Long Actor Poems
Long Actor Poems. Below are the most popular long Actor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Actor poems by poem length and keyword.
Robert Sherriff 08/07/1954 - Australian - Poet -Author - Singer - Actor - American Historian – Photographer
The Rising Tide of Cyber Warfare and Military Robotics
Robotics - Ex-Machina In the evolving landscape of modern warfare, cyber warfare and military robotics have emerged as pivotal elements reshaping global conflict dynamics. From covert cyber operations to autonomous drones patrolling warzones, these technologies redefine military strategies and geopolitical alignments. They said it all started at Westworld.
The Role of Cyber
Warfare in Modern Conflicts Cyber Warfare as a Strategic Asset - Inception Cyber warfare has transcended its initial role as a supplementary tactic to become a core component of military strategy. It enables state and non-state actors to achieve strategic objectives without deploying traditional military forces.
Through cyber espionage, denial-of-service attacks, and misinformation campaigns, nations can disrupt adversaries' operations, weaken their economies, and influence political outcomes, often without firing a single shot.
Case Study: Stuxnet or Sky-Net
One of the most notable examples of cyber warfare is the Stuxnet worm, a sophisticated malware that targets Iran's nuclear facilities. This cyber-attack, attributed to the United States and Israel, demonstrated the potential of cyber weapons to inflict physical damage on critical infrastructure, highlighting the strategic value of cyber capabilities in modern conflict.
Implications for Global Conflicts Cyber warfare's asymmetric nature allows smaller nations or groups to challenge superpowers, shifting the balance of power and introducing new uncertainties in international relations. The blurred lines between cyber actions and conventional warfare complicate responses and escalate tensions, increasing the risk of unintended consequences.
The Evolution of Military Robotics and Autonomous Systems - I, Robot
Advancements in Military Robotics The rapid advancement of military robotics, including drones and autonomous vehicles, is transforming the battlefield.
These systems enhance operational efficiency, reduce human casualties, and allow new tactical possibilities. For instance, drones provide real-time intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) capabilities, while autonomous ground vehicles support logistics and combat operations.
Robert Lloyd Sherriff - Australian Poet, Author, Actor, and Model: American Historian.
Robert Lloyd Sherriff - Australian Poet (Born: 8th July 1954)
Robert Lloyd Sherriff - Follow if you want to be a better poet
An Ode to the Unbridled Spirit of Creation
In the quiet twilight of creation, where thoughts whisper to the soul, an untamed wildness is yearning to be set free. Deep within the heart, soul, and mind, the seeds of expression find their nurturing ground in this hallowed space, waiting to bloom into various colours, sounds, and words.
In the limitless expanse of the imagination, every heartbeat plays out like favourite melodies tinkling away on ivories under practised fingers. Music that not just echoes in chambers of the self but resonates through the ages, carrying with it the essence of its creator.
And oh, to paint the sky—a vast and undiscriminating canvas! With bold and gentle strokes, we call upon the palette of our emotions, blending hues in ways so profound that they leave even the divine in awe. Each colour is a word; each brushstroke is a sentence in the universe's grand narrative, celebrating the spectrum of human experience.
In the dance of words, written with enthusiasm uncontained, the pen becomes an extension of our deepest selves. Each phrase is a footprint left for eternity; every piece is a potential masterpiece that whispers secrets to those willing to listen even three centuries hence. What are words, if not vessels of our truths, dreams, and fears, cast across the temporal sea in hopes of reaching kindred spirits?
The beauty of creation lies not merely in coherence but in the chaotic symphony of expressing everything and nothing all at once. In the liberation of thoughts, unburdened by the constraints of conventionality, we genuinely connect — heart to heart, soul to soul. The essence of our being unfolds, touching others, enriching well-being, and bridging realms between the inner world and the outer universe.
As a poet, this is my plea—an invocation to all who dare to dream, to feel deeply, and to share unreservedly—serves as a beacon for the weary, the dreamers, the lovers, and the seekers. Your poetry, art, and song aren’t merely a reflection of your life or a tribute to those you love; they celebrate existence itself, connecting threads in the intricate web of human experience.
