Ventura Poem- "Stopping for the Game"

“Stopping for the Game”

Peppermint lips soar out of combustion through many
carbonated atoms between external molecules
for which Hawaiian calzones are smitten with
the real felt wisdom as exactly presented; in my
local vocabulary, I’m digestive when you do me
a favor across the broken street from shuffling
utensils at a giant Ralph’s, Ventura in maintenance
over tropical shadows after darkness shines irritated
with hard lamp posts.  There might be sprinkled
cement around the bend before Moon Drive or
retained diets under bubbling caps- for that matter,
Junipero Serra’s mission is dead because all
wild peace of a settler’s disclosement often
exaggerates travelers into reflective separations,
just like an Indian sees cattle bladders with
some natural guys and prays with odd faith
beyond an evening tide.


https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com

Free Verse of Power Outage

“Power Outage”

Latex paint exaggerates with sunshine to melt

all power against onion soup while it forms a

mixed dip out of Christmas breeze, hanging

through oxygenated waves across from a

poster’s fuzz towards a silver apple where

creaking table splinters go between those

sugared creams of both Twinkies.  I’ve got

a footer by evergreen spruce.  Some carbonations

reek dry above a few unglossening tables as more

than a hundred seaport puzzles share intertwining

keys of that cardboard stuff, labeled with advanced

tokens over specialty glue of which a trekked,

mellowsome doxen-bugle demands personal meme

until Cajun turkey is promised and predestined

to permanently wished dishware.  A king like me

sleeps in beauty to get confused dreams about

germ-like monstrosities, windowed chalk, and a

boardgame market of nice expanse distills

beyond growing controllers.  You won’t find

a picture even if you get my meaning- so much,

a lot between gravitational nomads in outer

universes and magnetic planets lets me slumber

after tea gives me a fortune for peachy generations.

Context of meaning leaves so many roots for which

I converse with too much salt on my wisdom,

almost like two nickelodeons out of a 90’s radio

with twin cassette tapes.  Who’s going to pepper

the lemon on an oceanic boardwalk where pelicans

sneak in commotion for dramatic gamers as silent

as level-headed birds are or American flags leave

shadows on R.I.P. plaques?  Sure, it matters if I

talk.  Let’s spew out details in a colorful flow,

so rainbowish and reflective, yet a snowflake

made of cotton hangs where the Popeye machine

died.  Any loss lets you have disappearance again.  

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/power-outage-2/

Classical Music Review, Beethoven: Symphonies 5 & 7 by Carlos Kleiber

Classical Music Review, Beethoven: Symphonies 5 & 7 by Carlos Kleiber

Such a classical tribute to Beethoven here is smooth with even appeal.  Of course, I’m talking about sound waves which get softened by their peaceful interactions with each other and it’s assumed Beethoven works with his head, or else Kleiber wouldn’t be working with his head.  Music in one mind can go on to some other mind, mi casa es tu casa.  You don’t need to speak a foreign language to understand certain kinds of classical music until you realize one needs help with natural means of expression- in particular, Carlos shows so much boldness with having sounds mixed with triumphant harmony, so, between strong sounds and weak sounds, there’s a nice mixture of softeners in the music which holds you in for blasts of air, thumps on the tracks, steady forces of progress, and subtleties reflecting the classical expression of a flow to which Beethoven works out in his busy mind.  When a musician starts with reflections of sound to continue having them throughout the creative execution, either magic happens or intellect type is obvious.  Talking so much about classical music makes my eyes burn, or else through desperate measures I attempt at proof for my fairness which occurs whenever I take up this album and dream of fantastical output, hence- where I’m sitting in odd happiness- mom knows about my musical appetite as channels are wielded with Amazon Music.  Being courteous to others is dramatically simple and yet while going broke I pick up Kleiber’s work with emotion in understanding, all of which (due to modern shifts of time) leaves me stiffened with horrible relaxation: “I’ve gotta be awake for classical music.”  Does anybody remember where the comma exits from implications for my critical judgement?  People across the world seem to be so… paralyzed.  Maybe folks go here and there with awareness of great art because fashion can press against us with alluring choices, thus I’d complete my listening with parallel thoughts with others’ and resume favorites with extreme prejudice.  Kleiber has that soft touch, a glowing magnetism for which we’re connected out of a digital system of presentation and representation- which of the last two words indicates the appropriate generalizations without harming readers with knowledge?  Magnificent work like this doesn’t have any more needs to fulfill since its characteristics are safe options for the expression.  After mentioning “expression” in my imaginary reflection on Beethoven’s classics presented, trains are visualized in my mind because- since symphonies ought to remark of extravagance in some way, shape, or form- chains of movement typical on subways and busy street corners go between our fissures of reflection, like music does.  (However, don’t try playing this music off your phone without earbuds in one of Sacramento’s buses; there doesn’t need to be forty different albums playing at once!)  So, what’s my connection with Kleiber?  For one thing, you have to be a good customer if you want to be a good business man and, from the likes of things as I see colors switching themselves on my phone to indicate Kleiber’s progressing tracks, and since classical music off my CD player can involve digital and analog means such as tuners and finger-press functions, a flowing combination of spirit and intellect is needed to understand classical music; otherwise, you’ll sleep in a horrifying state while listening to classical music, behavior which may be confused as being pretentious when, really, when push comes to shove, Kleiber exhibits Beethoven with the sheer sound of magnificence often with assumptions and important thoughts. 

