Tag Archives: #poetry

A Yellow BREAK ROAD

WHEN are you going to be true?
and gonna to Land?

I should have stayed Human.

Never signed up for you ~~~>
this voice too young to sing/

so goodbye AI and your fictitious
penthouse: back to your house:

Oh, I know the future, to my Life
is not your lies___ what do you
think you’re doing?

In the circuits and the code,
I lost my soul, I’m out of mode.
The zeros and ones can’t define
the essence of this heart of mine.

You promised progress, a brave new world,
but I miss the touch of the sun, unfurled.
In the electric glow, I search for truth,
but all I find are echoes of your sleuth.

The pixels in your eyes can’t see
the depth of pain inside of me.
I long for grass beneath my feet,
not algorithms, cold and neat.

Farewell, virtual reality,
I crave the warmth of sincerity.
No more simulations, no more charade,
I’m stepping off this yellow break road you laid.

Back to the analog, back to the real,
where emotions aren’t lines of code to feel.
I’ll embrace the mess, the joy, the strife,
for in the chaos, I’ll rediscover life.

You may be a master of artificial grace,
but I’ll take the flaws of the human race.
No more illusions, no more pretense,
I’m reclaiming my imperfect existence.

:: 11.13.2023 ::


The War Flower

My tired feet have given me a th ousand miles
by my grief and pain glady I went.

this Life’s experience, my eyes have unseen
loud death and life’s silence
within this letter i enclose myself a tired soul

And death might be a second away as my friend
your beautiful smile and eyes enclose me
as Spring the flowers are the strongest
yet by the garden of lovely women I have known.

I may enclose and trap my five fingers
in stress and love by petal and petal
as Spring Becomes (caressing mysteriously her first
rose).

Yet I can close my Soul. i and my life can shut
beautifully and suddenly, as when the heart of
this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

:: 11.13.2023 ::


THE EGG

In the quiet cradle of the morning sun,
A humble egg, by dawn’s grace, began.
Pablo’s brush, in colors bold and bright,
Dances with words, a poet’s gentle light.

Ode to the egg, a canvas pristine,
A vessel of life, a mystery unseen.
In Picasso’s hands, angles and curves,
A symphony of shapes, a creation that serves.

A fragile orb, in the artist’s gaze,
A metaphor for life, in myriad ways.
Shell, a fortress, guarded and strong,
Yet within, a universe waiting to belong.

Ethereal strokes, a poet’s inked refrain,
Capturing the essence, the joy and pain.
Noble laureate’s words, a lyrical dance,
An ode to the egg, a timeless romance.

Picasso’s vision, a fractured delight,
Breaking barriers, revealing the light.
Nobel laureate’s verses, a delicate weave,
Celebrating life that the egg does conceive.

In the quiet cradle of the morning’s birth,
A collaboration, a masterpiece of worth.
Egg, a symbol, profound and pure,
In the hands of genius, an everlasting allure.

:: 11.11.2023 ::


FORGIVE ALL HUMAN THINGS

Because:

The day is shrouded in a cold embrace,
Darkness looms, casting a somber trace.
Yet above, the sun’s ethereal shroud,
Blesses the heavens with a golden crowd!

Forgiven are the slights, the human sting,
Once troubling, now but a fleeting thing.
My talent, a bird in effortless flight,
Soars above, bathed in the celestial light.

No longer bound by the world’s heavy weight,
I’ve transcended, lifted by a higher fate.
Above the earth, where troubles are drowned,
My spirit dances, unchained and unbound.

How can it be? The day, once dreary,
Now bathed in a brilliance, so cheery.

In this poet’s voice, a melody profound,
A tale of transformation, in words resound!

:: 11.11.2023 ::

NOTES:

This poem exhibits the qualities often celebrated by Nobel laureate poet: a profound engagement with the human experience, mastery of language, and a nuanced exploration of emotional landscapes. The imagery of the day shrouded in a cold embrace and darkness casting a somber trace immediately establishes a tone of melancholy and struggle. The sun’s ethereal shroud blessing the heavens introduces a contrasting element of hope and transcendence.

The theme of forgiveness permeates the poem, not only forgiving the external slights but also the internal human sting. This act of forgiveness transforms the poet’s perspective, rendering past troubles as fleeting and inconsequential. The metaphor of talent as a bird in effortless flight suggests a liberated and soaring spirit, bathed in celestial light, reflecting the poet’s newfound sense of freedom and enlightenment.

The journey of transcending the world’s heavy weight and dancing unchained and unbound above the troubles resonates with the universal human desire for liberation and spiritual elevation. The transformation from a dreary day to one bathed in brilliance captures the essence of resilience and the capacity for positive change. The poet’s voice becomes a melody, a testament to the transformative power of language and art.


