AI is groupthink, it’s hewed to pre-existing work,
which it aggregates into something bland and flat.
If you don’t want your work scraped and copied by AI, try
writing off-balance ideas that aren’t for everyone and have faith
that AI will never be able to actually rival human creativity.
Deny AI the echo chamber of predictable content on which it feeds.
I polish my pieces to a pointless sheen, which gives
them an algorithmically indecipherable quality.
When it comes my to poetry, I have to admit,
I’m working through mediocrity—hoping that it’s just a phase.
If failure is essential for growth
I’m going to be a giant
But after all, someone has to define the baseline.
You’re welcome.
Ok, Let’s wax poetic..
There are thousands of stars
in that black outer-place
where gravitas holds them
firmly in place.
I fret not about avian abductions,
or unidentified flying soccers,
still, I’ve a waxed on them
in multiverse
.
.
Songs for this:
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone
Late Night Talking by Harry Styles
I’m finally going to get on that platform
on the 18th of next month,
for a first-time, one-time performance.
The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true,
which seems like a lot narratively.
It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out.
Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions.
We’re all caustically optimistic.
Although there’s a cellular-level pull to move on
we can’t help but feel a hesitancy to jump into our multifarious futures.
We’ve never been improvident.
In my personal pool of experience, when I feel alone,
friendless and unseen, this unintelligible fear noise arises,
and I'm tempted to tap out. But I never have.
.
.
Songs for this:
walk but in a garden by LLusion
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone
Limericks written for St. Patrick's Day
Celebrate the Irish in ev'ry way
It's said in tales of old
Leprechauns buried gold
At the rainbow's end it was meant to stay
It's a day for dancing and wearin' green
Shamrocks in the hair of each colleen
To Erin Go Bragh, a toast
A holiday loved by most
But kissin' the Blarney Stone's not my scene
The Emerald Isle's heathered hills are lush
where on a Bonnie lass you'll have a crush
Walking on Dublin's shore
Or on the grassy moor
You can steal a wee kiss to make her blush
The seventeenth of March will soon be here
St. Patrick's Day arrives every year
Jameson~ take a swig
Then dance an Irish jig
Or imbibe Guiness with lots of good cheer
The time will come when this holiday ends
And I'll wish my days here I could extend
Irish blood flows in my veins
Here, part of my heart remains
I'll just sing Molly Malone and pretend.
No mystery here.
I’ll speak the truth,
Whatever that truth may be.
Some say truth is relative.
How can that be the case?
What’s relative is our personal slant
Seen through a particular shade.
Truth stands alone.
It doesn’t change.
"Truth is like a lion.
You don't have to defend it.
Let it loose...
It will defend Itself."
Facts can’t be manipulated.
Beneath all structures
The Matrix stands unmoved.
It can’t be annihilated.
Consciousness governs the essence
Of life and is what keeps it spinning.
Everything else, we hang upon
Its structures and accept in acquiescence.
Not truth, but conjecture,
Projection for personal gain.
The Truth is much more beautiful
Than we could ever imagine.
It smiles at our naiveté
And continues to hold
The universe together.
*Dr. Robert Malone
Copyright Chula Fleming © Sept 30, 2024
The blackboard waited stark and bare
As yet, there was no teacher there
A striding vision, took the chalk
You know… I recognised that walk
Miss Malone’s Dulcet tones
Sent a shudder through my bones
Her flowing hair with blonde highlights
Her mini skirt and fishnet tights
The way she stood with feet spread wide
And the purpose in her stride
I gave my mate a little nudge
His loving gaze just wouldn’t budge
I said, “Forget your lurid thoughts,
We’re barely out of schoolboy shorts.”
He nodded at her crimson lips
The wiggle in her swaying hips
I said, “You’re fourteen, feeling flirty,
That there teacher’s nigh on thirty!”
He said, “I’ve heard her name is Maisie,
She makes me feel all oops-a-daisy”
I said, “She’s glam, that much is true,
But truly, she ain’t right for you.”
It seemed he thought me quite remiss
And so I had to tell him this,
“She seems quite able in her job
But last week, Miss Malone… was Bob!”
Pretty Molly Malone, she likes to drink alone,
and wants to be the next Hemingway.
Writes down every word, that she has ever heard,
but never has anything to say.
Well good Reverend Rob, after his Sunday job,
goes home and ties his wife to the bed.
His fire is burning hot, he gives her all he’s got,
but he can’t love with a heart that’s dead.
Chorus:
People want to keep on dreaming,
but they always end up screaming,
and pulling the hair from their head.
This city will remain the same,
though some of the places and names,
have been changed to protect the dead.
Wanda works on the street, hoping that she will meet,
the kind of man she’s been searching for.
The one that says honey, please take all my money,
she’ll grab it and want twenty bucks more.
Now when old Greasy Joe, passed away in the snow,
they said that a needle was to blame.
He died in December, but none will remember,
cause his headstone does not have a name.
Repeat Chorus:
Those cars they keep stopping, Billy’s head keeps bobbing,
at the end of some dark alleyway.
There’s no way fifty bucks, is gonna change his luck,
but it might chase some demons away.
Repeat Chorus:
....BREAKING NEWS
BREAKING NEWS......
Bye, Bye, Chris Cuomo!