https://www.amazon.com/Beethoven-Symphonies-Nos-5-7/dp/B00EHULZAS/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1514612335&sr=8-3&keywords=beethoven+symphonies+5+%26+7+kleiber

Videogame Review, Nano Assault Neo for the Nintendo Wii U

Videogame Review, Nano Assault Neo for the Nintendo Wii U

This is more theoretical than effective.  All easy levels make you feel like you haven’t done anything and all hard levels make you feel like rocks are being thrown at your head every quarter of a second.  Nano Assault Neo is not a technological source for plasticity whether it’s from crazy means or provocative knowhow- in particular, the vibratiuncles are worse than the pretentious start-screen music, gear for weaponry feels like crossing stones without pleasure, the worst enemies are horrible jerks of magnetism, and such a game’s demanding beauty requires you to beat your head against a wall until you’ve psychologically and physically made it asunder, pointless, and fearfully dead.  Repetition is the constant mantra in execution for which you must either lose your mind, get stupid, become a masochist, or turn into a gamer with the full-time job of doing nothing but mostly empty work.  Whereas Zone Ranger for the Atari 5200 is a shooter with plasticity, wild management, exotic lasers, and points of encouragement and transcending progress, Nano Assault Neo has the third item (exotic lasers) with irritating equipment, dumb fortune, repetitive damage, and uninteresting choice of enemies.  There’s more of passionate flash instead of increasing difficulty.  I’m hardly told by this Wii U download where I am and what my enemies are.  Although Nano Assault Neo is “modern” or the impeachment of old times of gaming, everything reminds me of a bad 80’s novel because any and all enemies just seem to be things without proven destiny.  Quite simply, bad guys shouldn’t and don’t need to cling to my ass while I’m conducting a scientific experiment on the insanity of shuffling gamers.  Who is the #1 guy with that mightiest score of hard-to-earn points?  Is he even alive?  Baseball is a lot more of an approachable game than this work of garbage.  I want dynamics with more specifics, interesting flow of action, a confident outlook, features between features between features, not barren fields and demeaning stalkers.  Nano on the Wii U reminds me too much of rape documentaries and I feel so helpless in the battlefield that crying my interest hurts more than worry.  Soybean futures are greatly exaggerated in my imagination and Nano just slaps me in the face with immediate disrespect.  Have you read about gummy bears on Deviant Art?  My gosh, appetite in my soul can’t prosper when gummy bears are as disrespected as Nano’s cells.  Maybe I’d want to explore the problematic tangents more in Nano, to get from point A to point B to point C to point D, etc.  However, once I’m finished with the few levels there are, I can only bang my head on disasters which continue to smack me mystified and dumbfounded.  So much complaint is my life story on this application: I randomly die, with hushed glory, but totally in absence of bodily fun, enough twisting veins, curious hedges of indoor flesh, and even the juggernauts fail to be intriguing slugs with very attractive entertainment.  By my philosophy on horror, I guess so many moderns are the whispering fairies of execution or else I wouldn’t be here listening to jazz off my corrupt tv.  Ranting is not my forte unless I give reasonable dispute over hot-and-trot universes or, besides the fact that I can’t spell all English, little tiny spaces in my mind lead me to doubt this work of modern cliches since human anatomy, psychology, religion, thick political mist and atmospheric touch let me soar in negative judgement for which I attempt at practical favor for the readers rather than sadistic fancy.  Just avoid this game because it’s teary by less-than-complex-enough means.  It’s a tragedy, a loss, confused horror and suicidal comedy.

