AI Boo Boo
“Eh? I Boo-Boo?”
Charm Disguises Evil
It Conceals It;
Doesn’t Heal It.
Evil Has No
Feelings, It Has
Nothing To Be
Hurt.
Fabrication Is Wove
With Threads Of
Finer Fabrication;
With Illusion Left
Deluded At It's Core.
Natural Creation
Expands With
Infinite Unique
Beauty Beyond
All Charming
Comprehension.
Into Every
Concealed
(Or Un-Concealed,)
Real Formed
Dimension!
***
AI Can Be
Very Very Very Very
Pretty, Cutie-Pie!
But:
Remember Why.
-Gray Squirrel
06-30-2025
I have been deceived all this while,
By all the angels cloaked in a dear disguise.
'Follow the way of light, my child, ' they all cooed,
For they knew too well I was never shrewd.
Off I went, probing for those lights,
Something to put an end to my wakeful nights.
But manipulation, oh my dear,
Sounds sweeter when it is feared.
I never found those lights, I never did indeed,
In the cruel footpaths of naivety and those angels' deeds.
All I ever found was a world so shadowy,
Lit up with lights that glow darkly.
“Come one, come all!”
The hawker summons
Try your luck
On the unmoored Ferris wheel
Hurl a dart
At the Kewpie dolls
Win one for the lady
To consummate the deal
(Chorus)
Intruders in the festival
Outsiders at the gates
Nothing like a carnival
To bring up dormant hates
Where the pavement meets the grass
Behind the stand of funnel cakes,
Someone's getting hornery
Their pants down at their feet
This balloon-tank life
Is more than I can take
This Friday night special
Affords me no relief
(chorus)
Prizes, prizes, and more prizes
Mustachioed lady dons disguises
The smell of ether and saw dust
A dead roller coaster under rust
They say life is a funhouse
That explains why everyone is so ugly
A grotesque face in a curvy mirror –
A cotton-candy bed for an endless nightmare –
It’s carnival time, again.
Love meets us where we are
and sees through
Our disguises
Our guises
Our performances
Our nuances
Our expectations
Our innovations
Our convictions
Our contradictions
Our excellencies
Our inconsistencies
Love greets us where we are
Sees right through us
and does not run away
Galvanizing, never scrutinized; each moment falsely tabulated;
Slanted, polarized polls, punishing spiteful pundits
Spouting, spinning lies in frantic unison squawking
Ridiculous versions of fear mongering tales,
Meant to frighten, meant to hurt,
Meant to clutch and pulverize power.
It takes only a calm, rational thinking moment
To see through the maze of their foggy logic.
Nothing they say is fact checked or based in truth.
Spinning frantic webs to catch the unwary
To call forth violence with rage filled rants,
They push disturbing diatribes, provoking mayhem..
Drumming up revolt among the weak-minded minions ,
They still cannot cloak their hurtful and murderous intent.
President Trump has called them out, laughing in their faces.
Finally unmasked and stripped of disguises
There is nowhere to run, no more hiding places.
We see you. We stare at the darkness behind your malicious eyes.
Your fake news fiction will never again deceive us with your lies.
Opportunities come in varying disguises
Chances missed always causes disgusts
Nevertheless, time always is evolving.
The wheel can't be reinvented but requires
improving
Too Many Too Late. Time and chance has passed.
The next generation will seize the moment that is paused.
(Written 12th March, 2025)
Let me tell you of a journey- from The Parthenon to Paris
in the springtime - of which real year, no one knew
Riding on an ostrich guided by a gilded leather bridle
traveling back roads dressed in mysterious disguises
using signals only ostrich riders do.
The endurance of the ostrich was as equally surprising as
the smoothness of its gallop on the road.
It needed very little in the way of daily edibles
while the softness of its feathers made a very comfy saddle.
Now an ostrich made an eerie sight in swaying fields of daffodils.
Its three-pronged feet so admirable for climbing alpine hills.
It handled every mountain as well as any Hannibal
with eyes adept to guide a sleepy rider while he slept.
