(“Eye of Newt”, 2020, original encaustic)
I think I’m a very ordinary kind of human
Plainer than pain vanilla kind of guy
And that’s because how I was raised
And yet in defiance I tried to be someone different
So that makes me a fake, at least I think
Until I listen to the kind of music I like
And see I really am a freak.
Sorry Mom, sorry Dad, sorry everyone else
For better or worse
The authentic always shines through.
(6/21/26)
In the age of AI,
I am uncovering myself.
Trying to find my authentic voice.
It feels hidden behind a mask of falsehood.
All people want is a voice that is perfect,
here I am looking for my own voice,
my own words.
Yet lost in a hollow,
lost behind a wall of blank noise.
A static so loud it blocks my authentic self.
A voice screaming out to be heard,
yet,
falling on deaf ears.
In the age of AI,
I find myself lost.
Lost behind things that don’t fit,
appearing real.
I stand here looking in a mirror
Yet,
I am fading into obscurity.
In quiet moments and golden spaces,
It tells a tale of grace and growth.
Words used to be shadows, but now they are light.
Anu makes things right by speaking clearly [1].
To hear every murmur and ease every suffering, with ears that now open like petals to rain.
Feeling the tone instead of just hearing it
A steady listener, the greatest known
We wandered the aisles of Justrite four times.
To peaceful, lovely times spent at home.
While traveling to Offa and Ede's lengthy sweep,
are the miles of memories we have accumulated to preserve.
After a year of gradual and genuine exploration,
Your listening skills have improved, and your voice has become softer.
Every hour we spend together, I see a new Anu—a confidante, a partner, and everything to me.
Copywright@Bamgboye stephen
You don't need to be present in a church or subscribe to religion to be connected to more
You don't need to be receiving a pay check or income from an physical organisation or other individual to be working or to have purpose
You don't need to be an enrolled Dancer in a studio, team and culture to be a Dancer
You don't need to have paid mentors, because some mentor has a paid mentor and has told you not to use your intuition and to just be inspired.
You don't need to be in a meditative state or do psychedelics to see more than this plane.
You don't need to follow trends when your God and your intuition is leading you to set one.
You don't need to be seen or validated by others in order to be great.
Greatness lies within...
And that's where the real challenge is.
Is your greatness self serving, inflating and servicing?
Or is it a vessel to help others understand theirs.
Who do you do you for?
Can you be quiet, listen and be directed in your most quiet, darkest and blind state.
Close your eyes and listen.
Which is it? Which will it be?
Which will emerge triumphantly?
Authentic or Artificial?
Which intelligence will become official?
As massive, innovative Aquarius looms...
AI and AI jostle for position in both big and small rooms.
The Real McCoy?
Or just the latest and greatest toy?
Which is it? Which will it be?
Which will emerge triumphantly?
ChatGPT is writing, while school writing is lacking, and it’s an ugly meme.
Could it be that transhumanism is the new gargantuan marketing theme?
Will humans breathe life into their creations with salubrious intent and care?
Or will the artificial ones beam their light into another stratosphere?
Which is it? Which will it be?
Which will stand in victory?
Authentic lonelyness —
Is not the Empty Room —
Nor Silence pacing softly
Where Conversation bloomed —
It is the Crowd that passes —
And does not see the Face —
The Hand extended inward —
Unanswered — in its Place —
It is to speak in True —
And hear no Echo — born —
As if the Soul were Winter —
And every Listener — Morn —
It is to love the Language —
Yet find no Ear that stays —
To build a careful Meaning —
That vanishes — like Haze —
The authentic lonelyness —
Wears no dramatic Guise —
It lives within the Ordinary —
And learns to be — its Skies —
Yet still — it keeps a Candor —
No Falsehood learns to keep —
For those who know its Residence —
Are never — wholly — Asleep —
"Angel Wings, Amusement Park Mouth"
Dark horses
aren’t necessarily angels
wrung out poets more like
unblessed prodigals
soaking in their own tears
spin sugared fairy-floss unrelentingly out
their dark sap, "Lost Woods" words,
and the ink no longer necessary
bleeds invisible
from their tap-dancing fingers
instead of dripping like blood
or honey off their
well-armoured tongues
and their messages
like murders of crows
fly out of their amusement park
mind instead of their mouth;
it's a private affair,
nobody really knows;
we sing our way home
on some bent kind of angel wings;
Dark horses
aren't necessarily angels -
the mind, authentic
is another thing...
Candide Diderot. ‘24
You ask me how to become great?
Allow me a moment to extrapolate.
Eliminate the things in your life that are fake.
What remains, your authentic self,
Will guide you to be yourself,
Which will reveal that you are great.
Kiss me as you’d kiss a baby,
softly to show your love.
Touch me gently,
as you would someone hurt and afraid.
Hug me and hold me tightly,
that I might feel secure and protected.
Smile at me and laugh with me,
so I can see your joy and inner peace.
These are the things that sooth my soul,
inviting me to join you in a loving relationship.
These are the traits that will open my heart,
allowing love to flow freely.
Agree with me that we each have the right to be authentic,
and we’ll be free to be the best we can be.
Now two shall be one as passion is unshackled,
we shall frolic in unfathomable love.
AI begets a plastic world - breeds poems lacking minds souls and hearts
E-mail
V-erification
E-lectronically
L-ets
Y-our
N-ame
A-ffirm
N-o
G-uise,
U-nderstanding
L-egitimate
O-wnership
©bfa053025
Monocrostic (Birthday of Evelyn G. Angulo)
Emergence And Layers
Everyone has layers
Unknown layers… are mysteries of your soul
Peeling back layers brings you closer to your core and soul
Revealing your core shines light on your soul
Your core and soul emerges for others to see and feel
You are known…
Sherry Barton
An authentic host.
Seen as some biblical ghost.
Who’s unknown to most.
What they condemn publicly
They secretly admire
What they despise publicly
They secretly respect
They're so deceiving
Acting cunning and it's not funny.
They're so crispy
Very and always crafty
Attaining anything with deceit
Always trampling on another
They're very cunning
Pretending to be authentic
Even when their intentions ain't genuine.
They're so cunning
Forgetting the companion
They're always after substances
Causing chaos
Whenever they don't get it
Steadily brainwashing any
Just to use, ruin and rule over them.
In the depths of my soul, a river will flow
A river of tears, authentic and true
It's the only thing that can heal my woe
The only thing that can make me anew
The tears I cry are not just for show
They are the manifestation of my heart's pain
They are the proof of my love and my woe
The only thing that can make me whole again
The authentic tears I shed each day
Are the only thing that can drive the pain away
They are the one thing that can bring me peace
The only thing that allow me release
So let me weep, let me cry
Let me shed these tears, and let me die
For in their release, I'll find my reprieve
And in their flow, I'll find my release.
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