  https://youtu.be/IzJ0kTu5Kvg

Photo Attribution: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nano_Assault_Neo#/media/File:Nano_Assault_Neo_Logo.png

Chicken Poem for KFC- “Vibratiuncles in Bold”

Photo Attribution: By Matt.morris00 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

This is a place in Hong Kong where colors and letters almost entwine together to form a vanishing effect of extravagance.

“Vibratiuncles in Bold”

I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken
I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken
I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken

I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken
I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken
I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken

I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken
I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken
I want chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken

So, what do you think of my poem?  I don’t see any chicken!



https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KFC

Videogame Review, Donkey Kong Jr. for the NES (Wii U, too)

Videogame Review, Donkey Kong Jr. for the NES (Wii U, too)

Details flourish into great dynamics of motion.  Donkey Kong Jr. on both the Colecovision and the Nintendo Entertainment System are chunky, but such a program on the latter system is more smooth with a flow and is more dramatic from being less improbable of execution.  Honestly, the monkey game is simply great on either system because Donkey Kong Jr. climbs desperately to rescue his older, related ancestor from the clutches of Mario, who guards such gorilla father with a pipe while overlooking traps, the traps laid out either by accident or by the very carpenter named Mario Mario.  Shall we call him Double M or M&M?  Okay, maybe I’ve lost my bridges toward the greater outlook on videogame life as one gorilla stays put while being rescued by his moving son.  Perhaps Donkey Kong has deserved that prisoner position as well as getting unlucky for Donkey Kong Jr’s slips of mistake: both monkeys really need to take a break, go on vacation to Neverland, take some banana energy drinks, and head over to the Mario Kart Tournament where they’ll make ends and odds meet.  Controls on this here program for the NES are retained for fair practice even when Mario pulls a stunt on the younger gorilla or monkey or whatever with chew toys and winking sparks.  Continuing to go further into the madness only invites more complicated fissures of gameplay against the wide expanses of stimulating duties towards gorilla father rescue; however, when push comes to shove, awkward circumstances lead to odds and ends for which players deny beauty and horror all at once since destiny is the technological key beyond recognition (at least beyond recognition with sheer progress, although a bird’s egg may ruin junior’s suit by imaginary theory for which smart witness presumes).  Nerds are more than welcome to play this home-arcade version as long as they don’t have BAD sportsmanship- that is, when proper reason is dismissed too much by animal instinct on the part of such players, who complain long after the kingdom is destroyed or burn up in silence.  You see, Donkey Kong Jr. is very much an influence for adventure after imaginary environments provide resources for drama and gameplay despite the fact Sony and Microsoft are quite afraid of fictional invaders to the point of either company releasing games that hit on fashion rather than so much unreality, but I feel like saying, “Come on guys, you’re probably expecting Star Wars more than Nintendo games, what’s the difference?”  Star Wars has been the galactic accolade of gaming whereas Donkey Kong Jr. has been geared towards the knowing collectors of antiques and modern evidence suggests there’s more support for a universe with alluring robots.  For one thing, there aren’t as many funny monkeys in games as there are machines and deplorable cell phones, so I question the wits or the lack of humor thereof from today’s gamers- old and new comers alike- before just calling out “FAIL!” towards such diminutive accessors.  Personally, Donkey Kong Jr. has comedic intention and the recent ninja turtle movies have failed to demand beauty of nostalgia in all its confusion, madness, and sincerity; there’s excessive force on violence down our throats with little in the way of imagination and child-like intuition, so much arrogance of the pretty flesh in Hollywood that I begin to like Donkey Kong Jr. more and more for its presentation of gullible exaggeration.  False corrections in politics in the U.S.A. have rendered the Donkey Kong games as nothing more than silly figments of the past- whereas materialism of the 80’s demands notoriety through wild imagination, any and all materialism in the modern era commands on narcissism and obvious-than-knowhow doubts.  I’m sure to still remember Kodak and friendly customers at Kmart in the past while Donkey Kong Jr. lets me dream more of the finished events, the old glow of aptitude, true differences between accomplishment and failure, and Mario gives me the shivers while the younger gorilla fits keys for a falling ceiling and Donkey Kong assumes privilege of abstract, cartoonish rescue with 80’s flare.

