In scales of steel, the city sleeps
Where dragon laws in darkness creep
The streets are veins of ancient stone
Where freedom's blood has long been flown.
The towers pierce the smoky sky
Like claws that grasps and never die
The people move with careful pace
Under eyes that watch each secret place.
Through gates of fire, the rulers pass
Their shadows cast in endless glass
Where every breath must be confessed
And dreams themselves are put to test.
But deep within the burning core
A spark remains that dares ignore
The chains of law, the weight of might
And whisper still endless light.
If not nigh like dotcom bubble
AI seems in no small trouble.
GPT five’s failure,
Would the rest regain roar?
If ever rise from near rubble?
________________________
Happenings | 02.09.2025 | technology, USA
Note: Is AI a bubble, too much hype and boisterous babble? Is a bust coming? GPT5 admitted a flop show. Nvidia gave but a modest forecast. MIT study: 95% of dreams failed to deliver… Time was when adding ‘.com’ to a company’s name boosted its value. Today, adding ‘AI powered’ does the same trick. Too much is being expected from AI too soon. Anyway, AI seems to have hit a wall. Would it scale it to move ahead, or a precious stone turn a pebble? This ditty wonders.
The Stone Pulpit
Norway has many fjords and dramatic mountains
The water in the fjord is deep blue and clear as
a baby's tears that mirror a part of a mountainside
where a big rock has a flat top, attracting tourists
because it looks like a pulpit
Many visitors enjoy the thrill of sitting on the edge
of the pulpit, and deep down there is the blue sea
For a depressed person, it would be easy to let go
I would have thought the murderous edges would
be fenced to stop such a suicidal attempt
I wrote about the danger, only to be censored by
Facebook, which is monitoring my post
I was also advised to seek help for my fascination
of people whose problem I can only imagine
Stone Idol Worship
. for public domain
She gives me heavy stones to carry,
and from the other cliff,
she calls for me to hurry across
a swaying old rope bridge.
"I've shrines to build and pujas to sing
to my dearest Hindu dieties,
flowers, and hotras, pleasing spices to offer
before the daylight ends."
And as she calls the wind blows hard
through the darkening chasm yawn.
Braids of the bridge squeak from the strain.
I shudder, and chillingly creep along.
On clumsy day of morning fogg
I woke up to reality
To check my beloved sanity
A stone became the chosen one
It was picked for his services
A hard son of soft rock,
A tough block, a rough block, indeed
Destiny knows his path
Growling wind observed the scenario
First flight took Mr. Stone to few feets
The desire was to Re-release
It left my hand to reach space
My head became a Crater by double pace
The stone lives in my head since then
He was first where the headache begin!
I was looking at a dying man who was asking me for a stone I had in my pocket. He wanted it to survive, but he was a sinner—because a book said he made fun of people and abused them. I watched him grow pale and wondered: should I help him because of his situation, or let him die because of his deeds? Then I thought, why should I care? And I continued walking along the footpath.
They said, “You’ll never change the stream,
Your plans are just a restless dream.”
But stones don’t fear the water’s voice -
they stand, they hold, they make the choice
to shape the flow, not drift away.
Around me, currents laughed and spun,
the gifted boats sailed in the sun.
Yet in the deep, I learned to stay,
to read the tides, to find the way
where rushing waves could not betray.
The years went on, the river turned,
and bridges stood where stones had learned.
Those who had mocked now crossed with care,
forgetting they had once stood there
to say, “It’s wrong - it can’t be done.”
I do not need their late applause.
The river bends to deeper laws.
And those who stand when all else moves
will find the strength the stream approves,
and greet the rising sun.
Old friend, so comfortable in your chair
(steadfast and anchored, safe in your harbor,
hear me before deciding I am daft.
I fear I am no longer of this earth,
having become unmoored in time and space.
No one sees me. I am invisible,
drifting, and awaiting another storm.
I will accept your judgment, ever sound.
I've never set foot in New York City,
where my great grandpa made wooden horses,
and where my great grandson graduated
from the Columbia Space Academy.
