#powerpoint pattern play

My Friend 04.07.26 By Kevin R. Mitchell

Something about the way Life ebbs and flows today Everything is better now No matter what they say

Thinking about time then Once upon the very end I’d get back in line again To chance another spin

Still knowing everything Is about how it could go Until then understanding To take good times slow

Mapping out moments Capping where’s to be Owning each decision Seemingly sowing free

Standing near the spot Where life comes easy At an edging periphery Play it cool and breezy

Burning from their start Hitting marks for a part Creating one thing real Showing how we’d feel

Showing how we’d feel Creating one thing real Hitting marks for a part Burning from their start

Play it cool and breezy At an edging periphery Where life comes easy Standing near the spot

Seemingly sowing free Owning each decision Capping where’s to be Mapping out moments

To take good times slow Until then understanding Is about how it could go Still knowing everything

To chance another spin I’d get back in line again Once upon the very end Thinking about time then

Doldrums’ Beat 02.27.26 By Kevin R. Mitchell

Setting tempos to progressions Pattern plays, across our times Running logic, streams to verse Words weight one line’s rhymes

Spoken through, a discerning taste Paints a cave’s carved sacred date Preserved in amber DNA’s scandal Whole plots misplaced like rambles

Compelling as indecision Buy, foresight’s precision Circle of Iron telling tales Set sails, doldrums’ wind

Scrambled thoughts honey anointed Unhinged as snake’s jaws disjointed Swallowing folds upon to space time Redesigned residuals dimensionless

Frying bacon and eggs for biscuits Chicken fried steak takes the cake Braking bread, refills rarefied heirs Baking cookies cooling, tills the air

Compelling as indecision Buy, foresight’s precision Circle of Iron telling tales Set sails, doldrums’ wind

Without reason, forms one kind Traveling matte, making history Time’s tripping, unraveling will Dripping well considered spills

Sounding out doubt’s words in mind Rounding thirds, headings for home Disassociated focus, a flowing zone Running a hot streak’s rolling bones

Compelling as indecision Buy, foresight’s precision Circle of Iron telling tales As once told Jonah wails

Tower Of Babel (Contemplation Of A Point)

A collection of poems and artwork from many years ago and today (October 26, 2025).

Organized into 6 Volumes

From Cover to Cover it is 670 Pages.

https://krm4069.itch.io/contemplation-of-a-point (Where PDF is available)

Sticky Sweet 12.26.24 By Kevin R. Mitchell

Not unlike too much cotton candy Just before I’m riding a tilt-a-whirl Caught up in joy at a county’s fair Entropy gets hold of me unaware

Applying over indulgent patterns Pays out as trouble in their hurls Consumed into a dire reversal Mires form unfortunate worlds

Something in the sticky sweet That was once a favorite treat Returning along forgotten drama Is burning like acid reflux trauma

Always trying to stay the course Believing into some force of will Resolved talk lasting until hoarse Aghast becoming another corpse

Once upon our time and space Always sifting from some place Trending on past high and low To shifting gears fast and slow

Twisted spiraling into back before Hearing again beyond some door Once upon forms from our mores Soaring like long-forgotten scores

Like ash bereft from fires put out Nothing is left within one’s doubt Forming as a scream and shout Into a dream of what life’s about

Turning words as to written heard Learning earns us once bitten pie Assuming weighs will live and die Burning churns into why why why

We’ll stand in line hoping to try Tasting too much cotton candy Just before riding life’s tilt-a-whirl Caught up by joy is always unfair

Beware as entropy’s pill takes its hold Pleasure’s pain wills our story unfolds Trickster’s rusted key long ago foretold Dusted covers a cautionary tale of woe

Moderation’s a foe upon its shelf unsold Left unchallenged sows brave and bold Believing in its a victory to just grow old Becoming invisible from once invincible

Along a life languishing forgotten untold Groaning gears shifted from high to low Climbs every steep hill steady and slow With a stacked deck wins entropy’s flow