Why is it such a big deal to be an avaricious & pernicious alligator and just steal from every creator use all our data and turn even the meek & mild into a wild hater...
"How do we stop the lavatorial plop plop of AI slop
Cull the new crop an arch oligarch march to the top
No behavioural fop to an algorithm making you strop
Don’t be a sop to a pack who hijack a stack on the hop
Pander to your dander by knowing how you do shop
When you gander…. propaganda & slander they drop
This laboratory of hateful oratory is what we all cop
Cohorts sport.. escorts all sorts.. come on chop chop
All about the economy give woke folks a lobotomy op
Forgotten besotten rotten dot com bubble did pop
Impropriety no jobs swap entirety of society will flop
Social media greedier needier seedier stronger gallop
So how do we stay dry of sh*t from on high this AI slop
To stop bottom feeder sly lie then no longer be the mop"
I Celebration in the Year 2000
Cultures combine with cornucopia chalices
Spinning with starry spices steaming dreams
All together with pollination of feather flowers
Flowing with global glowing hope harvests
We capture watercolor waterfalls words
From freedom chests echoing expressions
With experiences exalting joyful gemstones
Teaching circulation of time's dancing chapters
We interlock internally with orchestra grace
Where world's writers inscribe soul scrolls
II Desolation in the Year 2001
Insane airplanes fire and flame wanton wars
From unknown blistering hate death's fate
Buildings burn with smoky skeletons
Tomb's teeth bleed scythe seeds upon
aghast eyesight halting worldwide scarred souls
Ghosts of time's crimson crimes question peace
From horror history halls that crumble with calls
Ringing culture's forever communication chairs
Within time's decorative trusting chambers only
exist with sweating escorts to eagle engine exits
Written: November 06, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Karen Jones
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December can be a seraphic break ... not a trek through squalor—
No wheezy winds, no stygian moods ... no suction of sodden days,
Let it simmer with the warmth ... of rapture and rosemary stew.
Let the nimbus sky festoon the trees ... with blithesome skeuomorph snow—
Each flake is a serendipity whisper ... a spark of pure grace,
Let the river rime ripple ... as a rakish scarf on the hills.
Let the roost resound with stories ... sages, and escorts alike—
While the air sizzles with ... mellifluous sigh and a hint of lard,
Let the rugged year resile ... ratified by insight and treacle.
Let the vault of stars above ... be a tailored zenith of light —
A quixotic quilt stitched by ... Siamese dreams and slack-jawed awe,
Let bleak hours resile into ... symbiosis with joy, not scorn.
Allow the standard hush of snow ... to soften the slur of time —
And a slender sickle of hope ... scythes the stench of the past,
Let December be the soul of ... what we almost dared to believe.
Sitting on the wire she glooms and alone
‘Down forth’ all beckon,
‘Bits of bread are there
Pick up lest the other demands share’.
The lame bird flaps in the air
Rolling down from her breast a feather,
Pecking a bit with a sense
The escorts saving by defence.
A hunter hits like the lightning from the blue
None finds out yet its clue,
Concreted blood splitting and dog's spittle
Absence of delay makes her utmost brittle,
The barking dogs in the narrow city
Whose have with her no affinity,
All green leaves falling upon ground
That is for love beyond of bound,
Odium! Odium! to the merciless beings
The supreme creatures for whom so long she sings.
Written: June 21, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
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slow loop
small super slug
forms few fluid
dropping lustrous slime trail,
snails are my escorts' spirits
shelter shell--
Every story with words of their own
Poet perspective
Defined commitment with a desire to fulfill
Through the mind having will
Agonizing struggle propelling igniting power
Like a cake in the oven ready to rise
The thought of thinking only imagining
Every Poet having their own theory
Emotions like moving oceans and rivers
Flowing
Like morning dew that comes in the sunrise
It becomes pursue where journey begins
The Need, Desire, Construct all come to mine
Poets are often seen as deep and complex
Inner soul behind the behold at their grasp
Uplifting inspiration in Poets to be
People Poets seen through the eyes of humanitarian in write and confront
The gift being a perk
The structure being the Creativity and Collaboration of Poets behind the idea of words as escorts
One jolt of words letter by letter through moment in time
All genuine
A world that won’t always be kind
Poets confess
Being their test
Into the atmosphere of Poets everywhere
Clear glass of reflection
Needing the reader’s attention
Behind the indication
The diary of divine
Elegance like refreshing wine
Poet’s words warm and kind
Nothing else compares
Poets are about sincere in share.
Though Creed takes wide and wind,
Laughs in desire and no hind,
The sun escorts there in simple say,
Grass and grain vivid ever morning May,
Leave the riddle that frown and fray,
I admire the wit that lips spray,
Sweet spell sung in motherly lap,
And pervade to adorable lissom ladies hand,
Charms wither within two spheres,
That rainbow lucid in feelings fairs,
Wings spread gaudy butterfly display,
Without remorse, foil heavenly life in hay,
Either wise either clay,
Render the chime of inner being,
No human where beast bring,
unfolds and usher their immortal blessing,
heave the height with cheer and caring
Nameless knolls that grace our grims
Happy pines adorn eastern winds
You will see me alone, dining.
