Pebble Poems

From precious stone, a pebble

If not nigh like dotcom bubble
AI seems in no small trouble.
GPT five’s failure,
Would the rest regain roar?
If ever rise from near rubble?
________________________
Happenings | 02.09.2025 | technology, USA 
Note: Is AI a bubble, too much hype and boisterous babble? Is a bust coming? GPT5 admitted a flop show. Nvidia gave but a modest forecast. MIT study: 95% of dreams failed to deliver… Time was when adding ‘.com’ to a company’s name boosted its value. Today, adding ‘AI powered’ does the same trick. Too much is being expected from AI too soon. Anyway, AI seems to have hit a wall. Would it scale it to move ahead, or a precious stone turn a pebble? This ditty wonders.

fri-end-ship

from the I-shaped metal
we set sail to the ocean
with a pirate crew over dozen
as lightning struck and tide crashes
to go over the horizon together
has always been the X mark we trailed
then there's the cannon boring hole
and the mermaid's enchanting call

to a single pebble, tied to a rugged rope
we drift away to the sea
some survived remained ashore
keeping stone to be afloat
being a rock is to keep adore
a new ship, as the old one's sunken
with few and enough crew
despite the artilleries and the abyss pull

To Teach A Pebble How To Sing

To teach a pebble how to sing,
you need a simple shepherd’s sling.

The stone’s inclined to be a grouch
when first you set it in the pouch.

It will go silent, being trapped
so tightly in the leather wrapped.

But as you swing the pouch around,
it comes alive; you hear a sound.

At last that pebble sings with glee
as you release and set it free.

One Precious Pebble On Earth, One Precious Pebble In The Sea

                            ( a series of homophones, to delight you. ) 

One Precious Pebble on earth one precious pebble in the sea 
roll with the waves my child and look, see what you can see    

As the wind's of change stir your soul and whip your hair
you'll be wild and free on this earth just like the wild hare 

Cup your hands and drink the blessed water like the lily flower 
I'm a Father who lives for your healing, in a cloud of white flour    

I can bring you riches that no amount of money can ever buy 
and when your time on earth is over, I'll be there by and by 

Today you are meeting the future that yesterday's storm blew,  
but tomorrow I will greet you, beneath skies of Saintly blue 

One precious child in a vessel of old, you are part of Noah's Ark 
lift your eyes then wait and I'll soon show you a rainbow's arc.  

By Mystic Rose

Jane-By-Pebble-Beach: -2-

Clint's an iffy fellow, tis prestige vs the ordinaire, my dear plain Jane--hmm, partially accommodating. 

Methinks you're a drop-off, my dear, picture a car dropping you off curbside while he goes looking for a fictitious parking space, but a gentleman he is uses the factual context of the 11th hour--OPS you to HAIL me.

I gather Mr. Eastwood was gifted said ticket, ... that I am guessing you so happened to be in pysical possession.

How did you know that? That would pleasure him of not being a CAD!

I forgot that you're like some madda carrie.

Mother who? You mean that Mother Teresa (rising popularity 1979).

No, that German one.

A German Mother Teresa? Was she young Adolph's school teacher.

Oh forget it! [LATER: she reveals "Mata Hari']" 

Did he you call you and tell you, or are you playing Holmes?

Doc--tor 'tis Clint's gift?

Yes, but-- ... --wait ... it must be somebody of importance ... yes, but who?

 Hehehe! It would be very rich for me, if I saw a glimpse of your face at this relevant juncture-------was I your suggested choice? 


 ... Yes, Oh my? You're scary!

Jane-By-Pebble-Beach: -1-

Jane, my former fellow-worker friend, who lives in Carmel-By-The-Sea, and had been visited by many of us from work.

Gleaning Clint as a third invitee at His Hog's Breath Cafe/Tavern, thanks to Jane<--impetus of my 114 miles (228 miles in total, down/up) drive from my San Francisco home, with the added feature, aside from Clint, is California's central coastline drive ... ala incredible folks.

It's been some time since the store episode/trapped-i/epic-sword, in-back at home recovering.

My phone rang during days that it did, of horrid prices and matching service, hmm--half a second or half a century.