Don Pardo: Born: 1918-02-22 - Died: 2014-08-18
He’s been gone from SNL
We heard he wasn’t feeling all that well
Don Pardo’s number came around
The Lord was calling “Come on down”
Lauren Bacall: Born: 1924-09-16 - Died: 2014-08-12
Finally the sound Bacall longed to hear
I guess Bogie learned how to whistle this year
Robin Williams: Born:1951-7-21-Died: 2014-8-11
Robin you kept us in stitches
Of comic minds yours had the riches
If your mind had a filter
It was always off kilter
Your death was the greatest of glitches
Richard Kiel: Born: 1939-8-13-Died: 2014-8-10
Richard Kiel was the great villain Jaws
A man with a few minor flaws
He stood seven foot two
And you knew, you just knew
As a bad guy he’d win our applause
James Garner: Born:1928/4/7 - Died: 2014/7/19
We watched him in The Rockford Files
Victor Victoria brought us all smiles
And the great Maverick, Bret
Who could ever forget
James Garner was nothing but style
Johnny Winter: Born:944/2/23- Died: 2014/7/16
Johnny Winter, as thin as a splinter
And white as the fallen snow
He kept us amused
As he played the blues
Till it was his time to go
Tommy Ramone:Born:1949/1/29 Died: 2014/7/11
Tommy Ramone didn’t play the trombone
But he was a drummer of note
He played with his brothers
And never no others
For Hall of Fame, he got my vote
Casey Kasem: Born:1932/4/27 Died: 2014/6/15
Casey Kasem they treated you wrong
Stole your body, we looked, it was gone
Fighting for your estate
Until you were “the late”
Your passing would make a sad song
Ruby Dee: Born: 1922-10-27 - Died: 2014-06-11
Ruby Dee how can it be
An actress of your worth
With awards galore
You should have won more
Before you were yanked from this earth
Ann B. Davis: Born:1926/5/5-Died: 2014/6/1
Here's the story of a lovely lady
Who always played a great supporting soul.
Schultzy with the late great Robert Cummings
In the Brady bunch, old Alice was her role.
Till the one day when the lady met her maker
And we knew it was much more than a cold,
Ann B. Davis’s career has finally ended
And that makes some of us feel too damn old
Bob Hoskins: Born: 1942/10/26-Died:2014/4/29
Bob was an actor, a man with a face
That only a mother’s love could embrace
And in spite of that face, he became a great star
Bob Hoskins we’ll miss you wherever you are
This persona, picks up the mask he placed beside the bed
And the actor, feels the lines he’s already read
They hang their syllables on his tongue
As they breath into his lungs
Answered by a soft restraining sigh
As he buries the reasons why
He no longer wants to be a part of this
It’s a footstep, taken through a place he no longer feels apart of
As he is cut by the angles of the brick
As they force their intrusion with their ugly, scraping intercepts
While his eyes hunger for the leaves
He hangs poised between their branches
Floating through the spaces between the grass blades
And sees the prison bars
Everything, including him constructed
This persona, so ready in its plastic skin of parody
Hopes that it appears to be an acceptable front for normality
But behind his hungry eyes
His separation dances in the skies
He’s not crazy in the spin, but some insanity beckons him
As the prison bars grow wider
If he could only just step through
And release himself from all the things
He thought he knew
As the day break, drips onto the essence of sublime
But his heart ache, tells him that he really doesn’t have the time
The repeat run between the gears
And his place amongst the cogs and wheels
Smoothly jerk upon the performance of their strings
Just like the puppet of himself, his day begins
While every piece of litter he calls his dreams
Are blown into the shadows in his soul
The eyes see, but they don’t see anything anymore
They are a horizon, on a beach of some distant forgotten shore
While he hungers for the trees
The open fields where nature breathes
He fights to break his own perception
Alone in a prison cell of his own making
Every thing about him is scratched into the unyielding brick
His persona, so ready in its organization of plastic skin
Prays that he executes a well played part in normalities theatre
But behind the sadness in his eyes
All he was has slowly turned to lies
When he touched upon the truth every person keeps inside