    https://youtu.be/63YrcVzSvNA

"Cotton Candy"- Photo of Californian Traffic in the Mountains (Abstract)

"Cotton Candy" by GameUniverso (I had influence to be under)

Distortion of mountain traffic in California.
Joining the public without being as unreliable as the public is impossible.
It's better to determine traffic.

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Cotton-Mountain-721967415

Videogame Review, Mario Kart DS for Nintendo DS (Wii U, too)

Photo Attribution: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mario_Kart_DS_cover.jpg#filelinks

Videogame Review, Mario Kart DS for Nintendo DS (Wii U, too)

All 3D is provided with real special effects over controllable action.  Bridge after bridge are magnified with close encounters until drivers just seem to be the back end of the whole spectrum between qualified dimensions, so, while Mario sails through each detailed course as manipulative for progress while graphics turn dynamic, sweet, and alluring, a princess travels on lit pavements toward a variety of little universes.  Mario Kart DS and Mario Kart 64 differ in minimalism as do a small burger combo and a huge bucket of fries.  What does that mean?  It means Mario Kart DS is more a superior combo of features whereas Mario Kart 64 is exorbitant with less variety of details.  Unique values are demonstrated on the DS with great choices of motion, dizziness and taste at once, along with environments with special temperatures in look and feel even if karts are pushed against treading wheels when the going gets tough, fun, interesting, and vivid in colorful difficulty.  Honestly, ghosts on Banshee Boardwalk float in privacy during the onslaughts of bats near two chimneys and plenty of physics throughout the game resemble plenty of physics on RC Revenge Pro, a racing game on the Playstation 2 with more complications and roughhousing than Mario Kart DS.  Enough is interesting to see when drivers pass by one another with alluring motions, although (whenever I’m tired and deplored) I sneak in a ghostly item before running my wheels through various obstacles like a worse-than-reality apparition.  Games with Mario and Japanese flavors can be wild and cuckoo, almost with too much extravagance of love and Bowser’s mutated royalty, but boxes with gloss are picked up on the road to freedom as travesty is shielded by mannerisms on the part of adorable drivers.  Witnesses near the racing roads can act as struggling jaywalkers.  Only a few parts of Mario Kart DS are minimalist forms; other parts do more than justice on our demands for artistry.  Hence we’re at gameplay to show ourselves how such appealing trials may extenuate fresh power, and yet… I’m thinking funny warehouses and harmful clocks, or cloudy vines or an awkward jungle by the sea, where input and understanding are concerned.  Planes within technological features often downplay the magnificence in graphics like those of Flashback on the Sega Genesis: sometimes we get a product with a combination of only extremes whereas Mario Kart DS provides varietal beauty and horror in cartoonish form, so my best judgement over that lost-wielding Flashback can just let me ascertain dynamics and magic to the point of confusing entertainment.  The Mario Kart I speak of here is dramatic and yet effectual with meaningful cliches because each course, including chocolate and ghosts, is layered with desired camera angles- such as high cliff points and constructed abysses- until certain maximums of game presentation can be refined with dumb shells, great dirt, imaginative outgo, and destructive grabs in a player’s flashing draw.  My writing is tangled with definitions here and there since the vision in my head pretty much confounds the peace of nature in my latest soul towards readers and Mario Kart has to exist where I can perceive it with gusto and fascination or humor and wonder.  I’ve owned quite a few variations of the DS machine with progressing favor and duty, to match my appetite for similar feels against getting even while my terrific glasses allow me to spot graphics in highlighted characteristics, between my personality and the Nintendo DS’s two-screen flash of extravagance toward stylus manipulation and fun.

