Duplicity
Is there a person present beyond the plastic shell?
The AI generation exemplifies artificiality
The same plastic makeup that is prevalent in humans.
Are we people, or are we robots with artificial intelligence?
Devoid of real feeling and emotion, fixated on self.
While our fellow men waste away,
Their calls for support and help lay in vain.
We remain fixated on money, on gadgets on flimsy values
Hypnotised by material things, by disposable whatnots.
Gone are care, compassion, role modelling, and humanity.
Selfishness, greed and egoism have entered our lives
Truth be told, we are not moved or touched by anything!
The God-created human form and being
Sadly replaced by machine learning, by robotics by codes!
We are deaf, we are blind, we are retarded.
We live in a disposable world, a world destined to crumple.
We replace organs, goods, people and entertainment
By computer graphics, AI tools and 3D printing.
Are we using intelligence? Are we using our God-given brain?
Or do we mimic the robots, the AI Gods and the Handbook for Dummies?
One never knows, I guess, even this work may be from outer world.
From this angle the bushes do not conceal them.
Are they hinged or unhinging?
Each body is a prison gate for the other,
both seem stuck together by a pungent lip spit.
Feathering fingers pulse-play over gulping skin.
Greedy eyes zoom in,
unbuckling muscles sift and trowel,
modelling the creaming and palpable.
This public act despoils the evening
yet it also sweetens.
I feel the need to rut,
to suck inward all this carnality,
to sup upon this liqueur of spiced flesh,
even though my cupped hands
remain regretfully or not,
unsullied.
Come one, come all, to the grand affair!
The emperor sells his finest robes bare!
After a child called out: "He has no clothes"
What would the crowd bid for those?
The emperor beamed, modelling his finest gown.
Woven in gold thread, with jewels all around.
Silks and satins, woven with skill in fancy seams,
To be auctioned off, as the suit of his dreams.
The crowd cheered, adoring his gall and pride,
While hiding their giggles and snickers aside.
“Such courage!” they cried with a mischievous grin,
To auction off his birthday suit he was born in!
The auctioneer cried: "Now come on what is bid"
For the world finest, in invisible clothes hid.
For these Emperor clothes are fit for a King!
Who knows what fame and fortune they will bring?
The room ignited, the bidding went wild,
As emperor posed, smiled; he was so beguiled!
"Sold!" cried the auctioneer, banging his hammer,
To the nudist, wearing his pride with such glamour.
EVERY TUNIC’S TUCKED
squeamish that every tunic’s tucked
on one side, lopsided, uncouth
on the page, in the book - why is
every model told to tuck her hand
inside her pocket, jam her socket
into her pants, plunge me into distress.
If they want us to buy online, can’t
we size it up ourselves. I laugh
like crazy…going crazy…the lazy
love to push buttons and tuck.
well i’m out of luck, looking through
glaring pages, glossing over, needled.
insensitive to my plight? perhaps
you have your own quirk. don’t
laugh behind my back…hit me
on the chin. just don’t tuck your tunic
with your hand in one pocket. i panic
at the unprofessional modelling. i turn
away, i scorn, i feel sick. the lazy
like to set up every one the same.
their camera should be ashamed…
how lame. let me speak…let me shout.
i was kidding about the chin -
keep it to yourself…
Championing freedom and liberty
Lady of courage midst tenacity
Stands along truth while defying deceit
Upholding virtues with serenity.
Transformed through love’s might from failure’s defeat
Peace-filled lady stays grounded at her feet
Joyously caring, sharing, reaching-out
Showing miraculous conversion treat.
Determined to win over carnal bout
Valiant lady faces attacking doubt
To conquer with prayer afflicting pain
Extricating self from unbelief’s clout.
Seeking forgiveness for soul’s guilty stain
Repentant lady confesses heart-strain
Since pardon drives her faith to do what’s best
Ready in distributing blessings’ gain.
That's my partner midst my spiritual quest
Hope-propelled lady of stewardship zest
Modelling divine nature by God's grace
Smiting evil blight, surmounting sin‘s pest
She's our mother in our orphanage days
Helping us perform best in unique ways
Triumphant midst pain showing her beauty
Now, I am trained to take her wondrous place.
Edited on June 29, 2025 for the contest, "How well do you know your partner (With a twist)" sponsored by Poet Destroyer A.