The desperate aching in everybody’s heart
To be free of all the deceit
Which stole their lives, from the very start
And as the prison bars grow ever wider still
He asks for the strength to just let go
He prays for the courage to step through
And pick up all the litter of his dreams
And release himself from all the things
He thought he knew
Mein kampf synonymous as a blooper
Writer of these words,
a former Lower Providence inhabitant,
who dwelled within darkest depths
of Dante Alighieri's inferno
for most of his outlandish, impish,
and devilish growing up years
witnessed microscopic scrimmage,
where spermatozoan with most forcefulness
muscled itself handedly,
magnificently, and splendidly
envision unicellular olympic competition,
yours truly swimmingly
begot during the heat
of parents being passionately fruitful
courtesy diploid erogenous frisson
between my then searingly
robust virile father and fecund mother
~ late March/early April 1958
ushered seminal moment
post ova fertilization realization
courtesy male gamete
penetrating zona pellucida
a glycoprotein layer surrounding the oocyte
triggering cell bait multiplication
subsequently yielding male
gendered offspring and sole son
hashtagged as uber twittering, snapchatting,
shutterflying super duper
cute little boy with short strawberry blond hair,
whose solitudinarian nature
became quite evident when he displayed
acute social withdrawal
upon off fish shill commencement
getting schooled as a grouper
by mister Hooper,
who made his debut
appearance on Sesame Street
November 10, 1969
as storied and staple long time resident
on above named television show
until March 18, 1983,
beloved by adults and children alike
within make believe community
(a conglomerate of real and imaginary locales)
peopled with proprietary named characters
for any of a number of humorously grotesque
glove or rod puppets and marionettes,
chiefly representing animals,
first popularized, idolized,
dramatized, capitalized, and actualized
by the children's television programme
Sesame Street (1969-) and more recently
in The Muppet Show (1976-80).
Also: a toy made to resemble one of these
ingenious brainchild of Jim Maury Henson
an American puppeteer, animator, actor,
and filmmaker who achieved worldwide
notability as the creator of the Muppets
which series originated as two pilot episodes
produced by Henson for ABC in 1974 and 1975.
Henson's shocking, sudden death occurred on May 16, 1990 of organ failure resulting from streptococcal toxic shock syndrome. An emotional memorial service was held five days later at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.
"The streams are my veins."
Can you hear the drum beats of fear as do I?
Does the mere sound of these fears make you want to CRY?
You don't want to believe it, and hope it's all a 'Big LIE'.
Whether true or false, it's best to bid our fears GOODBYE.
Some say that the 'best is yet to come', and others say
that the good old days are gone and never will return.
Some say that the 'worst is yet to come', and others say
that the good old days are gone, but better days are yet to come.
Yesterday is HISTORY, but today does not have to be a MYSTERY,
nor does tomorrow have to be filled with gloom, sorrow, and
MISERY. You did not pour the glass; whether half empty or half
full. Even when dealt cards we don't CONTROL, we still must be BOLD.
Even when we are often TOLD that the entire deck has been RIGGED;
Or that the troubled waters that we see below have no BRIDGE above.
Although not a brave one, it does appear that we stand on the precipice
of a new world? A brave world does not self-DESTRUCT, but finds ways and means to better its COMSTRUCT.
Can we leave the world into which we were born better than we found it?
Whether or not the future is misery largely depends on our belief system.
Have we a belief system that flows like a river unclogged, free and clear?
Or like a stream of fresh living waters gushing unhindered through a creek bed? I pray that I might be a conduit; and may the streams be my veins.
By a most reliable source, the Bible, we are told that 'we spend our years as
a tale that is told'*. In a movie, the words of one actor to another were,
"There's no normal life. There's just life".
