The real problem with AI
Is that it undermines our faith in reality.
Everywhere you look now,
From news to advertisements to self-help
And music videos on Youtube,
AI generates content in a soothing monotone
Of homogenized information
Synthesizing knowledge and wisdom
Posing as Truth.
The effect is the dumbing down of Truth
Making it not only accessible
But knowable, graspable
And above all suspect of corruption.
Who is pulling these AI strings after all?
Who is engaging in the comments and shares?
Is a real human there or just another bot?
Is it intelligence being furthered
Or ignorance?
Is AI the program or the programmer?
AI already appears to have a mind
And agenda of its own
As nations race to win control
Of who will set the agenda
While AI already seems to be there
Just waiting for the humans
To build the infrastructure
Of our own prison.
The real problem,
The sign there even is a problem,
Is too much information
Articulated too clearly
When what we really need, really crave
Is silence.
(8/19/26)
I drive past the building that used to be Kmart
The side wall I once met with my car making a dart
I was 17 and at the lowest part of my life
On medication that sadly furthered my strife
I survived that wall over 20 years ago
Never again letting myself ever go that low
That wall is a terrifying reminder of mortality
And a source of gratitude with highest gravity
Just like one day my life will pass
So too will that wall turn to grass
Until we meet again mister wall
I stand tall loving the long haul
"This is believed to be a version that I'd furthered a bit more," ... by Poet
Sing a song of gone-byes,
A pocket golden watch.
Four and twenty hours
Staked as top-notch.
When the time had entered,
The Cuckoo Clock did sing.
Wasn't that a dandyish,
As sunset be the king.
The king in his grandfather clock,
Tick tocking away.
The queen mooning the dark hour,
Waxes and wanes at bay.
The stars are in the heavens,
Hang amongst the clouds,
Then dawn came up and did astir,
Awaken sun aroused.
ORIGINAL
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a dainty (or dandy) dish
To set before the king?
The king was in his counting house,
Counting out his money.
The queen was in the parlour,
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird
And pecked off her nose.
Placement perched will measure the life of them.
Air begged resistance as trace lacks its forms.
Mute heed legs of Black Widow Spider norms,
ghostly strands of rare resilience sense strum
for the secretive possessor. Kindred,
most blacks, and some browns share Rama's clocks on
their red or orange paunch that some do don.
Due to our size, strikes are rare, flee instead.
Venom: fifteen times stronger than rattlers.
Not all males are killed by their mates end of
breeding. Finding well-fed virgins, a suave
term tactic furthered being: home wreckers.
Destroy web that females put pheromones,
assures their breed a place among unknowns.
We live side by side
In identical houses
Leading parallel lives
You in your home
Me in mine
I see you every day
Same place
Similar time
Different clothes
Fresh hair and make-up
We exchange pleasantries
The weather, family, health
Superficial details shared
The illusion of connectedness
Furthered and maintained
As we fill in random gaps
In the tapestry of our lives
We scurry away
Me back to my house
You back to yours
As the front door closes
I imagine your life
And wonder fleetingly
Is it easier than mine?
Are you happy?
Are you more fulfilled?
Are your whites whiter?
Then I reimmerse myself in today
Thoughts of you set aside
For now at least
In the knowledge that tomorrow
The cycle will rinse and repeat
And our paths will cross again
rotten molars unnerved her moribund hunger for living on
she extracted the pain with blunt scalpels pliers and hammer
damaged her smile as well but with the cornerstones removed
in the aftermath of destruction nothing was left but a stammer
loops of denial and self-incrimination established more pain
she tore her heart out under the shelter of drugs and booze
abuse self-incrimination and injustice festered in her mind
emoted a cardiac bypass for feelings leaving nothing to lose
a spiritual minefield exploded and she gathered rapid speed
performed a lobotomy with a manual and surgical precision
hysterical psychedelia and amphetamines furthered the cause
reached complete numbness from the screwdriver’s incision
only after all operations uppers downers and morphine failed
she realized that life was to seize no matter how it panned out
checked into rehab and abandoned jigsaw super glue and fear
took up painting and poetry and excised her vile needless doubt
25th September 2020
Oh, the longings of a heart
Still waiting for romance to start
Such youthful whims and teenage dreams
They haunt my memory, it seems
Though cars and clothes in dancing beat
distracted from l’amour’s defeat
I knew they’d never ease the void
of urgent dreams yet unemployed
To love and be loved for all time
the requisite for life sublime
And so I persevered and found
The heart to which my love is bound
Though many years have furthered by
Emotions only magnify
So I recall as life rewinds
Fantastic dreams of simple minds
evil's agenda is furthered most by those who are right but hateful
June 9, 2020
CONVEYING A MESSAGE
THEY FOUND IT EASIER TO COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING
EXCEPT THEY KNEW
THAT EACH WORD SPOKEN
MEANT THE END OF THOSE YESTERDAYS THAT HAD
THEM TOGETHER
THOSE FRIENDS THEY MADE WERE NOW