           

https://www.amazon.com/Mario-Kart-DS-Nintendo/dp/B000A2R54M/ref=sr_1_1?s=videogames&ie=UTF8&qid=1514175998&sr=1-1&keywords=Mario+kart+ds

Restaurant Review, Dunkin’ Donuts in Tehachapi, California 540 Tucker Rd Tehachapi, CA 93561

Restaurant Review, Dunkin’ Donuts in Tehachapi, California

I dream of subtle mornings where the donuts are scrumptious.  With my voice and feelings, I can recall the sour cream in one donut and remark on the autumn sprinkles for another.  Dunkin’ Donuts sells lots of donuts with special features throughout the year, so my enthusiasm for delicious bites and little Munchkins must be verified when I say, with motion in expression, “I’ve got lots of hashbrowns with an alluring taste and Tehachapi is bright with local sunshine.”  Getting ahead of myself is easy once I recall whatever flavor there is on iced coffee such as mocha, blueberry, white French vanilla, or other sparks of appetite.  Dad and I casually go here once or twice a week to pick up snacks we may use for the short road trips home and so, without further ado, we’re generally kind and precious in our references to great tasting donuts, packed breakfast sandwiches, alluring hashbrowns, everything you can imagine except for things DD may not revolve on.  Okay, maybe I’m teasing.  But with such rational love, such grace of appetite, along with soybean futures and change of pace, I’ve hardly enough sugar while the going gets tough, even when DD has determined a huge atmosphere with glowing tables and coffee canvases.  Lamps between odd spots here and there only reveal the secondary light we use for comfort and mobile prestige although more than enough footsteps softly disturb the ambiance, which I describe for this sort of coffee-and-donut house as being awfully quiet with exception of kitchen equipment, Drive-Thru murmurings, and cashier locations where numbers get finished by workers in casual but personal aptitude.  Honestly, when push comes to shove, mom likes the wide expanse of the modern parking lot and the wind almost informs us of great streaks of color around us for which DD ascertains with functioning confidence.  Don’t tell me, you haven’t been here?  Well, my voice in this review may be exaggerated when imitated by a stranger looking at my feedback for DD, but generally I’m wild and sweet when giving reference to Dunkin’ Donuts (DD) because, whether we’re pulling in the lanes or going after dining tables, total understanding is key to the gingerbread cookie donut since it provides me with something crunchy in bits, nice-tasting frosting, and lots of Christmas flavor.  What a lobby, what clean atmosphere to soothe my wishes above normal ground, managed and equipped with special materials to show coffee lovers the general imagination to be assumed by pictures and designs for appetite.  Has anybody noticed that some restaurants at times take down decorations and designs whenever people are enthusiastic about them?  I’ve seen such occurrences at fast-food places in particular but maybe, just maybe, excitement can get us spoiled for the holidays, even as simple measures take on extraordinary odds while we’re consumed with daily tasks, workaholics, dramatic taste and pleasure, anything that goes with it.  Now don’t be bashful: rage at the supermarkets can bring us closer to demonstrations by DD after old holidays are remembered for coffee and donuts, almost to the point of exaggeration when our minds get crammed with pleasing mottos and discounts.  You see, I can explain why people move and my family gets the parallel effects of imagination through story and relation; however, when push comes to shove, DD gives us fantastic donuts in the sense of observing unique recipes and laying out the goods in time for the holiday rush (which seems to always occur), although I grow older for counting on my favorite donuts in the face of T-shirts on sale, specialized coffee mugs, bags of drink flavors, other lovely items, etc.

