Some people worry that artificial intelligence will make us feel inferior, but then, anybody in his right mind should have an inferiority complex every time he looks at a flower.
~Alan Kay
Obsession with artificial intelligence
Has left me with pink elephants,
As if recovering from the real world
Has somehow become ensnarled
More intensely in the quantum realm,
Of which (I have read) is rooted, unlike an elm,
In nebulous enjoyments~
It's a bit like chasing tangents.
Categories:
ensnarled, nonsense,
Form: Rhyme
The winter darkness falls before the day
Has run its course, long ere the eyes of those
Who labor seek surcease from weariness.
The home-bound traffic winds its halting way
Beneath the moon-bound Evening Star and slows—
A mess.
And so I sit with promises to keep,
Ensnarled within a concrete wilderness
As news and music streams from radios.
At last the exit home—to eat, to sleep,
And rest.
Categories:
ensnarled, business, home, moon, planet,
Form: Curtal Sonnet
The Bloodhound
I hate my job.
I am a work dog who can sniff out life and wrongdoing.
I nip at the tired heels in shackles.
I sniffed for the ensnarled and enslaved
on barren southern soil.
I sniff for vulnerable creatures.
My bark is a hoarse moan for blood, captivity and death.
It carries through the Spanish Moss, fields and swamps,
a signal of fear for the panicked prey.
I am ugly with much too much skin
and could stand a face lift.
I am well trained.
Fed raw meat and beaten to obey.
I know the tale of club and gun.
I obey my master.
Best of all, I am treated well for my capture.
Best of all, I have tasted blood today.
7/11/19
Pick A Title, Vol 6 - Personification - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
ensnarled, dog,
Form: Personification
© 2011 (Jim Sularz)
On blue ocean’s tide, on midsummer’s ides,
cold steely eyes stirred the deep.
Memories lingered and spied, starred sand dollars died,
where anemone and jellyfish sleep.
Otters bobbed with the waves, some laid back and sun bathed,
in a lazy late morning whim.
Green leaves of a tree, draped in long branched symmetry,
nestled chickadees from a seaside wind.
Dried flowers sighed low, a drop of rain, a rainbow,
soft petals and white feathered clouds.
Caught flying bugs bereft, roared the West winds spent,
ensnarled in a widow’s shroud.
Soaring black-tipped birds, flew small circles as they turned,
sandcastles towered below a butterfly’s grove.
Windowed, crumbled then denied, sunset drenched with the tide,
slowly languished near a lover’s cove.
A steam roller fog, cooled, white blanketed along,
washed ashore like a ghost shipwreck.
Timeworn hands of a man, carved impressions in sand,
and held fast to last summer’s edge.
Categories:
ensnarled, beauty, places,
Form: Quatrain