#partial
Wednesday, January 28, 2026
1:46 PM
Situational accuracy after 20 hours listening
Manchester's 1972 The Glory and the Dream,
set this historic whiling on a forced peace march.
Music is Nature Boy, any version, think of Zuma,
son of the first hippie… born soon after the song.
-------
Sowing the wind, a house divided
the reaping of the whirlwind, individuated
after ever hesitating to believe, believe me,
preposterity awaits the knowledge using we
formed from maternal truths too true
to abuse,
about face,
repent or perish, ah… men
wars justifiers are facing the heirs
of the wind, troublers
of their own habitable zones,
he who sows contention, is proud
of doings so, tuff guy, who never felt
the whump when a grenade hits home
Oh, America, when were you real, were you ever so?
Once, when we were young and heard a song ever so
- singing baby to sleep, back in those days
Was it not Nat King Cole, who loved me so
and asked my love sown in spirit wind
sure to bring back abundance too
true, I never saw a rich man,
with a satisfied mind, so ee
moving is the music made,
the inspired love, let be so
just in time, just in time,
to recollect the whying wars,
why do we have the right
to bear arms, whying wars,
if truth be told, the stories told
for money, make believe
come back next week,
for Orson Welles, as The Shadow.
The Shadow knows the ego and the id,
and is very kindly offering childhood advice,
wiser than fools allow, as they rush to defend Jesus,
from Santa Claus and then Santa Fe from accusation
too silly to sanction, of course it made sense,
life after a few agree, to look beneath,
buried deep chthonic sense sans light,
perceiving messages from herds gone silent,
receiving hope for freedom from permission,
disdeception misperception from grace taken,
free for what we just paid in mindless obediance.
Another redundance.
Peace, at last… just
a taste,
sweet it is.
Am big, U is us. Bet just one tear. We win
this once to think again, ag ain ai aiaiaiai we do,
and some of us still yodel, too.
Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 6:30 PM UTC
Spurts and starts,
by now,
any reader either understands
the method, the offering up
of a day
in search
of any good
I could do,
from now here,
in your time, after 2024,
from my time, after 1948,
accumulatively accounting
for unredeemed time ever
since… acknowledging idle words
as well, redeeming each
in good time.
Not many things I learned
to take inclusion pride from
can be called good reasons
with historical witnessing
for all
to see the likeness,
statues of men,
in bronze,
or limestone, or Portland cement,
all attest,
to this day,
to honor due
the American Fighting Man, nowadays,
they call all enlistees,
our War Fighters.
War and Victory are impressed,
on days set apart
for communal,
acknowledgement, that our God,
THE GOD OF CHRISTMAS
and Easter,
but children, when I was one,
did not link the two, the declared Peace,
was won,
by us
for God, who then froze war.
And had Nixon send the smog to China,
so then, the soot that evolved black moths,
slowly continued
to spiral
into the heights, slipping
through the ozone hole
over Australia,
trickle down soot
may haps, came
upon me,
after Easter,
and the acceptance
of restored worth,
to all on Earth,
to be recollectible, yes,
legion spirits are testable and many say
no doubt, the keeper
of the bread
of life,
He is the Christmas Jesus, and
He is the Easter Jesus, and
Wisdom,
in Logos form,
is the spirit in Truth, which God is.
In formation, in the form Gods are
all at once and everything. like
the idea allowing reality
to balance,
on point
yet, spin on, ever actually accelerating,
now that our augmented intelligence,
allows insight past the root
of excuses used since I was a child
to make me a
true believer
in American
Exceptionalism as
the we who trust in God,
and proved it
to the whole world,
by k*lling all who refuse
to say,
Jesus is Lord,
just like that, in English. no accent,
Shibboleths only worked for accents.
Rucky Blake,
password lucky break,
so solly Siri me, innocents
be mused multi purpose users
Blessed was silliness a while ago
Free time to wax poetic.
Songs of Innocense, and
Experience, as a white child, visiting,
1961 New Orleans, at age of 13.
I hated Jew Haters and ****
I loved Scientific Fantacy and Superstion,
I had survived a seven year mirror break,
I then survived disillusionment, with adults.
Bacon on Friday, unless promptly confessed,
my four girl cousins informed we, was worthy
of hell, on the balances of blind justice, wielding
the sword the laws use for Jesus sake, because
Jesus is the Open Heart God in the picture,
right over the television set, obviously,
in that condition, he is not making war, so
the priests teach us to follow the cross,
and some say, take up our own cross,
… and I really paid none of that none
of my nevermind, until
one faithful Friday, in the Summer of '61,
on the brink of Nuclear War, against
all the ungodly ****** sympathizers
and negritudenal inferior heathen folk.
Boom, baby, boom
boom boom boom… see the mushroom
signal look out now… here we are again,
it's the end of the world as we knew it,
the pain is diagnosed as disillusionment,
ment means its in your head, all in your mind,
the dread of sudden end of life, in your time,
cut short by a certain foretold act of GOD,
at the time,
I was more concerned for my uncle,
who had been so tempted by bacon,
that I asked
for when asked what I wished
to have
for breakfast, was bacon and eggs, no grits.
Yep, but…
If you were researching the summer of 1961,
in search
of things remembered
in the news,
The Brave AI, straight up lied, it told me
In July 1961, a tense standoff occurred at Checkpoint Charlie
But I was alive that same summer,
August 13, that year was Barbed Wire Sunday.