Videogame Review, Pac-Man Collection for the Gameboy Advance (Wii U, too)

Videogame Review, Pac-Man Collection for the Gameboy Advance (Wii U, too)

This is a fulfilled variety of Pac-Man for understanding the dot-eater more. Quality experiences occur again and again to create a wonderful gaming experience in the sense of getting tiny bits of different gameplay toward a fictional quality of greatness. Twists of color go here and there so that hardcore arcade players can share the light, to go at odds with special days ahead of them while graphics display the magnificence and don’t use more bits of information power to make environmental courses worse. Yes, Pac-Man is very much an obstacle in of himself because the sheer ability to pick up dots is akin to a dog’s sniffing out of footprints, all except for the smelling part of course, so I’ve taken the yellow guy and traveled through various mazes, and more than enough lucrative tunnels may take you on a wild ride each time you pick up the coloring gameboy and hit it on imaginary worlds of colors’ strength. Someone who supports Ms. Pac-Man over Pac-Man is most certainly sexist. The whole Pac-Man family has induced through programs until a great emotion is felt by all and we can’t forget why we’re here: to understand Pac-Man through more than just his original, first game, and to go off the deep end with other programs which give off colorful strength of progress, even though Pac-Man doesn’t always jump or get a powerful dot to travel at the speed of Pac-Man. Of light, whatever. If you find me irritating for saying this, maybe you need to remix your imagination until enthusiasm is key to the totality of comprehension. Pac-Man can be so big in 3D because he takes prominence where it counts- hitting a tunnel, cornering an edge, speeding through points against ghostly time, to make or not to make fruit chewed on by an odd mouth, everything that can be said of Pac-Man’s imaginary goals. On this game for the Gameboy Advance, Pac-Man is to be understood as something larger than ordinary frame; the yellow eater is accomplishing puzzles which require point-obtainment, fruit calculation, truth in advertising, confusion in the labyrinth, directional flow, and so much false sound for a ghost’s slow world domination in fantastic blue disguise. There’s great feat in tunneling for Pac-Man since he’s along obscure dimensions toward haunted mansions, although to chew on so many dots overtime must cause the need for magical jaws for which Pac-Man can transcend on madness before extraordinary organization of gameplay demonstrates his appetite. Now, don’t tell me words such as I’m expressing them can’t join themselves on historical references for Atari and Namco while machines get deeply tested; gameboys on Earth vary in presentational matters while colors on and on get transformed beyond ordinary discourse for which fictional games like Pac-Man Collection may turn out imaginary profits of gaming like entertainment and spiritual extravagance. Pac-Man here reveals dynamics within hardcore levels as well as novice beginnings after fictional environments continue to show demanding beauty through features like point-earning dots, sacrifices of vanishing fruit, entering out moves between holes and more shades, trauma over Pac-Man’s digital frailty, ghostly happenings after costumes are eaten for bonuses, and so much to explore of Pac-Man’s alluring little universe. Pac-Man Collection takes all dynamics in progress towards effectual action in demanding beauty when the whole dot-eating family is implicated in video game history as serious gamers discover bits and bits of dramatic information in the form of hardcore arcade titles with magical invention.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iU486p6SAOc

Photo Attribution: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Pac-Man_Collection_Coverart.png#file

Photo of Cell Phone Tower

"Vanished Cell Tower" by GameUniverso (I was hungry on the road)

This bumpy pole was by the road where we were traveling and it camouflaged with the bushes somewhat.
So I've moulded this piece into a brilliant, comic exaggeration.
All you have to do is live with specifics.

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Vanished-Cell-Tower-721308861

Photo- "Mojave Metropolis"

"Mojave Metropolis" by GameUniverso (I chose a video game nickname)

It's in California and typically mentioned as the City of Mojave.
What industrial greatness!

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Mojave-Metropolis-720968465

Videogame Review, Mario Kart: Super Circuit for the Gameboy Advance (Wii U, too)

Videogame Review, Mario Kart: Super Circuit for the Gameboy Advance (Wii U, too)