Yet can't you see the Hudson in my face,
and Northwest Passage in my frenzied eyes.
Am I not Henry Hudson's wand'ring ghost?)
please tell me, is my killick stone or air?
Stone
Millions of years. Billions. Witness. Witnesses
A stone. Solitude. The river. Life. Sad this love
Stone. Loved. Needed. Felt. Damaged stone
Waited for a woman. A dried cracked stone.
Walk. Let it be home. Lifestyle. Illusion of love
Find. I need. Sit. Just. Down. Bench. A stone.
My life
Loved
A woman
Stone
Her
Love
In the quiet of my lonely room,
Your laughter echoes, a distant tune,
Time zones stretch, and miles divide,
A love once close now feels like a sigh.
Letters linger, words on the screen,
Each message a hope, a flicker unseen,
Days turn to shadows, weeks follow fast,
Memories whisper of glories past.
I trace the outlines of your face,
A map of longing in every space,
Night falls heavy, the stars feel far,
Each one a promise, a lingering scar.
Phone calls bring comfort, hearts intertwined,
Yet silence breeds doubt, am I still aligned?
Time shuffles onward, its cruel design,
As we chase the clocks, your heart—half of mine.
Yet in the silence, a truth I find,
Love knows no longitude, nor ties that bind.
Though distances stretch like an unending sea,
In dreams, my darling, you’re still right here with me.
A Rolling Stone
She’s weird as a broom stick, that witchy woman
That crazy, shonky, HONKY TONK WOMAN
On Monday she’s ANGIE, RUBY TUESDAY
Wednesday and Fridays it’s Glorious Rose.
What’s in a name? She sweetly asks me
I smell as good - why not change yours?
Ye Gods, What TUMBLING DICE did you roll?
What Shonky Tonk woman sent you me?
Its hard to see what was in your plan
Try as I might I just can’t see.
But wait a while - she’s UNDER MY THUMB
And now WILD HORSES can’t drag me away
I know YOU CAN’T AWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT
But give THE ROLLING STONES some sway
Don’t PAINT IT BLACK, in a pall of despair
Try roll with the stones, and challenge her dare.
It is a dawn, my love did call
as misty rain on fields did fall
l wept for thee, they didn't see
it wasn't meant to be
it is a night, the light burnt bright
but shadows , on walls , did write
l sang my love, across hills above
to echo's, of my, true love
It is the morn, l fear the storm
as valley waters grows
l called for thee, they didn't hear
l wrapped my arms, in fear
it is the day, that l did pray
a watcher at the gate
my love could see, was not to be
across the heather , flee
my heart did ache, my soul did take
no one to rescue me
remember me, oh remember me
stone walls, surrounding thee.
it is a dawn, my love did call
as misty rain, on fields did fall
l wept for thee, they didn't see
it wasn't, meant to be
in memory of all the children and all the loved ones, :(
If we'd lived in olden days
days of yore
the golden days
and I were a troubadour
I'd serenade you with my lute
unless I had a flute to toot
or go more than the extra mile
and sing a song to make you smile
not with the end of a lance
would I beg my lady's favour
but gallantly request a dance
mayhaps a carol we could savour
to fight and kill the dragon
and do it all with no fear
I'd pull Excalibur from the stone
for my dear Guinevere
David was advised by his kin
the sling's the thing
if you want to win
tho' small as he was
without fear
he did let fly
and rocked Goliath's world
right between the eyes
before he had time
to come near
or even throw his spear
alone from afar David did fling
and with a single stone's throw
he let go one shot to the head
and brought the giant down
yea verily knocked him stone-cold dead
Civilisation's got me down
taking me to the tail of my tether
driving me round the bend
I'm not going to stick it out
to see where it will end
I'll do my best to regress
back to the stone age
cook on fire paint the walls
sit on rocks keep my cool
do what I have to when nature calls
humanity gets my goat
making me vote skins no clothes
leading me to lunacy's throes
I'm not going to see it through
to find where it all goes
I want to be a cave caveman
a tough rough-and-ready caveman
and do what cavemen do
and if you feel the animal urge
I'll make caveman love to you
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