Long Too much information Poems
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It wasn't all that long ago when a hole in the ground was where people would go.
Many grew sick from lack of hygiene so some one invented the pit latrine.
This greatly prevented the spread of disease. People squatted over a slab
and bent at the knees.
The first flushable was used by British royalty, a toilet that the commoner
would never see.
Chamber pots and out houses were used by many.
They composted the waste and saved a lot of pennies.
Years later dry toilets were used in most homes.
They had a wooden seat as their throne.
Some time during the twentieth century flushable toilets were
in every home you would see.
Tout allure and hello to a cleaner way.
A clever French man invented the bidet.
Is this too much information? Don't go yet.
The end of my evolution of the toilet.
Maybe you shouldn't send the letter
Argued counsel in my head
But the moral compass pointed
Toward transparency instead
I have always walked the straight path
From the time I was a boy
To the noble and the righteous
Revelation brings but joy
There's no gangster or homemaker
President or CEO
That is going to subvert justice
Not while I am on patrol
Now the careless and the reckless
Not necessarily a crime
To you I'll give a warning
Do not cross me one more time
Like apocryphal Washington
If it's a lie I cannot tell
Inclusive of the truth withholding
It is I who sounds the bell
There is too much information
Some is fresh and some is not
I'll call an investigation
And we'll find out what is what
Maybe I overreacted
Turns out there's nothing to see
Let us have it all redacted
This revolution's not on me
January 13, 2017
In search of the human mind
Different thoughts crossed my mind,
a few conclusions I could not find
The human mind has no stop!
Receiving input, danger, before I blow my top
Sometimes the light clicks
I think I figured out the problem
It's at the tip of my mind ;-)
Sorry, my brain cells did it again,
Ran out of THINK!
When it comes to love, I'm brain dead!
This is me talking to my brain,
"Are you just being lazy, you fell too quick?"
A game in a maze inside my head!
Give me some help, or what use are you
Open the way only you can unlock the door.
Unfold my future, stop hiding the key
How about it mind?
Do you want me to put you back on pills?
Stand back brain, while I explain your job.
The Human mind is not easy to read like a book
However, some are cruel limiting judgment, with one look
The mind plays tricks when too much information is perceived
The mind is related to the heart, sending signals the wrong way
The mind works when the body's asleep
(I call it a dream, I hope you don't mind I put it there!)
The mind creates beauty, wonders of the world
The mind is a soft whisper, a secret, my conscious ---I Swear
The mind is devious, tricky can outsmart like a fox
The mind is a beautiful thing to waste in a box
The mind can journey, without leaving its nest
The mind is knowledge, many fail to explore
The mind is a Captain, traveling far and beyond
The mind is like a paint brush, colorful art
The mind is a creature who hides in a cave
The mind is like pain, don't stop in its way
The mind is like a mime who does not talk at all
The mind is fragile, don't use it like a sponge
The mind is like a pair of shoes,
without the mind we're bare
The bottom line is, the mind is a mystery!
Don't mind me, I lost my mind, years ago :):):)
(THOUGHTS)
That's too much information
Speak slower
Oh my, that was too loud
Be quiet
I don't like when you talk
Be still
Words...so many WORDS
...restraint
How does one find balance
Truth must be spoken
DISLIKE Declarations
Have left me broken
...silence
Pressure builds
Hope thins, like ice inviting a skate
Movement feels like plodding
Toward an armed gate
...stymied
Breathe of life, failed
I can not sense my heart
It may be beating, yet
I know not where to start
...lost
Trust feels odd, out of sync
No forward, no going back
Nervous system, reset
Discernment has gone black
...grace....whispers
You are loved
Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-18-2026
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)
LIFE IN A SUITCASE
Crawling in the loft today, I found the suitcase.
Through a cobweb curtain, beneath a patina of dust
It lay.
Just where it’s lain for twenty years, full of memories of early days.
The suitcase.
The rusting lock resisted but eventually succumbed.
I tentatively raised the led..
And there, on top, the baby book, pages edged in blue,
Lovingly recording every detail as I grew.
Birth weight 6 pounds ten.
First tooth, first word (real or imagination?)
First step, first use of potty? Please Mum, too much information.
