over drops

as i listen to the rain
can tell you your heart means many things
quiet dignity
hope and caution
breathing deeply
i remember the times when i would not notice
framed in my own worries
i hear so much more than rain
i hear completion
happy or sad
achievement is level because has been made so
staring into the night
rain heard but not seen
i see memories and complex undertakings
now to relax and know
there is more to continuing onward
more to life and regrets only get a smile
now
as i hear the rain
and admit i’m only human, yet
human is many, many facets
of confusion
peace a treasure
as the world passes by
i am glad only to be consumed by sighs
feeling stunted
this world cannot express
enough
i want to see your joy
bridge past every disappointment
because some deserve better
myself a nothing
a nothing listening to the rain
knowing i can only reach part
of soul’s
ancient flow

sometimes life sees tomorrow
sometimes tomorrow
doesn’t matter
lifting eyes to say a quiet prayer
so ends this day…
listening to rain
closer to the face of every love
i have ever known

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Freeman of the Cuspy Rounds

reminded all about, hiding in the crevices
darkest before the dawn
differentiation is a line

spin the view inward
spin the view outward

riding on hopes for perfection
riding on maps of continuance
on the plot, the plan

riding on ways to hold yourself
steady
riding on ways to believe yourself
good

on the nature of dark
on the abeyance of light
on ponderous determinations of bodies
cells
microscopic regurgitations of FORM

riding between the concept of blessings
inside the notoriety of gifts
looking at forever and deciding alternatives
to death are exhausting

riding on the statutes
on dictated redemption
on every part and participle
riding the breakers that take you out to sea …

to see …

to ride the quest of knowledge
and every dogged attempt of CONTROL

grasp understanding and dismiss collective construct
collective rule
the very exact design and practice …

collective deception

all agreeing grass is greener
skies are bluer
worlds will always spin
because destiny always has ……………. agreed.

riding

…………..the spiral

the causality that has one;
one perfection
one continuance
one plan
one way
one belief – to an answer that leads to a belief …
one nature – definitions
one abeyance – gravitation – abeyance …
one determination – – questions – determinations …
one consumption – swallowing -consumptions….
one concept – of commiseration into concepts …
one notoriety – building fashion that causes notoriety …
one alternative – requiring an alternative an alternative …
one statute – opening statutes on statutes …
one redemption – leading to forgiveness needing mistakes for redemptions …
one part – desiring segments and then parted segments …
one breaker ………………….washing foam into the next wave

we see our own creation as parted
multiplying cells
is it so? or is that only our sight
turning all the shade of ruptured and spiraled
design
the trap
the fractal breakage

…………..all leading to another
and another ………

each a fount of its own need.

twists of causality
spirals in out
turn
dance

frolic every head
to bits and pieces

all for artistic
perception

solidification of SELF
who
what you think you are
MORE important
MADE more important in spirals …….

………….than what you DO
all you DO, then
is chosen to reinforce who you ARE
what you see or want to be ARE

all turns
the dance of convoluted hope
in foregoing SELF DIRECTION
YOUR pause
banked on the spiral

mine resting on tender lines
lines of action
stemmed with mercy;
to draw the lines and move.

no opposite methodology works the board
each opposite known and plotted
the puppetmaster’s strings …

each opposite gripped
in a spiral of causality
burning the notion outward
ONLY moves the spiral in
burning it in only moves it OUT

forever spiraled in deepening ruts of Opposing Conditions
justification via poor leadership quantified
in poor design

traps
the blessings of hatred
in bugs bunny holes marked by elmer fudd and his
dying wishes ……

don’t mind me

straight
linear
marking paths that do not
reinforce their own need …….. to move
to exist on fractured lines
deny the spiral its ache

run where no predictability can find your assurance
hide where no hope can match combing directions

broken sight and sound in singular for steady eyes
mended sound and sight on the curves of skin feeding galvanized ears …

step to
step on
no reinforcement for the next … because the next is new

all new
every every day

lines of survival
gifted to extensions NOT needing eternity
linear and new forgoes eternal spins!
the dogged eternity
of the spiral
the trap of hell that hell only knows …

when any faith is born on lines
from un-predicted tomorrows
a path of NO design
plots with no point and no none to see redundancies through

to where it SLAPS! gifted in prediction … is the next
line going to follow SENSE?

the lines in true generosity
needing no other

paths lived once
not to be repeated
but to decorate eternity
in singular understandings of worlds loved

loved and removed

removed and every distance created by
owning yourself

six and a half one …

so last night i got windows 10 loaded onto the thinkpad ok. now the thinkpad can think…

for the first time, windows loaded all the necessary drivers. i still had to replace the video and touchpad drivers—but still is nice to know that they don’t plan to leave the less-techy out in the electronical cold.