Always near a window
Watching people hurrying outside,
Or well-dressed patrons
Frequenting the five-star diner,
My favourite eating place.
Alas always alone.
Still one lady, impeccably dressed
Always visited the place every Saturday.
And always with a different escort.
I wondered who she was,
But I could hardly ask her, could I?
Her escorts seemed rich and elegant.
Not that I was shabbily dressed.
But I was not the handsome type.
Then one day she came in alone.
She had no escort as she ordered her food.
What could I do? I approached her meekly
And asked for her company.
"Finally, you came," she smiled.
We never dined alone from then on.
FICTION
Minds stratify in webbed design.
In lone life’s strata snares align,
make psychic patterns unify.
In webbed design minds stratify.
In mind’s layers dark secrets hide;
prying can’t find from world outside.
Restrained silent mind never cares,
dark secrets hide in mind’s layers.
I’m a captive of my making,
see known faces fast receding.
In shell I can’t be adaptive
of my making, I’m a captive.
It’s only me I always see.
Mirage escorts my heart in glee
to oasis of ecstasy.
I always see it’s only me.
In the verdant pasture perched on the hilly spine,
ewe leads her frolicking lamb flock in the sunshine.
A lineage of woolly convoy on blithe bouncy trails,
its baaing symphony in the pastoral plateau sails.
With the satin fleece as soft as the morning mist,
each prancing sheep she adores can’t be missed.
Shepherd's calm control emits from love of ewe,
as her eyes glisten like dulcet drops of dawn dew.
She escorts the flock toddling in a dawdling pace,
ewe notice, she's the laudable lady of great grace.
As the sun sets painting horizon with golden hue,
the sleepy sheep seek for the cuddle of caring ewe.
Make each day even better than the one before
Promise yourself a dinner at your favourite restaurant
Give yourself a gift of that sweater you had your eye on
Little things that help make life exciting and interesting
It's not selfish to treat yourself every once in a while
It makes for a happier existence
You'll find yourself humming happy tunes and smiling a lot
So what if people around you think you've lost it!
Keep 'em guessing and even add to the rumours
By occasionally doing outrageous things
Like sit-ups in the middle of the local mall
And when security escorts you out to your car
Keep singing those happy tunes and waving at everyone
This advice is likely not good for all!
It's funny how time flies
No wings to flap
Yet fast enough
Never stopping for someone wishing so
Another funny thing is how Nature calls daily
But our busy schedules don't pick up
Missing out on the horizon
Our TV screens show us the beauty so we can't take a step forward into the sunset
Comfortable in our zones
Time whispers farewell to today
Without a warning we're stuck in the morrow
Wishing to travel in time we are teleported to the future
Without dreams to show for it we show up
Time escorts us to the graveyard
Without responded to calls we cry for second chances
But time waits for no one and today is all we have
Wedding bells are ringing,
Love floating in the air.
Hearts forever singing,
All joy and no despair.
The Bride in satin lace,
Looking like a Queen.
The Groom with pensive face,
So nervous at the scene.
The Father escorts Bride,
Walking down the aisle.
He's bursting out with pride,
But wears a casual smile.
Standing face to face,
The wedding vows are read.
No dry eye in the place,
After everything is said.
He takes the wedding band,
And slips it on her finger.
Now standing hand in hand,
Their kiss will gently linger.
The wedding day is through,
In bright or stormy weather.
With one soul born from two,
A cherished life together.
Gucci really outdid themselves on this outfit.
I clap way longer than the others.
I stand up and whistle and hoot too.
Someone escorts me out, for I am a spectacle.
But I could not help myself.
The model winks at me as they drag me past her.
2 Timothy 4:3-4:4
For the time will come when men will not tolerate sound doctrine, but with itching ears they will gather around themselves teachers to suit their own desires. So, they will turn their ears away from truth and turn aside to myths.
The practitioners of “The Big Lie”
Election results, one must never decry
Let us examine some history
By which we’ll note the hypocrisy
Al Gore in 2000, Hillary in 2016
Stacy Abrams in Georgia did scream
How does one discern what is truth
The good book says examine the fruit produced
Thirty-two million for Mueller to investigate
Months of media claiming Trumps a reprobate
What did this produce folks
It was all a Democrat and media hoax
Impeachment over a phone call to Ukraine
No high crimes or misdemeanors was plain
Hunter’s laptop called Russian disinformation
January 6th labeled an insurrection
No guns, no bombs, not even pitchforks
Capitol Police acting as escorts
If you are unable to see rotten fruit
Providing more evidence is simply moot
Just know that Paul foretold it all
We need a revival, or America will fall
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