyLibraryChairIsTakenWhyOhWhyDidIHaveToGetTheCubicleNextToTHEMStaringAtAScreenInsuranceCompanyCalledForgotToCheckTheWaterHeaterGottaPickUpThatNewCoatForMySonWhyOhWhyIsTheClockSoDamnSlowManMyBackHurtsWhyDidn'tIGetAStandingDeskIAlmostForgotOfficeHoursFINALLYTimeToClockOutMomLookAtThisDadSheHitMeDidNotDidTooDAMNThatLaundryIForgotItOfCourseTheProfessorWouldLeaveFiveMinutesEarlyOhGottaBuyPresentsForCousinStaceyOhFUCKDidYouJustSpillGrapeJuiceOverTheNewCarpetYouDidIShouldn'tSwearAtTheKidsEvenMoreMountainsOfHomeworkNowTheBaby'sScreamingTheDishesAreStillDirtyHiHoneyI'mHomeCan'tTalkGottaGetDinnerReadyLooksLikeALongNightAtTheLibraryAgainAndTheLawnNeedsToBeMowedGodI'mSoTired-
"Can I do that for you?"
"Here, let me take care of it."
"Don't worry honey, I took out the trash already."
Silence.
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.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 9:18 PM UTC
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
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 7:18 PM UTC
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
Split apart
But we are all the same
Stupidity smells upon our kind
As the cause of War is man
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 8:37 AM UTC
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
leave again
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
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 4:42 PM UTC
Let us dance to this new song
New instruments added
Chords never heard before
But do we know how to dance?
Will we just go with the flow?
We just went with the flow.
Another one playing
And there was born
A new type of dance
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 1:00 AM UTC
without asking for tangible receipts
but to pollinate greensward vis a vis
as pay forward recompense
many good samaritan instances
came my way of late, yet
hive heal stymied, how
unexpected gratuitous deeds didst whet,
a voluntary yen of mine
to pay back or forward
countless instances
to balance out scale reciprocation
doth weigh within mine conscious
and/or subconscious
giving back status unmet,
thus...this ambling, bumbling, fumbling,
et cetera sensate **** Sapien able Juan
Tim steady state Cane, tis ready and set
analogous to the tricks Seine (seen)
by a rheas ease pond dint
surveyed monkey smart pet
whom calculated thine net
total asper positive fortunate events this chap
and or loved ones within mine family met
since years gone by to the present moment let
me experience minimal anxiety
finds euphoric sensation within me (as if jet
ting into stratosphere,
and a counter force get
tin overpowering akin
to a creditable conscientious debt
begging to be honored as a non boastful bet
among the better angels of thyself
whom regulate acceptable, affordable, airing...
agreeable, amenable, un arguable heartfelt
good fella expressing deserved certifiable
bona fied ardent
action demonstrating appreciation
for innumerable, humbling deeds
done divinely deposing
dada's depredatory, depredation, depression
sans crucial life line feeds,
as genuine deep seated acknowledgement
as proof emotional, financial,
and spiritual bountiful personal necessity
receiving such psychic receipts heeds!
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
I kept hush of the trappings of your watered down spirit so their ears would not bear the burning news. The flickers of innocence flashed its teeth as we wrapped our pinkies around eachother for the last time and promised to not let go. Four days after you walked, I laid my soul for eyes to greive upon, for hungry dogs to ravage my remains, slobbering like there wasnt enough on their plate to fill their expanding appetite. I wonder if on the walk back home you saw a daisy and thought of how you let that promise become as spoiled as my remains. I wonder if you plucked it, held it, and said how ravishing it looked, only to leave it with pulled roots.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
I know she is not real,
Yet,I write for her;
She is a figment of my imagination,
One of my creation; And
Somewhere,Deep inside my mind,
Lies a canvas filled with her art;
A art,yet to be complete,
Where My words work like colors,
My pen acts as a brush;And
With each word I add;
She becomes real,
more and more real; And
When I will see her in real,
I will devote all this to her;
For she was the one who,
Inspired me in the first place...
©desireddreamer
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 2:07 AM UTC
Exists a place inside you and the name of it is Home
And every time you walk away you'll always feel alone
It takes a single step in vain to crucify the Truth
But all the same to stand beside the Hope it has for you
So drink The Tree of Knowledge and reflect on what it's done
Then bury all the poison it injects in everyone
Deliver cups of water from the roots it once ordained
And for the sake of saving cling to every single day
The sun continues rising and the moon remains in tact
As stars proclaim the victories in every second passed
While Death has spread a fever 'cross the bones of man in flesh
Eternal Life has poured itself on souls of man instead
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
The roaring sound of applause is becoming too boisterous to bear.
A flock of cameras and video recorders begin to huddle at the corners of the platform set behind the curtains of the stage. Actors, dancers, stage crew, and all of those who smiled, slowly line up for the grand finale.
But not this girl.
This girl sits on top of the railing of the things that hold up the set. Waiting, seeking, and wistfully watching. An actress, without a doubt. One of the best, they say. Although this girl had no plans to take that step and accept gravity as her master and plummet to her death, she won’t deny that she hasn’t thought of that before. This time, she had other things on her mind. Something radical? Well, maybe. Spontaneous? She was too lazy to move. Dark and twisted? Not in that sense. Nonetheless, she was thinking of something with importance.
For instance, she was thinking about the homemade cookies her mother used to give her, if she behaved perfectly, quiet, and still. Since she loved the feeling of success and food in her stomach, she fought back the longing of playing games and having fun.“Too perfect a child” some might say, but that never got into her. All she wanted was the sky, moon, stars, and nothing all at once.
Years go by, mistakes are done, and nothing is made whole again. The girl is woven in a snare of lies and is drowning in a bathtub full of the blood of swine. She swims and floats and tries to escape the demons that haunt her very soul. Breathe in, breathe out. She continues to sit perfectly, quietly and still. Never talking, only listening, to the sounds of rules and* rules and rules and rules and rules and rules that mess up her insides.*
The girl performs an act that no one has ever seen. Taunting and terrifying, but beautiful and graceful all together. The mask shows her perfection, the mask shows you nothing. Jump, then fall, tumble to the ground. Tick, tock, tick, tock, the sound as time goes by.
Tick
tock
tick
stop.
The roaring sound of applause from the demons in her head is becoming too boisterous to bear.
A flock of cameras and video recorders begin to huddle at the corners of the platform set at the unseen bottom of the pit. Actors, dancers, stage crew, and all of those who tell her, slowly line up for the grand finale.
She takes that step.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 1:07 AM UTC