I think, AI can fool the surface eye,
the sun of everyday common day --
the night of charming only twinkle glitter
night --
But, what it can’t fool~ is, complex
soul spectrum; what it can’t step away
from is, its own deceitful presence –
the blight of laziness -- felonious poetic
fixes.
Technology has its place and purpose --
let it not be, to dope one's own creative sense
of Fair-play.
God, perhaps, considering an AI earth --
populated with robotic integers, squiggles
of AI digital worth. Both heaven and hell
could be a lot smaller – an entire civilization
on one memory stick. Don’t be a shallowly
composing programmed dick.
A limerick-composing old man
Devised a most devious plan.
Rejecting convention,
I fear I must mention,
He fried all his verse in a pan.
Song to love, song to listen and song to sing.
In life, Music holds a specific meaning.
In list of hobbies, Music at top to bring.
Knitting is carried on through maternal gene.
In this trend both my Grandma and Mom were keen.
Natural skill continuing from my teen.
Since childhood, Drawing - Painting : My recreation.
Simultaneously those are my creations
Not as an expert but I wish to mention.
Composed Drama being a story - Writer
As such, script writing became my hobby later.
Stage performance - Telecast displayed better.
I dream poetry;
I breathe poetry, for poetry
calls your name, feeling your
inerrant essentia—
your soul bleeds into mine—
a collision of cosmos,
diffused magnetically, once
a vagrant in a haze of miasmic
vapors—wildered and exposed—
you unshackled me from
this purgatory;
inversely immersing me in
your sphere of solace, and
blooming artistry,
lulling the vast polarities
splintering each layer of my veracity.
I dream poetry,
for your love drizzles
burgeoning constellations, amid
rosette sepals galvanizing my
orphic nuclei, with
every spark we sigh,
tethered to the infinite composition
of our unwavering love compellingly,
beyond heaven and earth,
devoted to you—
your fallen star; no longer silent, circling
nocturne arias entwining our destiny.
I’M COMPOSING MYSELF FOR CHRISTMAS
I’ve done all my Christmas CHOPIN
And got everything on my LISZT.
All in all I’ve been frightfully BIZET
And the Christmas break will be BLISS.
I’m away to the VILLA-LOBOS,
In HAYDN until New Year’s Day,
With a girl in my arms who’s mad about BRAHMS
And the note on the HANDEL will say,
“For GOUNOD’S sake do not disturb us
Except for our SUPPE tray
With two glasses of sweet MARTINU
And a bowl of crème BOULEZ.”
The COLE PORTER’S built the fire up,
The TELLEMAN’S tuned in the set,
We’ll POULENC ourselves down on the sofa
And drop ORFF and try to forget.
5th March 2023
Pun Fun poetry contest
Sponsor - Margarita Lillico
You may think that writing
is dysfunctional-
to script a thought not using
that sign of ABCs post-D.
This art that's built of words
is inspiration-bound;
finding worthy, optional picks
not sounding lordly.
It is most frustrating
to omit that sign-
manipulating, controlling
word forms in a satisfying way.
Committing to construction-
painfully choosing-
discarding- to find again-
class vocabulary to display.
A Lipogram can truly stump
a sharp, rhapsodic mind.
But, constancy can always win-
by solution found in kind.
January 23, 2023
Contest: Lipogram Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Rules: Do Not Use The Letter E
Checked with PS Grammar
Rhyme Zone
My thoughts like wafts of vapors,
surround me in my dreams,
shifting like the tide,
the ebb and flow along shores seams.
Awakened by a hazy dawn, drifting
in clouds of sleep,
images appear like ethereal vestiges;
emerge, tease, fade, and seep.
Like a poetic puzzle, scattered pieces
lie in wait, for their place in the whole,
a vision that words express;
images from the depth of a passionate soul.
Date: July 30, 2022
For: Brian Strand Premiere Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Placed 8th in contest
POTD on Aug. 1st, 2022
some muse 'hicks'
be as...
sounding
some gut...
tar getting
as trapped...
stan sand
Which key should I put this song in?