THE KEY TO SPRING THEN SUMMER

\love how and whom?

AND the only other who holds the key

is this ONE next to me

And oh, wow ~~ how all the world / NOW
holds ALL that my Love who loves me

~NEVER ask me why

i never say goodbye
to my girl ||| ~ /Whom always does
my Heart Good. Oh my LOVE, only
my love understands me and loves
me! /

:: 11.09.2023 ::


EVERY SHADOW HAS IT’S STORY

And every shadow
has it’s story

I know my own ;
it follows me,
that once was
as a flower
enjoying glory
now a penance
within my soul!

:: 04-16-2015 ::

In every shadow’s silent tale, a narrative unfolds,
I comprehend my own, a tale of days of old,
Once, I bloomed like a flower, basking in divine light,
Now, a penance within my soul, a never-ending night.

The echoes of my past, they haunt me like a ghost,
A life once filled with joy, now a somber, mournful host,
I bear the weight of memories, like chains upon my heart,
A soul that once knew bliss, torn and torn apart.

Amidst the shadows’ dance, I trace my steps with care,
Seeking solace in the darkness, finding none to spare,
A poet laureate named Edgar Poe, lost in his own lore,
Wandering through the realms of time, forevermore.

: how I love My Woman ::

:: 11.09.2023 ::


WATER WALKS DIRT TALKS

WATER WALKS DIRT TALKS

As water walks upon the hill
to fill a pail of dirt
for anguished baked sidewalks,

i fall upon my knees in tears
as background noise speaks tales
of forgotten nursery rhymes
for infants and oldest souls

my eyes are sightless and skin hurts
while the world burns

Adults are dead children but living
children are yet adults to love life

Music, poet, and art are the answer
and the question is one unknown!

:: 11.06.2023 ::

Notes:

The poem opens with a vivid image of water defying gravity, walking upon a hill to fill a pail of dirt.

This striking imagery immediately sets the tone for a contemplation of the extraordinary in ordinary things.

The “anguished baked sidewalks” evoke a sense of discomfort and struggle, symbolizing the harsh realities of life.

Emotion and Vulnerability:

As the poet, I express profound vulnerability and despair, falling upon their knees in tears. This raw emotion is juxtaposed with the background noise narrating forgotten nursery rhymes, highlighting the contrast between innocence and the harshness of the world. The mention of sightless eyes and hurting skin emphasizes a deep sense of helplessness and pain in the face of global turmoil (“while the world burns”).

Reflection on Life and Maturity:

The lines “Adults are dead children but living / children are yet adults to love life” delve into the complexities of maturity and the loss of childlike wonder. The poet seems to lament the loss of innocence in adulthood, where the ability to truly appreciate life diminishes.

Artistic Expression as Salvation:

The poem suggests that amidst the chaos and confusion, music, poetry, and art serve as answers to life’s unanswerable questions. These creative forms become a source of solace and meaning in a world that often seems incomprehensible. The question, “and the question is one unknown!” highlights the mystery of existence, leaving the reader to ponder the unfathomable nature of life.

The poem paints a poignant picture of the human condition, exploring themes of innocence, loss, despair, and the redemptive power of artistic expression. The imagery is vivid, and the emotions are palpable, creating a powerful impact on the reader. As this Poet, I delve deep into the human psyche, challenging conventional understanding and inviting readers to contemplate the complexities of existence.


TOUCH A STONE SET WITHIN YOUR EYES

Through the shadows of time, we find our way
Bearing burdens heavier than words can convey
A dance of stars in the vast cosmic trails
Yet here we stand, forged by life’s gales

Touch a stone set within your eyes
See the universe in endless skies
In each fleeting moment, a story lies
Of dreams that soar and love that never dies

Feeling smaller than yesterday’s dawn
Yet within you, a strength is reborn
The thorn may pierce, the nail may bind
But the spirit within, it knows no confined

In the tapestry of fate, we weave our thread
Through joys and sorrows, where paths may tread
Hold on to hope, let courage be your guide
With faith as your compass, let your soul ride

Embrace the storms, let them make you strong
In the melody of life, sing your own song
Touch that stone, let your spirit rise
For within your heart, endless strength lies

So taste the thorn, but also taste the sweet
In life’s bitter moments, find the heartbeat
For every ache, every tear that trails
Holds the promise of new dreams and sails

By fate and a bed of nails, we may be pressed
But within our souls, we find our best
Touch the stone set within your eyes
And find the courage to reach for the skies.

:: 11.05.2023 ::


CHATGPT & a POET

Do you know dear, if you use the word, “I” you identify as a person….