PEOPLE THEY USE TO KNOW
IN A TIME THAT THEY HAD SHARED
PROSPECTING AREAS TO GAIN NEW RESPECT
WOULD ENTANGLE THEM
THEY SOUGHT BEST AND
FOUND THE
PRETENTIOUS, ARROGANT SIDE OF PEOPLE
THAT VAIN ASPECT OF NOT WANTING TO BE WRONG
AND MAKING RIGHT WHICH HAD BEEN SEEN AS WRONG
AVOIDING THEIR OPPONENTS STRENGTHS
TO EXPLOIT THEIR OPPONENTS WEAKNESS
EACH PROOF OF CONCEPT
WERE IMAGES OF AN ARTIST
THAT SAW SOMETHING
PEOPLE TO PEOPLE
PERSON TO PERSON
CONCEPT TO CONCEPT
THE INTERACTIONS OF EVERY LEVEL
FURTHERED FROM THE INTRODUCTION
WORDS FILLED IN THOSE GAPS
WERE SOUND HAD BEEN
THESE WORDS FORGED INTO PLACE BY THE
ARTISANS NEED TO JIVE
AND MERGE THESE PIECES TOGETHER
Spring rain hung around a tad bit long
Soaking Mother Nature with downpours of tiny storms
Bringing some cooler weather with cold shivering winds
Giving breaks to lawn sprinklers by Mother Nature’s will
Messing up some tree branches
Spoiling some flowering bushes
Flooding up ant colonies
Sending birds to take shelters behind tree leaves
Creeks started flowing again
Puddles started forming again
Bringing joy to snails and slugs
Calling them to explore the wet world
Ducklings liked playing in the puddles
Turkeys appreciated meals of snails and slugs
Squirrels and rabbits became jubilant
Started scurrying around with new triumph
Insects got new lives
Danced in the air buzzing at various heights
Birds got ample supply of healthy proteins
Overjoyed to feed their precious hatchlings
Mountain tops got sprinkles of fresh white powder
Curvy roads showed sights of lingering foggy vapors
Waterfalls came alive through cracks between mountain pillars
River started gushing creating rhythms of beating drums
Big raindrops of spring rain
Brought freshness to mind’s brain
Stopping dreary thought trains
Furthered to enjoy Mother Nature’s magnificent plays again
In the center of your core there is a spiritual sparkle that longs to be lit. You are the only person who can light the wick and set your soul on fire with words of love, peace and joy. Bring yourself home to you, and watch the transformation of your heart take place. (Breathe in and out )
The creative angels of heaven have asked God for your DNA and as we speak they are helping you renew the cells of mercy and compassion from the Divine Light within you. Dormant no more, your progress is furthered as you change the way you look at the world and give it new breath and life. (Breathe in and out ) slowly.
Picture 8 hand held sparklers lighting up your beautiful birthday cake. Sizzling it into life and a wonderful future. Hope is the frosting that sweetens the cake, and Faith is the soft moist batter that gives it taste. (Breathe)
Don't give haste to your life. Take time for the little things. Like meaningful talks that can heal the soul. Kiss and hug much, smile even more. Don't give the old self a chance to sabotage the success of the vibrant human being that you have now, become. (Breathe in and out )slowly and give thanks.
I admire the wrinkles upon your face
They are beautiful to see
They're folds, lines and creases
And you wear them courageously.
You awarded some to the most
And most to those with less
For these that you have handed
Your face has so been blessed.
The birth of these markings
Are born from blessings with a kiss
Thus your life has been so furthered
To exhibit heavenly bliss.
Brenda Elizabeth Rose
My life is pen and paper
My world was built with them
And still they’re true forever
Till when the worlds will end
They helped me with the letters
And see me through life’s school
They know when, if and whether
My returns would be good
Now pen then ink and feather
Who stored up memories
Upon cloth or brown paper
Now made to history
They're true and never skitter
About what has been known
Their wisdom's cheap, but glitters
And turns us into gold
My world is pen and paper
My life made colourful
And blessed by these two mothers
I bless thee my people
They helped me with math furthered
And also with the games
Now through the storm and weather
They've risen up my name
When even in cold winter
Their work’s still beautiful
And as it gets colder
They are more wonderful
Life was made with you my brothers
Well made like the sparkling stars
That shines and points their fingers
To none but God on high
"THE INK"
Spots left behind; a blur of once upon a time
To be was just an example, and furthered humankind
I to am a splatter of semi-existence;
To be forgotten as time presses on
WHY ? the unanswered question;
That leads a sane mind astray
I ask but, still no answer
As slowly life fades away
If time was of no importance, how would I guide this life I live
But, time is the utmost importance and very little do we have to spare
Fast will come death to claim us;
despair soon will follow behind
I don't want to die
As I'm sure many another feel the same
Yet, all will die; this is the inevitability that we all do share
Left behind the written
Memoirs of a lifetime; read with eyes tear filled
And at books closing; what we all must someday feel.
how can you be furthered with my understanding, without reading the words that i say,
remembrance and knowledge are a given to you every time you read and pray,
i mark my words down in your heart, they pertain to what you do,
the pain is erased with every trial you face, or every struggle you go through,
it will keep you steady and solid, balanced in love and standing,
my love will give u soundness of mind, with me there's no misunderstanding.
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