Anyhow, tis Jane calling for a special invite to The Grand as her creative date/Clint cancelled last minute as he found her to be his perfect catch at 21 ... to a catch 22, so the lamb pulled out of the bag and clawed me.

a pebble in the sand

watching the ocean 
whilst sitting in solitude 
I feel so tiny

The Pebble

If you have a little rock in your shoe,
You will not cross Alabama, 
You will not cross Louisiana,
You’ll have to remove it first,

In poetry, it is the opposite,
If you have a small pebble in your shoe,
Do not remove it, think about it
Make it into a poem.

A Pebble, This River

This river travels through the world,
Traversing cultures; mysteries unfurl. 
A rock caught in the current; this pebble,
Rough firstly, each scrape, bump; at times trouble. 
Overcoming tribulations, the current; this rock, 
Travels along the bed; foundations. 
It’s surface smoothing, landing on the bank;
Baking in the sun with waves over top; soothing. 
Not an end, but a living journey; this river,
And a pebble looking for identity to be delivered.

The Delightful Pebble-

 the delightful pebble 
Who's pebble Is that think I know 
It's owner is quite angry though
 She has crossed like a dark potato
 I want your pace I cry hello
 She gives his pebble a shake
 And screams I made a bad mistake 
The only other sound the break
 Of distant waves and birds awake
The  pebble is delightful and deep
The but she has a promise to keep 
Tormented with nightmares she never sleeps
 Revenge is a promise a man a man should keep 
He rises from her purse bed 
The thoughts of violence in her head 
A flash of rage and she sees red 
Without a pause I turned and fled


3/27/19
5/10/23
10th grade student of Justin Walcott revision
Based off of James Edward Lee Sr poem 
written March 27th 2019 
The Delightful and Orchard Blush Apple Tree

The Pebble

The Pebble
Sat innocuously
Silent and still,
Yet the tale it could tell, 
would span a million lifetimes.
Locked inside, for no one to know;
No one yet the pebble,
Is the fossil in it's heart.
To break the fossil free, 
loses the stone.
Sit still dear pebble, 
retain your secret forever.

Last Millenniums of a Beach Pebble

Rolling in the tides of time,
   the larger rock a pebble now,
Rattle crackles with the others
   in the squirming gravel’s maw.

Up back down - up back down, 
   persistent, insistent waves of the tide of time:
Boisterous thundering; rolling, boiling cannon roar,
   returning calmed in rushing brine.

Pebbles flash dance in sandy froth,
   razzle-dazzle in cross tide ripples,
Mingle there with beaches flotsam
   bright shiny in the sparkling stipple.

Relentless seesaw ebb-tides, sliding grinding
   the pebble to sand in timeless wave labor;
Ground so fine its powder dissolving:
   pebble flesh now sea foam vapor.

                           Eternal flow of lava birth,
                              pebble life resumes on earth.

Rock On

Don’t take for granite who you are
Just be a little boulder
Remember that you’re made of stars
And someday when you’re older

You may be a marble statue
That the pebbles gaze upon
And the world shale marvel at you
And of quartz you will rock on.

Pebble Beach Day Out

Beyond the wave-sacked,
lie the pockmarked dunes, heaps dug
by the claws of scaly thrashers.

Here they huddle, my blood kin
flogging grim pleasures,
wolfing eggy sandwiches,
dipping tea-stained teeth into beakers.

By a shoaling shale and monochrome spray
one brine-splattered small fry.
A boyhood caught in a swirling freshet,
he whales barefoot in the flounder,
skimming the slimy kelp, stalking
a slippage of tugging surf.

Her demeanor soggy at last, mother
goads to be led to the creaking camper.
Father smokes a plug of leathery shag,
grunts upright, walks toward the sea.

A toppled thermos and leftovers
scooped up and lugged away.
Windswept, the lingerers
trudge from the chilly churn,
while a soused and hectoring bay
records a working-class holiday.

Last Sunset Over Pebble Beach

i went to pebble beach
where we first met
sat and waited
for the sun to set

tossed a pebble
as far as i could see
and hoped somehow
that you'd remember me



AP: 2nd place 2022

Posted on May 3, 2022

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