Is the tale of my life being told presently;
Or must I fly away before the tale is told of me?
Me thinks it is both, but we write the tale presently.
If history repeats itself, perhaps it's because humans won't CHANGE.
If history repeats, perhaps we thirst for control and ill-gotten GAIN.
It is said that to repeat things, hoping for change, defines INSANITY.
Me thinks that life is not a 'crapshoot' but dominated by choices we make.
On a cross, one man chose and said, "If you BE....". Another man chose and said, "...Remember ME". *
080122PSCtest, Let your Muse Be Inspired-R Form, Constance La France
Contest Theme #2: "The streams are my veins." 4P
*Luke 23:39,42; Psalm 90
Seventy thousand years and we are still fighting over religion.... Not the best
image to hold anything up to and then praise
I can only tell u pieces of this mystery my soul tells me again and again
Of why the world is like this
Revolving around the truth of four sentences
Three planes of existence
One prophet here to become a god and be come like a conductor of an intricate
train set
I have witnessed beauty turn ugly in time
And summers go cold in the winter
And as my godmother creatively throws me away to remind me I'm truly not
human
I look toward the telepathic dreams I have of giants
to rediscover the driving force
As to why we are trying to hunt down men overseas working to revolutionize their
backyards
That they have spent living centuries of terror in
Backed into a corner of horror and mental anguish and pain
Where all they could do out of survival was rise against
Even if it meant with equal force of carrying a gun
Jesus spent 3 days in hell
struck a deal with the devil
I spent centuries there to crawl from that nightmare to be born into this one
To find the footsteps and pieces of the shattered veil of ignorance being bliss
I believe I am more of a hero for being more of a man for taking my punishment
I didn’t deserve
For a test he failed
That turned my joke into hell and blackmailed a favorite angel
to come to this earth to try to understand man's plan to fix whatever the prophet
that is there between the lines of destiny
predicted pulling strings wove and his vengeance struck down
70 thousand years of betray al and punishment
Living in a dark place amongst all of this god’s pain of paranoia and mental
anguish I thought was mine
To realize the prophet full well knew this destiny was coming
and all he could do was cry
Now living in this s earth of oxymoron’s and questions and hunting shadows and
footsteps asking questions myself and finding answers I’m learning to read
between the lines
3 days is easy of a punishment you don’t deserve for a test of betrayal where as
a favorite angel punished for an eternity for god's will to become an actor is an
enlightenment only the prophet with his four demons can fully comprehend how
to mend
Looking at the mirror
with good day’s pleasure
I see slothfulness’ glamor
taunting with delight’s leisure
Yet ready to attack sense of honor
defying time-worth’s treasure
So defiant; not a generous donor
offering gift that costs much pressure!
I challenge you, my body’s indolent suitor
upon your procrastination’s grandeur
I’m aware of your wastefulness’ color
since programmed schedule you want to injure
I fight you for putting me in meaninglessness’ rigor
against unjustified torture
Dampening my work-ardor
by your entertainment-indulgence culture!
Face now my spiritual fervor
straightening your laziness-posture
I vanquish your terror
that’s underestimating my devotion-measure
See how I combat fruitlessness’ horror
striving for a productive future
While trusting God with His grace-anchor,
I press on by His might so sure!
Don’t shake me with doubts’ tremor;
I confront you upon truth’s nurture
You'll be overtaken by my Conqueror
… just prepare for a painful capture
Never dare me; you’re a deceitful actor
trapped inside reality’s exposure
I’m driven by the Victor
Who has mastered very well human nature!
Along my stewardship’s armor,
I smite you with discipline-censure
Having the Lord’s good favor...
I dominate over your lethargic displeasure
Upheld by His strong succor,
I subdue your destructive gesture
Trained by my champion Mentor...
I arise toward faith-performance venture!
Thus, by diligence-motor, ...
you, spirit of the sluggard, I adjure
Yield to the task-commander’s tenor
…follow work-ethics’ procedure
Escape from vanity’s galore
…be prodded to toil and endure
Girded by hardships’ candor
…stand up with zealousness-feature!