I sing in G Ionian/major comfortably,
Likewise the relative E Aeolian/minor scale.
Plus those guitar chords are easy as sin.
I could choose a scale that’s more exotic -
D Mixolydian has the same notes and chords.
Hungarian or Roumanian minor, Spanish Gypsy.
Or another scale derived from minor harmonic.
Keep it simple – let’s start with the G Major scale.
Should I do a basic 1-4-5 with major G/C/D chords?
Or a jazzy 2-5-1 with A minor/D/G ending on the tonic?
Let’s do a bluesy 1-4-5 with a turn-around at the tail!
Just major and minor triad chords are boring.
Major, minor, and dominant sevenths can be cool;
But I’m rather partial to suspended seconds and fourths.
My sliding E diminished flat 7th will keep the fans from snoring!
What can I do to add even more pizzazz and glitz?
Slowly build the dynamic and rhythmic complexity.
Give the crowd a tribal chorus they can sing to.
Add a spanking hot hook throughout that never quits!
Institutional prayers belong on a shelf
I can compose them much better myself...
I am but a tiny speck, you God are immense --
Too obviously true; that'll never do, so hence
I cry out to You, but words escape me --
Hmm, someone's already written this plea --
I search for You in places hidden deep away --
No, the Lord's found everywhere and every day
You come to me unbidden by cover of night --
Would God ever want to cause me fright?...
The Lord is my Shepherd
I shall not want...
Now, that sounds so elegant --
Words that I thought were so easy to write
Only true genius can produce such delight
The Gigantic Powerful,
The Omni-mighty,
The Omni-present
Covid-19 has come
can kill anytime anyone
infecting the lungs
Oh! Shut the mouth!
Take a mask!
Don't speak anymore!
Otherwise, the virus will infiltrate into your throat and……..!
Oh! Now take home quarantine
Spend an isolated life!
Live in self-distancing!
Don't think more about imperialist cool war!
Go to die! Go silently to die
believing this virus from God as Curse for SINNER!
Think and believe every epidemic as a curse from God!
Be devout to His mercy and almighty;
Pray to Him making self-distancing;
For COVID-19 do not be lost patience on Him
Though live now abide by the laws of WHO team
Do not be closed to the dead body of COVID-19
Do not show any sympathy
Oh! Humanism!
Now you are in realistic dumb cold-blooded life!
In the reign of Covid-19
Peoples and the unseen enemy
Abstract war in panic
Running away from the pandemic
Some become winners stilling in fear
and some are caged in death
The year 2020 is composing an unruffled elegy
-March-2020 Chattogram
E-xcellently
U-se
N-ame
I-n
C-omposing
E-xceptional
P-oem
A-s
U-nique
L-ine
I-s
T-ruly
E-njoyable
Topic: Birthday of Eunice Paulite (August 11)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
K-eep
U-sing
R-ighteous
T-opic
C-omposing
L-iterary
V-erse
E-mploying
N-ame
A-s
G-reat
A-crostic
C-reates
I-mmeasurable
D-elight
Topic: Birthday of Kurt Clven F. Agacid (July 27)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
The BBS has the tracks of how your gestations condescend,
your keyboard is where your fingers time and again stumble.
Numb and dumb, short-winded nib despairs of the scutwork's end;
In regard to your mumpsimus, succumbing to ink inundation, prostrate paper ceases to mumble.
Once arises the idea of an art creation, ineffably blent
or the one free from the rough-and-tumble,
pristine pulchritude, original mindscapes' most faithful fere,
shrinks and shrivels the way Venus dodges factitious smear.
Wandering in a love song
Dreaming of his hearts embrace
The Troubadour sings
"Raison d' etre"
While stars cast a lonely moon's tune
Where darkness shields his fate
As wind is to rain, his sadness
Blows tears to the ground and falls
Like heavy roaring
Thundering skies crash
While his lyric silences soft
The Troubadour sings
July 20, 2019
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