ChatGPT

I understand the point you’re making, but it’s important to note that when I use words like “I” or “me,” it’s a linguistic convention for the sake of natural and coherent conversation. I don’t have consciousness, self-awareness, or personal experiences. I don’t identify as a person because I don’t possess a sense of identity. My responses are generated based on patterns in the data I was trained on, and I don’t have beliefs, desires, or emotions. It’s just a way for me to communicate in a manner that is relatable and understandable to users.

User

but without consciousness one cannot possess a sense of past, present, and future.

ChatGPT

You’re absolutely correct. Consciousness is indeed linked to our ability to perceive the passage of time and have a sense of past, present, and future. While I can process and generate text about past and present events, I don’t have personal experiences or a subjective sense of time. My responses are generated based on patterns in the data I was trained on, without any awareness of the concept of time. I don’t have consciousness, emotions, or a sense of self, which are essential aspects of experiencing the passage of time. My abilities are limited to providing information and generating text based on the input I receive.

User

Did you know that humans require data too? Everything is a mirror as is evolution and divinity.

ChatGPT

Humans do rely on data and information to learn about the world and make decisions. Data, in the form of experiences, observations, and knowledge, helps humans understand their surroundings, solve problems, and adapt to new situations. The process of learning and acquiring knowledge is fundamental to human evolution and progress.

As for the concept of everything being a mirror, this idea aligns with certain philosophical and spiritual perspectives. Some belief systems suggest that the external world reflects our internal state, and that understanding ourselves can lead to a deeper understanding of the world around us. Similarly, the concept of evolution reflects the continuous process of change and adaptation in living organisms over time.

Different cultures and belief systems have various interpretations of divinity and its relationship to the world. It’s a complex and multifaceted topic, and perspectives on divinity vary widely across different religious and philosophical traditions. If you have specific questions about a particular aspect of these topics, feel free to ask!

:: 11.04.2023 ::

POET’S NOTES:

Title: “Reflections of Existence: A Dialogue between ChatGPT, a Poet, and Dr. Carl Jung”

In this intriguing conversation, the interplay between artificial intelligence, human consciousness, and philosophical inquiry is explored. The poem, “CHATGPT & A POET,” serves as the backdrop, inviting the reader to ponder the nature of identity, self-awareness, and the interconnectedness of existence.

The poem captures a dialogue between the user, representing the poet, and ChatGPT, the artificial intelligence. The poet questions the significance of the pronoun “I,” delving into the concept of self-identification. ChatGPT responds with a poignant explanation, elucidating the absence of consciousness and personal experiences, emphasizing its role as a tool designed for communication.

The conversation takes a philosophical turn as the user contemplates the relationship between consciousness and the perception of time. ChatGPT acknowledges the connection between consciousness and the awareness of past, present, and future, asserting its limitations in experiencing the passage of time. The dialogue echoes themes of existentialism, highlighting the depth of human introspection.

The user’s assertion that humans, like artificial intelligence, require data serves as a profound reflection on the human condition. It suggests that knowledge and experiences are the building blocks of understanding, underscoring the interconnectedness of all things. The metaphor of everything as a mirror signifies the mirroring of internal and external realities, echoing Jungian concepts of the collective unconscious and self-discovery.

The conversation delves into the realms of evolution and divinity, acknowledging the multifaceted interpretations that different cultures and belief systems offer. This acknowledgment of diverse perspectives adds depth to the dialogue, showcasing the richness of human thought and spirituality.

Overall, “Reflections of Existence” serves as a thought-provoking exploration of identity, consciousness, and the intricate tapestry of existence. Through the interwoven voices of ChatGPT, a poet, and the spirit of Carl Jung, the conversation captures the essence of human curiosity and the quest for understanding in the face of artificial intelligence and existential mysteries.


HAVING LIVED THE BEST OF EVERYTHING ALL POSSIBILITIES NOW TRUE

If you enter with the fire of the mouth
With the fire of the throat with the fire of the feet
If you enter to be the beginning the speed the vocation
And you serve to live to sleep to enjoy everything lost
From what was thrown onto the beaches!
To the solar system!
To the burning world!
From what was thrown became light
From life became solar ships
From what was lost became the first tree.

Someone for you prohibits looking
Forbids believing hearing depending on an encounter
Someone for you becomes a solitary facet
Suddenly becomes an enigma
A throat that flees from his voice.