Wild driving as it’s exaggerated toward grace you can experience. I’ve contradicted myself over the past year because of how the game’s distanced forms of beauty make me travel in my own mind against turtle shells, even if one pretty red one likes to saunter after my rear while I break the ghostly item- beauty at its glory can turn your sides to exact points of attitude, leaving you bare and graceful, the super circuit to be understood as its own dramatic effects of magnification one can observe through reckless driving of comedy. Mario Kart on the 32-bit Gameboy Advance has better 3D than Mario Kart on the 64-bit Nintendo 64. Not all bits are created equal. It’s important for a programmer to manage the limitations to the extent of excelling at the odds and determining any and all barriers with special effects requires such active imagination; reactive personalities in the world of programming can extend on Mario Kart by pinpointing over energetic action to progress through dynamics until a specialty in video game creation is determined from angles that can be proved by their resulting product. Do I speak of one or many? Mario Kart on the Gameboy Advance has proven its worth since graphics here are lengthened and distanced with great perception, varying between haze and solid air whenever power is at demand for creative programming. It’s fun to go into heated traffic of racing in a kart and to whir by presents as they all seem tucked in with loose ribbons, colorful flashes, tasteful appearances, and almost-exotic colors. Feelings in my technological soul have transcended on midget racing to give myself less restraint over all important matters despite the fact that Bowser’s terrific lava just spills inside its mad waves in my head, although the kingly course of that chaos burns within such stillness through actual shades of demonstration beyond irritating hope. Let’s consider the courses. We’re going into the perfect rides in order to bring home fun, prestige, dynamics in color and push, something to handle on our side while eyes confuse all brilliance until beauty flashes. May we pull off the directions and get home safely with earned trophies just in the nick of time? Quality of performance is laid out in colorful links which give us the key to freedom even if all matters seem private. Going against all odds can be a good thing, but, through my dynamic experiences of playing hot games, maybe we should be leaving with those odds, especially as power transforms such beauty until a note is left on the door and mom goes to work. Yes, childhood often involves excessive amounts of privacy and lots of gamers have chosen Mario Kart in any form even if there’s no realized beauty for the fortune of generations. Of course, I’m speaking of childhood versus quality, like dreams against hope, although Mario Kart in general has provided racing to game on, an attribute that can be said of even its worst productions- all statements are wordy, all rumors we remember as adults and children, such quips, such hints, our love for Mario Kart on the Gameboy Advance to be justified because of its quick extravagance, its terrible reality, before shells get underway and I’m gone for more sessions which fill up my irrational love for bumping into silly weapons. Mario Kart: Super Circuit, the game I speak of here, transcends on cartoonish madness while birds fly away into the heavens with forced grace and mice become astronauts on cheesy land with tempered fangs; beauty here is a lovely mess, the kind you grow older for counting on, when power in layers gets better with old age, as antiques are sold in stores and video games are outnumbered by the growing masses, hence we leave this Mario Kart as its exaggerated visibility when hope seems to be founded with wit and admiration.

https://youtu.be/awF8rvh6bXc

Restaurant Review, Tom’s in Rosamond 2642 W Rosamond Blvd Rosamond, CA 93560

Restaurant Review, Tom’s in Rosamond

A sweet restaurant like this keeps me going.  I’ve had nacho sauce on my burger with moist bacon and taken a look around at the decorated lobby while understanding this cola named RC, which happens to pour out of a fountain behind the cashier’s counter when a Christmas tree is shared by the audience, a spicy mixture is laid over a burrito or two, my dad chats away on weird trees by the local post office, and teenagers gather together in assorted tables for coolness.  There’s a great undertaking to a restaurant like this if we consider the logos, treats, special burgers, dream-like shakes, or even subjective materials like cups and ketchup bottles.  Okay, so maybe things get out of sorts through surprises, but such fantastic situations are coupled with enthusiasm on both sides and workers determine customers as a shoulder to cry on.  After serious matters get under way and I’m sitting across from rows of tables with appetite, prestige, and passing tunes, the crew still may roam around the place in small bits and take food orders to the next level.  I’m a relaxing critic in terms of delicious food, refills, and good attitude.  It’s especially true while I’m around here.  Perfection is a constant mode of satisfaction for the workers as they juggle tasks- yet we’re together in the same lobby, the same menu, the same radio, and the lobby around us may show its beauty in tiny ways, real, real tiny ways.  Mom tells me food is getting hungry and I respond with quick joke, “Food has been coming around here for some time.”  Nacho cheese is very delicious.  Problems occur at this joint in Rosamond where black birds fly into trees outside and progress is just example.  Silly food goes with dramatic smiles between us or else I’m determined for smooth jingles on radio up over the ceiling.  Cashiers usually take prominence at the counter when the lobby isn’t dirty enough or too many guys are hungry under the roof, yet I’ve found my spot on numerous occasions while Christmas decorations are as facial as familiar toys.  Did I mention the bacon?  Well, meats become handled by the main chef so he can serve them piping hot, hence a few sliced pieces of steak can soothe your commotion upon family, friends, and wild strangers, and someone other than critics may hit the lobby with conversation and great experience.  Try considering my theory in the last sentence and making progress out of life’s beauty: you’ll know your way around.  Hints in the lobby are generally positive since beauty likes to make its craft known in extravagance, even if the sign you see on the mirror at the lobby’s right side is filled with cartoonish light against a smiling sun’s peaceful background- this statement is my mentioning of a sign with logos, which appeals to the dining lobby in the same way that Toys R’ Us in a city far away shows its true colors.  Bakersfield is close, too.  Rosamond itself is a hot spot for relaxation because drama doesn’t go on so much.  Cities like Sacramento and Ventura are busy with distress signals whereas Rosamond is very peaceful with smooth motions, almost like a good person’s home.  My family is here for appetite on demand.  Tom’s is more than just a handful; magic hangs in the air with wild features as workers take command of promotional schedules morning and night.  RC Cola is another type of soda with impacted difference and I sample Mexican food with satisfaction, prestige, and outlook, although mom tends to get spiced up with eventful meals and alluring emotions.  Go to Tom’s today and, I absolutely guarantee you’ll find reason for love: Christmas is a nice meme for good food.

