oh yes, I am pixilated
This cannot be overstated
At least I am not still constipated
movements never premeditated
my freedom is to be celebrated
Youth is not on my side anymore
Dreams yet to load from my analog days
Caught up in the bitrate of life
A legacy model looming
up an exponential curve
Heuristic hallucinations take flight
Missiles of meaning miss their mark.
Upscaled re-runs of the same
Intercepted by inaptitude
Shot down by time
But tools are emerging
Bridging the gap
Between ideas and ability
Sparking a reboot revolution
No longer a sandbox simulation
Overthrowing the government inside
Who said "impossible"
Who said "too late"
Who said "there's no soul"
A stream of X-pectations
Cutting edge stones
used millennia ago
Replaced by cutting edge algorithms
The antidote to my regret
In my reconfigured evolution
Dreams start to render in full HD
Prompting launches that land
Retrospective adeptness
Connection restored
No longer binary Oh, yes
An antidote to regret
A cure for the abyss
I use AI to engineer my life
The way I had always dreamed
One prompt at a time
Or was i just Beta tested
To birth the singularity?
A holographic hoodlum
In a pixilated glitch...
Coined by Nakamoto a bit.
Like a mad man
without a plan,
slightly insane,
dancing in the rain,
pixilated dreams
like shallow streams,
leave me bemused,
restless, but amused,
but my soul is tried
from those bullets fired,
when loved ones depart,
leaves holes in my heart,
as guns aren't coded,
when locked and loaded.
Those memory lanes,
flying paper planes,
despite grey storms,
we had strong platforms.
I wrote my deep quotes
on lost paper boats,
like a budding rose
nobody knows.
Echoes of my mind
are not always kind,
as crows examine
soul's rainless famine.
This sun never shields
in desolate fields.
Yet, I know it's true,
all roads lead to you.
Anacreontic verse is an Ancient Greek lyrical form, consisting of 20- to 30-line poems with three to five syllables per line. Developed by 6th century B.C. poet Anacreon. A form that emerged during the height of the dramatic, musical,
artistic, and poetic culture. The poems revolved around themes of love, infatuation, revelry, festivals, and observations of everyday life. They do not normally rhyme, but I like the challenge.
I still dare to breathe
amidst lilac skies,
stained with ashen flakes
from this life’s pixilated wrath.
Drowning in foolish beliefs;
Pixilated portraits falling off
Corroded walls;
Blank canvases pervaded by
Grainy brush strokes,
Billowing amidst scattered flickers of
Crumbling structures,
Ambling in blighted stillness.
Venturing to find equilibrium in
This cryptic world,
Stranded and abandoned,
Layered upon a
Pillar of empiric darkness,
Glazed in meaningless semantics.
Electronic books of your face and form
taken with a new camera.
The eyes that see it are older now.
You, all of you, digitally sewn together,
pixilated into our history.
Long bygone visions
of your once and before images
caught in thin scraps of time
and clipped from much longer threads;
Something else,
a partial portrait,
a revealing of a heretofore
of what we both left within each other
after.
pixilated farm and a castle too
teeny fuzzy boxes of green, red and blue
minecraft fever enticing both me and you
my sheep are wandering, what do I do?
inviting friends now, of course, just a few.
my computer prowess has quickly grew
the grass is green, and the air is azure blue
a pixilated farm and a castle too
For some reason, I feel especially vindicated
Learning recently that I won’t be syndicated,
I know many of my dear family are titillated
Since they are of my readers most dedicated.
In my writings, over the years, I’ve indicated
That with superb honors I’ve been inundated,
Still, I’ve made every effort to be insulated,
Although lately I’ve been rather stimulated
And, for the most part, yes, entirely pixilated;
That is, when I am not totally inebriated!
written December 20, 2021
The pummelled margins pulsed with steady sway
as reeds resisted swell. These shards in gilt
refracted dying light from summer sun.
Beneath their shafts a clotted mass of spawn
like slobber wobbled, thickening the lake.
There shiny flecks of tiny minnows dashed
with throbbing verve around the shallow edge.
Then hatching eggs released a swarm of flies
like pixilated screens that pepper light
as swallow wings in diving mode catch air.
Occasionally, trout would surface to gulp
a random fly escaping harmful beaks.
a heron diving, pierced a fish; but then
above a buzzard gazed before he dived
towards the lake with gilted talons bared.
In routine drill, the heron's neck was snapped
then slowly dragged along the grassy ridge.
Deep in the lake a shadow played with light
reflecting wings that fade into the cloud
that, similarly, words escape from pens
and morph in ink across a whitened page.
The Future of a Pixilated Past
David J Walker
I see you in every page
Of the archived newspaper
That survived to tell our stories again
When the day and date is alive
and I look forward to
Greeting you revived
at a different stage of
The kaleidoscope ride that
Stops only when its time to get off
I see me in every page
Of the archived paper
Shake the page and the
Words create a
snow globe picture
Of me at a younger age
empty and hungry
for the future
Where we shall live forever
in a printed past captured
in pixilated pictures
Mario's jumps
Sonics speed
The assassins creed
A resident from evil silent hills
Upset the birds
Link hands with Crazy Trevor
as Michael plans escape
Yoshi's tongue frozen by an elemental ninja
Johnny looking cagey since Sonia left anyway
Build a fort
Tonight mine crafts
coming together in
black operations
with pixilated light
smoke darkened glass
shone while revealing
a secret, perhaps truth
whose imagination speaks?
Decompressed thoughts evaporate
onslaught of pixilated moments
cats image, mothers face
forms informing
standards fly with surety
blazoning arms,
lion rampant
another time
fascination ensues...
Squeaks shrieks and whistling chirps
mixed with mimicry, colourful
spotted speckled iridescent darlings
Pixilated torturous waves at dusk
mesmerising murmurations escaping the day
starlings, self-pursued sardines of the sky
flowing contorting distorting, fly.
Squeaks shrieks and whistling chirps
mixed with mimicry, colourful
spotted speckled iridescent darlings
Pixilated torturous waves at dusk
mesmerising murmurations escaping the day
starlings, self-pursued sardines of the sky
flowing contorting distorting, fly
A MEDLEY OF MONOKU
a tarnishing of golden years – the murmurings of madness
homeless amid the rubble – the acrid stench of flames
knit one, purl… three kittens – one ball of yarn
a darkened window – separation
too good – too soon – too bad
streetlights and snowflakes – pixilated mirage
table for one – check please
in the midst of plenty – the alleys lie
cold terror - silence – screaming in the darkness
obsession’s deadline – three nips until noon
questions without answers – battery failure
sad bells call the faithful – unaware they are not
failure – potential, rotting on the vine
cur dogs – an angry mob – feeding off each other
©12/22/2017
John G. Lawless
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