First inoculation.
First day at school. Is that a tear stain on the page?
Underneath, a folder full of dreaded school reports;
Teachers choosing from a list of typical retorts,
Cliché after cliché.
Progress satisfactory, written work untidy; English good.
In geography he’s lost his way; must try harder,
And now a sheaf of cuttings, yellowing as cuttings do.
A public record of my passage through
Those early days.
My parents proudly announce my birth in nineteen- thirty-eight.
My coming of age in ‘fifty-nine..
The engagement, the wedding, the first-born son;
The second, the third – where did he come from?
An afterthought.
But here’s a form, in legalese beyond dispute;
The parting of the ways is absolute.
That wasn’t part of the plan.
The story in the suitcase ends just there;
There’s no more room for records telling where
Life took me next.
Somewhere up there, another suitcase houses volume two.
But that’s for another day.
Today I have too much to do.
1st August 2020
Dusty Old Memories poetry contest
Sponsor Constance La France
turn off the news
take my hand
let's walk around
the old neighborhood again
take off your shoes
sit a spell
just relax
take time to chill
get out of the kitchen
there's too much heat
we can go downtown
to that small cafe to eat
don't pick up the phone
tonight belongs to us
we won't be bother
tonight it's just us
it's time to be HAPPY
it's time to smile
we work so hard
to make life worthwhile
just one day to be selfish
just one day without care
it's time to be HAPPY
the world isn't going anywhere
too much information
too much in a hurry
too little time
too many worries
is it a crime
for just one day
to get off the world
everything will be okay
it's time for HAPPY
it's time to smile
it's time for us
it's time to make life worthwhile
It's impossible to hum with your nose blocked
Don't try it you'll give yourself a hernia
About two hundred babies are born every minute
Guess there's not much doing in suburbia
Dust under your bed is your own dead skin
Unbelievable but that's what they say
There are more nerve cells in the human brain
Than there's stars in the Milky Way
The water you drink has already been drunk
By others, what a charming thought
Donkeys kill more people than plane crashes
That's not something I think of a lot
A million dollars in one hundred dollar bills
Weighs only about twenty-two pounds
A disposable diaper holds seven pounds of pee
That's too much information I've found
97% of money contains a trace of cocaine
Have you sniffed your dollar bills of late
The glue on Israeli stamps is certified kosher
This leaves me in an overwrought state
10 million bricks are in the Empire State Building
Masons surely had a heavy load
That's it for now but there'll be more to follow
Keep an eye out for them down the road
Lexicon is a little wild creature with wings.
This sets the waves in motion through space.
Words are carried in the air or the seas with stings.
In poetry, words may bridge at a faster pace.
Drops of rain slither down the window.
As wisps of mist escape from my mouth.
Candle burns and shade casts an innuendo.
My sight fades like frost, and we'll fly south.
Words have the ability to both heal and harm.
Words have the ability to crush your heart.
Shred your soul and ruin you like a worm.
And it enters the bones via any body part.
Your words might expose you to hazards.
Avoid giving away too much information.
Words are nothing more than haphazard.
Ignoring tracks that won't peak imagination.
Written: March 02, 2023
Why do some people commit suicide?
When is enough enough
What makes them decide
To finish living
Before the end of their ride
Why do they want to come to an abrupt end
Nobody knows what's around the bend
Perhaps they are under too much stress
Have feelings of uselessness
That makes them depressed
Despair engulfs
They feel out of breath
The only way out for their peace of mind
To these people is death
At our Grandson's school
A girl took her own life
She had a close family
And an excellent IQ
What was the reason
I haven't a clue
Maybe excess when everything's too much
Overload of everything
Looking around for a crutch
Something to lean on
If only for a spell
Pause, take time out
And hopefully, all will be well
People who are high achievers
Need to rest their brain
Cramming too much information
Can explode causing pain
Pain causes stress in everyone
Not just the elite
Nobody's life journey
Is perfect and complete
It is tragic when one so young feels lost
To give everything away
Without counting the cost
Not to just themselves but
Everyone that knew and loved her
With all their heart
Their despair and sadness
Now tearing them apart
Like everyone living
I don't know what this means
Is the explanation
Something in our genes