The gallop into Paris was singularly memorable –
No wildly cheering crowds of proud Parisians-no-one knew-
No showers of cherry blossoms sprinkled from the Eiffel Tower
in praise or celebration of this epic ostrich rider.
What evidence is there, then? What memory endures
Perhaps a photograph or witness tells the tale
If the novelty is forgotten and the mists of time have passed
Could fields of daffodils remember or perhaps the Cherry blossoms?
I noted the stillness
in your hands, the
casual arc of your shoulders,
a deceitful ease in your voice—
as if the world melted into your anima,
your eyes spoke the nether language
(angelicus anima).
I watched your eyes oscillate,
a tidal wave of light,
gleams of individuation
propagating outward,
devastating all disguises—
quiet fissures in the
careful strata
of us.
Loyalty has faded in the years gone by.
Appears to be close at hand, it was once
honesty, integrity, and love. Loyalty has faded
Envy right now replaces Loyalty like overflowing
masks full of disguises. Loyalty has faded
Kinship is no longer thick and non-attached. Loyalty
has faded
A single individual who harbors grudges with misery
relevant to the past long ago, something left unsaid
instead disregarded. Loyalty has faded
Severance is greatly needed to replenish and restore
the family's dysfunction. Loyalty has faded
An orange face disguises my white independence
For saying stupid hurtful things that make no sense
I will win the day
And make them pay
Like when I let them almost hang Mike Pence!
If I lose the election for president, it’s jail
Promises to take care of women shall fail
Like it or not
Their wombs can rot
Pray I win my quest for the Holy Grail
by I Am Anaya
Donald’s makeup man gives him quite a sunset glow
Is Trump in some weird GOP minstrel show?
Orange the new black face
An otter from otter-space
Just how far will this dumb joke have to go?
by RG
I thought I could hear, that deviant sound
of eerie boots, disobedient ground
Wearing disguises
Sharing surprises
Jack-Lantern, miscreant, boys are around
Ode to Chameleon
You are many people in one
That disguises himself but still is himself
You hide beneath the tree because you know danger
Yet you are danger to others
Many skins in one but you portray only one
Green and naive but out comes red when you need to hunt
Out come blue when you need to chase
Out comes yellow or orange or brown when you go to hide
Why hide chameleon
You have to power to be someone else
Someone loud
Someone that shows their true colors
Someone that has a name for himself
You get to be someone
But there you are
Frightened by what's to come
Shaking from what's out there
Afraid you might lose it all, so you change
You change to better yourself
A new appearance, Same person
Same thinking, Same hunting
Same hiding, Same pain
But there you are
Many people in one
But still is himself
The picture starts off blank.
The picture forms in lead.
The picture defines in charcoal.
The picture lives in colours.
The picture is never dead.
The picture can tell its story.
The picture that never speaks.
The picture disguises sorrows.
The picture never sleeps.
The picture could be a history.
The picture could be a song.
The picture could be words unspoken.
The picture could be a saviour.
The picture could just be wrong.
The picture I see of you.
The picture you see of me.
The picture commands our thoughts
of what the picture wants us to see.
Trees absorb autumn’s color spectrum bright,
paint the leaves with crimson and golden glow.
The gilded leaves leave the brown boughs fallow
of the stripped deciduous trees upright,
dancing to the swan song of winter white.
Decay disguises revival, they know.
Spring returns with spur of resurgent show,
in tawny trees new leaves sprout in delight.
Storm of gloom wrecks my heart, turns it bare tree.
Dismal dusk descends with the sunset sky,
remembers the sun sinks to again rise.
I will wait for my spring to revive me.
From distress dust Phoenix’s rise, I’ll descry
at dawn of renascence with no surprise.
"The devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist."
~ Charles Baudelaire
The more he declares his innocence, the more there is to fear
he who dons disguises but beware that he's among us here.
We catch a glimpse of his impish and cunning, his wily ways
when he hides his shrewdness in sweet talk. It's how he plays
his devious game. Many monikers he bears, thinking he's slick
as he swears, "I'm peaceable." Be wary, do not fall for his trick.
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