Gee, no tears will be in my ale!
Such be the high cost,
To keep brother, Andrew out of jail.
Now, you can both go to MSNBC!
And with Rachel Maddow ?
You will be twins of news frivolity.
John Malone headed to clean up CNN.
Good luck, Malone, there are more to
fire, for sure, before then.
We need news not mean, vicious
propaganda.
To dance and drink lemonade, finally,
on a truth constructed news veranda.
***John Malone.John was the head of a
huge cable company years ago.
He is a man of integrity. I used to work
for him. Best wishes to CNN.
John runs a tight ship!PR
12/4/2021
Patrick Ewing
What you chewing?
Larry Bird
Hall-of-Fame assured
Scottie Pippen
Lid's still flippin'
Tim Duncan
Legacy hasn't sunk in
Bill Bradley
Didn't play badly
Walt Frazier
Sharp as a razor
Moses Malone
The backboard you owned
George (The Iceman Cometh) Gervin
a-wigglin' and swervin'
Reggie Miller
4th-quarter killer
Manute Bol
Bless his soul
Anne Bressington Lord Christopher Monkton Rashid Buttar dr Vernon Coleman dr Sherri Tenpenny Dr Peter McCullough Dr Ben Tapper, nurse Kate Semrani nurse Shelly Tasker Deborah Conrad Jane Mikovits Del Matthew Bigtree Christine Ronald Bernard
Northrup Simone Gold Robert F Kennedy jr Suzanne Humphries Andrew Wakefield
Kelly Brogan Joseph Mercola Lee Merritt Alex Berenson Ty Bollinger Alexandra Mention
Polly Tommey Barbara Los Fisher Rocco Gelato Dennis Rancourt Alex Jones Paul A Off it
Dr Steven Hotze Dr Luc Montagnier Dr Mariano Amici Dr Jane M Orient Dr Micheal Yeadon
Father James Altman Paul Craig Roberts archbishop Vigano Maria Claire Edwards ex un official also Dr Graham Lyons 'Aus senator Malcome Roberts' president Jaier Bolsenaro Brazil Professer Francis Boyle
Ricardo Bosi Luitenant colonel Australian sas retired. Dr Ronald Kostoff ( Dr Robert Malone Msrn experimental
Vaccine builder.) Dr Mercola
Know Me
By Deanna Malone
The leaves have fallen the sky is gray,
no birds are singing to help brighten the day.
I start my day with a smile in place
for all to see I have dignity and grace.
\My saddness hidden i'm on my way,
to a job that doesn't quite pay.
\For here I am, mother, father,
friend and foe,instructor,provider
and the list goes on and on you KNOW.
\I strive for growth,perfection and peace,
I must give totally of myself
there are young ones I must reach.
\I am shaping the minds of Doctors, Lawyers,
Preachers,and Teachers.
\Though unappreciated I move forward,
with a light in my eyes anda song in my heart,
I must always be fair, kind and just for in
my hands the future you intrust.
\Do you Know me now? I am teacher indeed
and its not about what Igo through only about a childs needs.
Empty
By Deanna M Malone
Afraid to live
not wanting to die
always teary eyed.
\Full of emotion
Yet empty inside.
\Lifes promises broken
I love you never spoken.
\I was given to you to love cherish
and protect.
\Another house
never a home.
\Roots never laid
friends never made
\I'm just a child you know
how will I ever grow.
RoseAnn Malone resolved to lose weight.
She made a list of foods to forsake.
She did well 'till week four
eating more than before.
Airlines had to bill her at the freight rate.
World of tears -
We live in a sad sad world.
Full of sad little boys
And sad little girls
And despite the shared sadness of our loved ones and our peers
No one makes a frown
no one shows their tears
Because In a sad sad world where sadness is feared
ignoring the sadness makes it disappear
By: chasey Malone
I got lost in a book
somewhere in between
the opening line
and chapter nineteen.
I couldn't get out.
There wasn't a way,
trapped in a plot
that was strictly horseplay.
You better send teams
who are willing to search
for clues in a murder
committed in church,
where money is missing,
and candlesticks too.
Poor Reverend Reicker,
found dead in a pew!
I need a stiff drink.
I'm as dry as a bone.
Police everywhere,
and Detective Malone.
He's asking me questions.
What? When? And why?
My mind is a blank,
and I've no alibi.
Everything's here...
all the parts of a novel,
the setting, the crime,
(I'm starting to grovel)
clues for the clueless,
a climax so close.
I'm an innocent bystander,
in bed, comatose!
"If you aren't the killer;
if you aren't the crook,
just how in the Hell did you
get in this book?"
"It's the fault of the author.
He's just too damned good.
He scattered the words,
And I went where I could."
Snakes And Long Frocks
Paddy's day in long frocks
in pursuit of the snake
for crisp plastic shamrock
or far-eastern fake
But great day for the Irish
our rubbing of the green
with drops of the hard stuff
pints and poteen
Great men altogether
voices toward the tarry ceiling
Oh Danny boy we all cried
sung trice before leaving
Now come back Paddy Reilly
to Ballyjamesduff
while *** smoke there drifts
out of porch and dim snug
Tunes writ for black porter
sandwiches for the well ill
we'll call a taxi for the Bull Malone
as old men drink their fill
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