I can see a guy hung on that wire, to this day…
and doubted that true, and told my guiding AI
Factchek yo'se'f Ai ahs sayin',
come let us reason together,
serve me truth and nada mas…
indeed Ai admits, instantly, July
Check Point Charlie was later, which
is why the image of that guy links scaryshit/
that happened October 22, 1961…
in 2024, I need
to shake it off,
detailed recollection attention paid,
prior to final precepts dementia debts…
while in my own cybernetic mining operation, thinking
linking old lies used
to educate me, morally and ethically,
the Roman sense and the Greek, as
to duty we owe Jesus,
or Mary, in Louisiana, which did not phase me
at 13,
I had no clue why cherries
being rare was a joke… but bacon
on Friday,
could seal your fate more than doubting Mary's state.
And due
to my being the wisher
for bacon,
who got my wish,
on a Friday, I was as dammed as could be,
according
to my cousin planning
on warrior sainthood, girls,
could, too, she insisted, go **** godless communists,
like Custer killed Cochise.
Nov 14, 2024
Nov 14, 2024 at 7:11 PM UTC
It's not you it's me...
I'm sure everyone would hate to be on the receiving end.
Well, it is you, which is partially true, but I won't tell you that.
You just didn't make it on the list of people I want to invest my time in.
You seem nice, but you didn't win the lottery ticket.
Some other girl will award you her time, but not this girl.
Sorry not sorry.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 9:09 AM UTC
Why is it when i chase the moon it gets smaller and further away?
Always waiting for tomorrow but living in today,
I thought this journey would be brighter as the moon lights my way,
But each ditch and trip that takes me down begs of me to stay.
The air on my skin is cold and the night pitch black,
I'm worried that I've lost you and there's no going back,
A howl in the distance, i hope those wolves attack,
The moon is getting dimmer as it guides me on my track.
Maybe I'll always feel as partial as this moon,
Filled with unknown, deflated like a balloon,
Counting every breath as though I'll see you soon,
What is it that i chase when i chase that elusive moon?
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 9:33 AM UTC
Partial, in a staring contest
I see the small side, this little plastic plant
yet the leaves are colored white
How it sees beyond
I fathom, but can't
cause I know where the leaving
and I know where the none
in my front is a doppelganger
and she too, can see past
by my back is nameless man
who think he is divine
Now the world is draining colour
and I will hear the miming sound
like a fallen light in star dusts
a meteor that don't shine
shaded in lengthy numbness
it buried to the ground
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 4:06 AM UTC
Words can be lies,
Truths,
Or partial truths.
Don't believe what you hear all the time.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 11:22 AM UTC
she folded her tongue
around my
wooden
fence
post
dreams
we can still
feel her scream
she folds her
tongue
?
...
..
.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 4:04 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Separate the pollen from the bees and,
Trouble on your mind for the long run,
The intensity is growing don't know if
You could stand,
Looking for your troubles ? Well here
They come,
I hope you know I'm planning just to
Take a stand,
Getting your pride smashed isn't a lot of
Fun,
Better be greatful you weren't born in a
Can,
If the flying ******** wanna talk,
Get the bread crumbs,
Practically a woman's world just remain
Being a man,
Most people nowadays solve problems with
Guns,
And most days I don't really understand,
/
I said it's good ......
To be locked......
In your love.....
I wish you well.....
On your travels...
Cry like a dove....
There's no way..
I could say...
All I want...
Yes they fly...
All away...
From a single stomp....
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
*I’ve created a world
Of my own,
It’s in my mind
Safe and sound.
I’m the only
Citizen of it,
I live happily
By my own rules.
I’m inviting you
As a guest,
To peek inside
Because I like you.
But you know
It's not a glimpse,
It's much more
It’s a journey.
You will start
Loving it,
As the time
Passes by.
(It will happen,
trust me!)
Don’t forget
That you are,
But a traveler
On exploration.
Don’t Demand
Citizenship one day,
As I will
Definitely decline.
(You needed to ask
and that’s not right.)
It’s not that
You can’t be,
A part of
My world.
If you
Are a part
You’d fit in
Perfectly.
(I hope so,
I Sincerely do)
It will be
Something magical,
That will happen
Naturally, unknowingly.
You wouldn’t feel
The need to ask,
And I wouldn’t feel
The need to answer.
We’d only
Feel our worlds,
Expand and
Become infinite.
All my dreams
Will be yours,
And all yours
Will be mine.
As even I
Am a visitor,
To your world
For this while.
Loving is
2 people,
completing
A puzzle.
Each one
Missing dearly,
A few
Critical Pieces.
Each one
Having just,
The perfect
Partial view.*
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
‘Round the world and pieces of me,
So speaks one body come a –
A bad night’s blood spatter in Sioux City,
Lonely little toenail clippings swept Dubai,
Whiskey scented stubble, London nigh Paris,
Oh! The calloused skin round bend,
Wrought broken, my lovely Kyoto,
And maybe, just maybe,
A heart or five elsewhere.
So when the tooth-clerk barricaded
Dusty Chinese counter-top asked,
“Do you want to keep them?”
I responded and with haste, “yes;”
And with a thieves hand,
Snatched my two molars removed.
For I’d already left one too many
Pieces of me here, and though
It was only a tooth, I hadn’t much left.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
Truth is relegated to oblivion
Whereas, grandiloquent lies, win
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
When you walked out of my life
I was sad
The day you came back
I realised that you're a pain in the ***
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC