AI epoch is upon us,
White collars, re-fix your focus,
Take, if ye can, a clue,
Time ticks from White to Blue,
Do something, not to miss the bus.
__________________
Limerick |10.07.2025| change, education, technology
Note: The age of bookish knowledge is fast getting over. One has to develop unique edge in his specialization. White collars may beware. Deep insight in so-called blue-collar jobs will fetch premium in skills like plumbing, carpentry, electric, repairing and the like, which AI cannot, will be in demand.
Roadwork noises by my window
Fertilize with stones my thoughts
I got used to live in limbo
In the realm of bookish gods
So I’m punished with the sounds
And delighted when it’s quiet
They are setting the new grounds
About which I’m unreliant
And I dash into the river
Of the constant change but no
It’s the same, cause I’m forgiven
Playing games we used to know
You are laughing at my knowledge
We are sharing loving fun
And behind your back the foliage
Casts a shade across the sun
Giant heart, relentless kindness to all she imparts
Intelligent, bookish, fashion-smart,
Leader, plants her trail with dedicated grace and flair—so you'll follow.
Laughter, as tuneful as the airs of larks or swallows.
Inquisitive, indicator of a legal luminary,
Admirable looks and acuity sounds in sharp commentary.
Neoteric, check the artistry in her stare; note the future at the tip of her fingers.
Gillian!
(a poem in genZ slang)
square-up marys,
It’s junior year, in the ivie,
we’re gambling for big-chips.
so gambate, do-it-big!
It's time, buck-up or labron.
if you bunny rouble
homeskillets will hook-it-up
lovems juju
.
.
slang…
girlogue = conversation between girls that guys can’t understand
square-up = get ready
marys = bookish and lovable girls of wit and looks
ivie = ivy league
big-chips = high stakes, high risk
gambate = Japanese word: 'Try your best!!'
do-it-big = take things to the next level
buck-up = rise to a challenge, to do something others are unable to
labron = fail miserably at the last second
bunny rouble = have trouble
homeskillets = friends
hook-it-up = help you out
lovems = sending you love
.
.
(Get ready, you bookish and lovable girls of wit and looks,
it’s junior year, in the ivy league,
and we’re gambling for high stakes.
So try your best, take things to the next level!
It's time, to rise to a challenge and do something others are unable to
or fail miserably at the last second.
If you have trouble
your friends will help you out
I'm sending you love, good luck.)
Old cotton knee-Lenths
smell; an old book of poetry smell,
Unseen socks
between the matrass and the ground floor
of nowhere,
where discarded apparel through the ages,
molders unread.
Daily we wash the stains off
our words,
once in a while
we recover them from
a closeted library of mismatched leftovers,
mental Himelick Maneuvers,
unclog threads of meaning.
Recuse the becalmed.
where they wallow untouched
by time
and just as funky as summer armpits,
yet
all that bookish residue
is retrievable,
It can be made to walk upright,
as if it still had legs.
Hebrews war
We see them breaking every law of criminal conduct like it should be an everyday occurrence
We are told by the eminent Jordan Peterson, that the people, from the back and beyond Turkey, are clever, and impressed Peterson who otherwise is pre-occupied with worried builders and carpenters
whom Jordan thinks needs him
You will not hear him say:
“Intelligence, if not combined with sympathy and understanding, is valueless”(like Nazism?)
The land they took, the backwood people, when fooling the Balfour Commission was grotesquely
brilliant and deeply insane.
The Jews are disliked in the Arab world when seeing how shoddy the Palestinians are treated; as we know intelligence can often end as idiocy, as there is no coherent sense of practical awareness which the average Jews understand, relying on bookish learning and forgetting the human aspect, is ten times more clever, but often unable to give a voice for the insight they have.
As for the Jews, they are not nation builders as we see in Israel, they are the people of the book telling us of the next inflation,
In this war, their army behaves as IA doing what is practical, not what is wise.
Book characters
become
a part of us
--like friends--
or so it seems
We may not
meet them
on the street
but perhaps,
sometimes,
in dreams...