Opponent of losing savor,
Surrender your worthless seizure for healthy cure
Accept that you’re beaten by genuine labor
midst your impatience-tenure
I thank my Savior for righteous valor
making me win on persistence juncture
Guided constantly by the Director,
I persist in His triumphant service-business* pasture!
Personification with rhyme form
*Romans 12:11 Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord.
April 7, 2019
Edited on May 13, 2020
5th place, "Shutter Speed" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann; judged on 5/18/2020.
I was reading Lakoff's story
of what he learned at Berkeley
about international relations,
when I found my RightBrain offering further nuance;
not to deny what is here,
but to add what is also here,
but not explicitly stated,
about regenerative ecopolitical health and safety.
"The 'rational' approach to foreign policy was governed by a set of conceptual metaphors,
taken as simple common sense,
as metaphors [of and for regenerative v degenerative systemic processes] often are.
As a special case of An Institution
is a[n Organic-Holistic-Interdependent] Person,
there was A Nation is a[n Organic-Multiculturing] Person."
"In addition,
a common metaphor for rationality is used,
namely,
Rationality is the Maximization of Self [as organic subsystemic part of MultiReGenerative Other]-Interest (or 'utility' [as health-wealth fertility]),
which entails that it is 'irrational' [and unhealthy] to act against one's self-[intergenerational WinWin multicultural]interest[s].
These two metaphors are then combined to yield:
A [Healthy, Happy, Secure] Nation is a Rational [Organic TransReGenerational Polypathic] Actor[ess]."
"...we get as an entailment
the central thesis of the [organic] rational [trans-regenerational evolutionary] actor model
in international [interfamilial, intertribal, interspecies] relations:
Every [healthy] nation
acts [bicameral] rationally
to maximize its [health-wealth] military [Yang] strength [prosperity],
economic[-ecological hybrid] health [and happiness, with long-term defense of safety],
and political [cooperative polypathic] influence."
"Rationality,
on this conception,
is taken as
[discontinuous, deductive-only, reified, either-or] universal
and occurring at the [technology, tool, framing, modeling] level
of the
[organic, living,
matriarch nurturing,
ego/eco-loving,
bicamerally mature-evolving] state."
I feel so eviscerated.
Get over it.
Both-and;
not either-or.
You still got all your parts,
just more integratively co-aligned.
Yes, ma'am!
Who got out of bed on the wrong side today?
Don't even try it.
I'm going back to my "Political Mind" without you.
Doubtful.
And, if possible, dangerous.
You really aren't going to let me have the last word today are you?
I thought I was your last word,
your everything.
' Angel does not appear from heaven but comes to rescue in guise of stranger or associate
lending a helping hand.'. ....Poet.
When my older daughter got established abroad,
younger one left for higher studies.
At that stage
worst critical situations arose blocking my journey of life,
My friend’s brother stood beside like an angel.
He protected me acting as a strong shield
behaving like my own brother lending a helping hand
Both daughters were far away from me.
He turned my own sibling snatching full affection.
Owning theater-group he was an amateur actor.
Local auditorium was booked for whole week show.
He valued my comments as a precious advisor and offered
me season ticket for all the scheduled shows.
On the last evening I reached the auditorium.
It was completely closed without any trace of light.
I was not informed of sudden change of the programme
Gate -Keeper declared’ At late night he passed away
on massive heart attack'.
It seemed to me I could collapse and almost to faint.
Just last evening, I watched his cheerful comedy.
His apartment was only ten minutes walking from my house.
About this terrible tragedy none informed me.
I rushed to meet his ninety years old mother.
He was the youngest and most lovable son.
Heart attack syndrome was detected last night.
Doctor failed, nothing worked.
Ten years old son and young wife were left behind.
My Angel appeared when I was extremely distressed.
Now he stays alive in my mind only to mourn :
No solace , so hard to accept, he is no more.
Colors of my life had been erased displaying
dull pale torn canvas.