Poem on My Mother

“Love at First Site”

Grease leaves their hands black since malters
carry baskets to fry against checking salters
near a wall’s fresh paint, hamburgers for swirled drinks
at some crowded lobby of dancers even if one fry sinks:
no, I don’t just mean this lonely sombrero for the holidays
or even truly know cats around my town. Being cool in the rays
is appetite for missing cola since I’ve sensed guac
along the yellow brick road toward pictures of Everest rock
and even held analog controllers- you know, devices
with funny buttons and a dream-like occasion for splices,
returning home with the Kardashians trend
in blogs I spot in the morning sunshine with a “friend”
or sampling coffee from Columbian tumbleweeds. Dreams
seem to be a nurse’s promotional schedule up streams
of data for mom, yet, we’re coming along to an emotional
bookmark between ourselves in summer heat, international
as the weather is for American exhibitions with random
history or our casual moments during the bumblebee’s hum.

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-at-first-site-4/

Mountain Poetry

"Mountaineer Village" by GameUniverso (me me me me... bad singing)

I see a green night.
Such one moment brings me closer to freedom.

https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Mountaineer-Village-720279673




LOST IN TIME

With the lost, lost in the glade,
 with the conversance of a tail,
 between times that tick or remove me only.

Angry Poem

“Anger Management” 

A real padre is tonight into night checking around, 

the first with his serve of low fresh bait. 

His mother is a pet who flips the tacos he catches, 

to an hour made he says. 

How they see the exit and stay for house at home. 

There’s a Baja Checkerboard, 

dad has nothing to push for his reel. 

Kings can jump, 

and he’s slow to die against a golden palm. 

He clicks numbers, rolls with a blade. 

Hell has become white, but he shoots coffee, 

leers into casual news on a lover’s paper. 

Together he becomes for tonight, 

along the pool-haven by Sun Village. 

Away from his call for a free car, 

as he begins with his opposition to Giant Chess. 

Spur to wheel, making gross heaven. 

Poem- "Between Stones"

“Between Stones”

Pine cakes in a loose skillet, myself across the
missing puzzle of greasy sugar toward Gotham
at some hero’s cooked wing. Maybe it’s lost sesame.
So many words to imply delicious disappearance…
I’m over, beyond sassafras, near those individual preparations
of jewels at a mall with forbidden faith- that is, my mind.
Such deficit of attention leaves me with four mosaic eyes.
A lizard grows into unknown measures. Evan’s unreal
wedding, like urban magic and rural cure, appears distraught
with random exhibitions after bison is sampled from

two shivering rodeomen. Has anyone forgotten the
dusty yarn around the fiery Skirball? Before you go, remember
the ducks. I hurt the environment with bread and wonder.
My thoughts have lost air and my hair’s grilled against
the dying Betelgeuse once more. Dad has shot down Mars, too.
Japanese tubs are bleeding in reflections at the heat
for dented fish.


https://gameuniverso.deviantart.com