VIRTUAL RARITIES
techniques
transformed
to
explore
the potentials &
possibilities
of
modelling
the
initiative&
generatively
appropriated &
reimagined
renditions
surrounded
by
iterative complexity
extracted
&
merged
with the
visual
expressing
a mood
static
tangible
& prominent
inn
alternatives
stylised imagery
symbolised
by
the
serene
introspective
distilled
with
uncertainty
marginalised
in
precedents by
conceptual
stereotypes
expressed
in token
proponents
so finely
tuned
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Victoria's Secret hottie
Was modelling something naughty
With it all on view
What else could I do
But make a run for the potty?
Samuel Cooper a miniaturist
with modelling heads did persist
Accuracy& proportion was his style
achieved by talent& a little guile
Hey Commander
Hey Commander can’t you see
The way forward that’s meant to be
Standing there waiting for the cue
Your the one who should know what to do
The light is on and the camera rolls
Take your time and explain the goals
What is meant to be we will see
Do we want to live our life free
So Commander make your call
Don’t just stand there when we hear all
You supposed to know once the bell rings
Go ahead say it’s safe when in it swings
What to do when it goes bad
Your modelling should have shown a red flag
Then again ask was it meant to be
Go quietly as the Commander do you see.
© Paul Warren Poetry
In the last days of ignorance, those Hands that will shape and nurture the impending uncertain future meet. They discuss what powerful, influential Mouths have said. Hands preparing for the future Mouths have granted them.
plans based on science
speculative modelling
statistical views
society’s best wishes
these last days of ignorance
Father our creator and friend,
Companion to the very end.
Mentoring our lives with friendship and happiness,
Guiding us to an excellence in education.
Clothing and housing us thru the years,
Days and nights without fear.
Father who listens to our stories,
Patient and caring.
Teaching us a love of art and music,
Modelling parenting well.
Sports became an excellent pastime ,
Swimming our favorite hobby.
The world is a better place with fathers,
The strength and anchor among the storms.
I am thankful to God,
The blessing of my father.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz
An ode to Greta Thunberg
Where’s Greta Thunberg?
I’ve missed her daily rant
I guess she’s back in Sweden
outside a nuclear plant
Or is she content and satisfied
the CO levels are down
Or is she modelling in Vogue
her drabbest dressing gown?
Where is Greta Thunberg?
the world's a quieter place
Two more years of shut down
and we’ll never see her face
Sweden is lucky to have her,
a visionary sure as hell
In ten years, they’ll say her name
and it won’t ring a bell
Please stay in isolation
with whoever writes your view
And takes all your money,
you’ve made a million or two
The world's a better place now,
your work is surely done
Let’s finish the kid's protests
and let them have some fun.
Faithful stewards* strive for “Well done!”
Doing utmost with strength’s fullest
Serving Christ, the eminent One
Who deserves verily the best.
With the Lord’s grace as girding might
Faithful stewards strive for “Well done!”
Radiating life-building's bright light
Exemplified by God's great Son.
With masterpiece they had begun
Perfection upon faith-venture
Faithful stewards strive for “Well done!”
Through divine nature and nurture.
Modelling humble excellence
Inspiration for everyone
Working in diligent silence
Faithful stewards strive for “Well done!”
*Matthew 25:21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
January 14, 2020
Honorable Mention, "STRAND SELECT U,any form ,any theme" Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 2/19/2020.
She's "cute as a button" is a well known expression
Could even make modelling a successful profession
She'd sure have my vote
She chokes up my throat
Wearing a bikini, might cause a transgression
Up the dark and barricaded staircase
With a monitor well focused between their legs
They came to digest an Ego
Caress ten long fingers aflame at the tips
Imbibe bright juice
Heal a chequered heart
Mount the focussed quartz
Don the weathered leather
Flip geopathic stress
As African heroes from the past
Stare through windows draped in white satin
They smooth peppercorn hair
In ecstacies of bliss as delicate oil
Flare their nostrils, ignite their liver
While township youth play dice upstairs
Modelling their future on one man alone
As ten jazz tunes are whistled from corners
The piano remains covered in velvet
With a white knight trying some stunts
And a wizard talks tales of Mecca
Fathering some orphans watching TV
Then prays on centre stage......
They twist locks and slit bars/
Violet suns streams in
All is touched with gold as he glances
At their toes, skirmishes their
Breasts in figures of 8
On a path to the Beyond
White witches in the Wind
( View Recital of poem by Poet on YouTube @ghairodanielspresence )
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