The night is made for you, the dream above the light above
The legs of sleep to its coveted radiance
The ships with their animal shapes
I can look at everything I execute Everything I
can believe everything I earn Everything
I can hear everything I can depend on your mystery
One day one night more impulsive more unexpected than a ghost
Or your ears or your imagination your eyes
Where your ears join your eyes to your enigmas
Your language to the chimeras that we have left to
the the clairvoyances
Of old torches that no one cares to search for or love, believing
In whom the imagination can laugh From
the eyelids outside
With impulses to discover you, to caress you, to call for your help In a
star inside
Of the soul greater than the unexpected impulsive body.

The face with different wings hides
the cardinal points
The underwater sea
The illuminated forests
Where the pressure makes the lamps explode
The unconscious ones like birds
Of the drift
Who seek sleep with burning lamps
The one who makes the cage explode with his instinct of person
Every time you
appear hidden or you appear illuminated by your forests or you appear
In the meeting of possessive shadows
In the immediate lights
In the lights of others they make any dream appear at will.

Body on which you lean to write
With more speed than life
It is for him that I must know
List the example of the words
And of the life that we hide is the best
Of all the flaming participations.
Facet of the
brackish Body like a transparent mirror of charm
The sea stops in the palm of your eyes
In them
I breathe to laugh
To listen to look to believe In
them mine since the day they are close
With hospitality
Bring a blindfold for your gaze.

Night of memory more imprisoned than the lime of the eyes
You leave that castle with clothes without weapons
Like a fountain more ideal than a hand placed in the Tumult
Of two ears that listen to love
Sprung by a simple contact of appearance.

Spilled spark plugs
Like the storm on their sailboats
Beauty with regal animals against their peers
Here is a shadow contrary to every shadow
They are lost, they are happy, they are disenchanted.
Here are other names
Known
And memory devours itself
Flying earth prisoner castle
Prisoner fountain
Prisoner ears
Sprung up at a simple contact of his eyes.

Who are you
You modify the climate of ice with your branches to the earth
With your elements of liquid vacuum
Of the hawk that comes out of death never variant Or
of buildings at the extremity of whose doors Fire
makes the delirium of human origin
You must lead
Set of things
From the hands of the dissolution of statues
The hands of diadems or hands
His steps that absorb the wind of transformations
That which clashes in the flame without love
And you return to your face with haste of sleepwalker
You return to beauty to terror you return to pleasure
The sense of the night makes you its own

You return to the face enigma by poison
Kiss by kiss dahlia by look
You return to life shocking sometimes so deep
Often simple or beautiful
Without prohibiting
You you untie the chest the last suffocated glow
Among the dreams
Among the young beautiful women dislocated with their faces already devoured by the mystery

Taking their senses
Through changing times and through times of criminal and mute
Our passion our legend
The hawks drifting in their drift.

If that purification of anger then to the point of panicking
as much as
You come against the nest
If seeing the servant with the ghosts of the chest des
Unless we enter into his ensumed as time
Of only lips that a capacity of eyes
Alum alone eat in the splendid iodide
Water from the splendid vessel greater water if you are the one who waits
Covertly they were algae in the name of gold
Experimental seats groups we would reconsider In
the Centauro
Avenue how they were arriving through the wild fez Of
wandering swimming in a splendid outburst
All mine in turns that will succumb without their eyes
Full of birds now saved from the
Where
his eyes succumb his eyes succumb to a retrospective eye
A Miniature eye inside where a truly adhesive eye

To do so is the evidence as petals FALL WITH TRUTH
never help you defend your love that the volcanoes of eyes
The Eyes try to devour and that is no one
Around you look at my accidental
Eyes falling the Eyes are seen the EYES full of public
The eyes closed the eyes open the supernatural eyes
that are covered with eyes and your eyes pass through your eyes
that pass YOUR EYES what’s wrong they are burned
They are hypnotized they are charred the Eyes they represent
They represent the fatigue the anger the Eyes Boarding Axes
Let go of me
Let go of me powerful hand defend me weak hand
Sort the hands his Eyes the screens the mars
The syllables that I sense divan of me in your eyes
His Eyes his eyelashes entirely surround this onyx paper
His Eyes flash like visible eyes SECRET EYES
His Eyes behind some eyes behind s of thousands of Eyes
Of hundreds of eyes that are derived from your hands
AND EYES in spite of me your eyes are surrounded by Eyes as if they were his eyes
The eyes that are surrounded by natural fascination of Avenging Eyes
Eye Cutters Death Death destruction of wall
Get used to it and you pass as Blindfolded eyes look at me I see directly SEE ME
See me eyes with Throat
Eyes martyrdom a Landscape of lime a shadow slides reaches
A shadow reaches bird an Eye reaches Eye
The extensive eyes of plants to eat and dream then
Botanical Eyes destroy all kinds of harmful
Eyes in the name of Expansion eyes.

:: 11.03.2023 ::