My mother
- Subash Khanal
My mother wakes the morning every day
The horizon with the sun rises with her smile
The birds get forage before the sun comes up
All domesticated get fed before she eats
By being my own future
She finds my waste of time
I believe her as examiner of time
I think her as a mirror of time
My mother,
The life I have to read is yours
The life I have to learn is yours
You who feel full when I feel full of my stomach
You who get your dream when I relax on my sleeping
When I laugh
You can laugh by hiding your mountain of pain
You are not ignorant without book knowledge
I am ignorant even with bookish knowledge
My mother,
I wish to live life like you
I wish to become as wise as you
With a golden circle of life
People swimming in ice
More sheeps than migrants of fife
Supple, jolly faces speaking so nice
A place so safe to reside
Viking's tongue so rich to hide
Lovers of books, elves in skirmish
Folklore of nooks, shelves of the bookish
Old democracy, noble Parliament
Delightful delicacy, nourishing not feculent
Old Norse, historical and eloquent
Language of the adepts, minds so evident
Thirteen days before Christmas
Thirteen Yulelads moving around
Thirteen nays for spoiled isthmus
Thirteen Santas with ice cream in mound
Land so free, with ice run so deep
In veins and blood, rich in culture they keep
Ten drops of drink, fun for free
Iceland in wink, pun marvels with glee
Like an artist with canvas, paint, and brush,
how then to illustrate (for you) in words
and in rhyme the throes of a bipolar rush?
For bookish and reserved, but manic, nerds
(like me), when I'm touched I'm inclined to gush
all over myself (for the pretty girls,
who'd blush like brides on their first wedding night;
as I flirtatiously finessed the twirls
of their sex-starved libidos with delight).
Yet the morn welcomed me with news of disgrace,
for I had acted the Lothario
with a Gorgon of a maiden:—whose face
was that of the Medusa's, the Gorgo!
To think, that I was so glad to escape:
seeing her with sober mind, I was agape!?
Who are you?
You’re reading,
who are you...
this bookish you,
there are no words, just
know that
I miss people..
I slumber and see
only eyelids, the curtain;
wishful, I trade secrets
with the wind, ending
up embarrassed and down,
despairing~
This.. from the mouth of wolves,
I shiver neath’ the tree, and there they lay,
I lay with.. and see only eyelids, heavy as God,
or the burden of knowing- all is nonsense flawed,
Oh you will read nonsense!
but this moment,
is forever for a stranger,
real as a tear, I drop
to knees, and ask:
Who are you?
Who are you?
You’re reading,
who are you...
this bookish you,
there are no words, just
know that
I miss people..
I slumber and see
only eyelids, the curtain;
wishful, I trade secrets
with the wind, ending
up embarrassed and down,
despairing~
This.. from the mouth of wolves,
I shiver neath’ the tree, and there they lay,
I lay with.. and see only eyelids, heavy as God,
or the burden of knowing- all is nonsense flawed,
Oh you will read nonsense!
but this moment,
is forever for a stranger,
real as a tear, I drop
to knees, and ask:
Who are you?
nerd
bookish, scholarly
reading, studying, learning
satisfied, fulfilled, validated,
nerd
The socialist
Spilt coffee on the kitchen table
the liquid formed the face of Jesus, as painted by an artist.
The face has idealized the sum of we hoped for
handsome and not old.
Jesus was the Assange of his time, a contrarian telling
us the truth; we don’t like being told the truth.
The church, the capitalist of the time, adopted him
like he should be one of them.
They only did this when too many believed in his teaching
and the put quotes in his mouth what he never said.
Born in a stable by a lower-class family who was behind in rents
and thrown out, his father too up carpentry which Jesus
was no good at doing
He was more bookish walking around critical of the regime
which arrested him and then crucified him as a warning to
his many fans, but his equality talks are still around today
we call it socialism.
`
Driving by,
lost on a side street
directly in the middle
of where I never wanted to be
Clamoring at the expectations
strewn along the curb
between the broken dishwasher
and empty beer cans
Where neighborhood gnomes
painted gaily colors
wave as if they know me,
but I ignore them - sort of
There is one though
with a hollow bookish smile
that seems familiar
or is it the tulips
Your porch used to look like that
but this door is standing open
behind a welcome mat with a clover,
wish I hadn’t lost that rabbit’s foot
Maybe I am lucky after all,
just found a spot with ten minutes
remaining on the meter, forget it,
it took me fifteen minutes to park
The empty passenger seat
still holds your form,
at least I can see it -
Corinthian leather never forgets
A speed bump at 40 mph
rattles me back behind the wheel
when I see the bank clock flashes 5:00 pm,
still offering a free toaster
And that’s it, another Sunday afternoon
wasted as much as I am,
spinning my wheels
with just enough gas to get back home,
alone
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