i feel feverish and achy this morning, like it’s never going to stop. wish i could replace MY operating system — but let’s face it: those drivers and circuits are so old that nothing is going to be a good fit.

all can do is pray that tenacity pays off. and that’s what i kind of hope for in bringing old hardware back to life with new software — a payoff for all that tenacity. for the years of service a machine gave while being gleefully bonded to a human.

you thought they don’t feel? i imagine they do. not to get creepy-weird about it or anything. but i do think each has its own personality and responds to different touches. kind of like how you have to learn that this car pulls to the right and don’t hit the breaks hard or you will wind up as a hood ornament.

you know, when think about it — people like me will say they like machines because there is a consistency of response. it isn’t like those crazy people things we call humans. but couldn’t be further from the truth, they are EXACTLY like humans. built by humans, what do we expect?

so i have high hopes now for the little old and run down machines. maybe Windows 10 is going to work on them, and my relentless badgering of Microsoft has paid off. i doubt it, btw — am sure it is all the machine. that it finally just gave up, and said “Fine! i will run your stupid software. but don’t expect me to be Cortana — i have dignity, you know!”

sometimes i think we “update” our software all the time. and it’s not about learning new things, it’s about new ways of learning. new ways of processing and going forward. i like to think we can do that, and change for the better. batteries wear out, but that happens to everything. thank god for amazon….

stacked and fueled

it feels like the end of the world was yesterday
and today doesn’t know what to be
if feels like i forgot who i am
but doesn’t matter because who is counting, anyway?
feels like nothing will go right
so right has to be wrong
but then what became of wrong?
wrong is the nothing
mired in forgetful nonsense
on the edge of the universe….

it feels like a swirl of chaos has captured my feet
and i have no knees left to pray
it feels like everything i liked is a shadow of stupidity
like the next pass is the last chance
and no ring is going to fix this ride….

it feels like i told you a million times
…life is what you make it
but what if we run out of legos?
there is cream for the coffee
there is coffee for the coffee
roof is not leaking for a change
and i ran out of excuses

in the dark
overnight
life is a swirling vortex of might-have-beens
it feels like the last scoop of ice cream
that’s not even homemade

it feels like i will beat every demon
because there aren’t any demons
it is all here
all an essence of

just me
sitting in my chair wondering
why i bother to hope

and what has hope done to kill
action
it all turns around right
thank God for a Keel
i am not ashamed and some day
living with that will count

outside of how everyone feels…
best is yet to come
right around the corner we have deliverance
but it’s not mystery
it’s not something never seen before

repetitive betterment
it’s the mundane
the everyday wade through piles
of memories and designed regrets
it feels like no amount of wishing

ever got me more wishes

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for the better need

memory is betraying me
short term madness
yet i don’t worry
and i don’t know how to explain why i don’t worry
it’s about being practical
seeing a little bit beyond my own
grand image of what i was supposed to be
be be be be be be be
goals that never fit me quite right
statues
the impressive model for a role…
was always about planning to not measure up
yet not so much about shooting the foot
as it was about measuring the holes

i was curious long before schoolhood whys were drilled into
the neverending battle for comprehension….

before it was sad to play all by myself
collecting dandelion seeds
or walking from school and picking honeysuckle

i was me, then
as much as i am me, now
what makes that different is that i cry
when i think of all that being me
over all this time….

it’s like a rock in my chest
so i fight around that and take another breath
my throat closes and i can’t stop crying

i don’t think it’s because i want to be a kid again
part of it is losing that childhood
tragedy
but then i wipe the tears and sigh

my eye’s mind turns back to looking forward again
and i know who i am

i know what i was supposed to be and never did any of it
and what i’ve done that nobody thought could ever be accomplished

and i was better then, but i’m better now
if you asked me what i fear the most
i’d say i fear this world
the gears turning
people everywhere following their lines
yet mine are simple and always the same path

some of us hang on to the self of each past
the stages in growth are all a single thing
yet it’s different
than not ever growing up

more like you were always grown up
like memories are stored to always fit where you’re at

i don’t worry too much
on sadness and how it’s hard not to be lonely
(i like being practical because hands-on bursts
with so much delight of knowing)
it becomes wider portrayals of how everyone is seen
alone is assumed to be hopeless
dancing with despair ….and
i suppose smiling to myself IS kind of a waste…

but not so much
i always managed to find myself staring back

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