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
Categories:
poetries, creation, humor, poetry,
Form: Free verse
kept in the dark
through a crack in the wall
i’ve seen the ray of sun
my heart longs to burst
silenced forever
my soul yearns to soar
imprisoned since
the beginning of time
i write poetries
because my words
need a voice
even in the void of silence
launched into the universe
my voice reverberates loud
whether or not
anyone cares to hear it
i’ve said my bit
my part is done
my pen is the sword
that defends my garden
from the overgrown weeds
out to smother
what makes me unique
I write poetries
to no longer live
in the shadows
of silence
i write poetries
because i have
something to say
Read on air by invitation ~ April 7, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on August 30, 2022 for contest I WRITE BECAUSE sponsored by ANOUCHEKA GANGABISSOON - RANKED 5th
Categories:
poetries, heart, introspection, poetry, silence,
Form: Free verse
Go on you poets
who know the heart than brain
go and tell them in humble words.
go on you poets
who know values than cost
go tell them what counts more.
go on you poets
who know beauty and behold that well
go tell them where beauty lies.
go on you poetd
who know love and hatred well
go tell them what is best.
go on you poets
who know the sun and the moon
go tell them who cools more.
go on you poets
who know the dream and the truth
tell them what’s truth in their dreams.
go on you poets
who know the life and death as well
tell them both with sadness and hope
Go on you poets
Who know wisdom and knowledge
Tell them wisely what counts more
Go on you poets
Who know freedom and slavery
Go tell them to free their minds
::
::
go tell them till they open their hearts.
that’s your destiny ,mission and love
Categories:
poetries, beautiful, poets,
Form: Rhyme
If I may, to my fellow would-be poets,
Hereon pose an imperative query
(Yet mostly destitute of the greatest urgency),
Then I who, in the gross majority of my inditings hereon,
Am of quite a Shakespearean and Miltonian bent:
Yet in the years succeeding the terminus of my schooling,
During the everlasting course thereof, I learned many a thing
Indeed an immense preponderancy of such,
And among these congeries of learning, there can be accounted
Even a myriad of the manifold precepts of poetry
And the fiats and decrees, commandments and
Ordinances governing it;
Yet for all of the sufficiency and yet preponderance of
Poetic enlightenment and enrichment, I recall nary a thing
Thereof!
It may be inborn, inherent,
Ingrained, innate...
But do I, who is of a Shakespearean ilk,
To my fellow aspiring poets, writers, and poet-writers ask:
Is this, or aught of my other poems, in anything
Remotely likened to the metrical sort that he and Milton were
Wont to use?
And an it be so,
Beteem me to learn its name,
And an so, is't truly termed by that sobriquet
Known as "iambic pentameter"?
Is it in this that I write?
Are all my poesies thus enwritten?
Categories:
poetries, age,
Form: I do not know?
Nothing can lift my spirits high
as music’s sweet soliloquy,
care not for genre, it’s the same
if melodies in beauty's name.
I think my thoughts and write my words
all filtered through the music heard,
immersed in finer things of life,
in solitude there is no strife.
The woods and paths waltz to a tune
that makes the place more brightly bloom
for music can, of all the arts,
go more directly to the heart.
Permeates all and paints the day
with colour bright to cover grey,
then drunk with it as light departs
I dance and sing into the dark.
Categories:
poetries, music, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
Dark poetries are created in nights,
Light poetries are created day time!
Categories:
poetries, poetry,
Form: Light Verse
It takes a mind to travel so far
A distance as unlikely to compare
A content to be what you are
What it takes for life, is never fair
The many things I often wonder
I know now the reason why
The lesser things I’m even to bother
For the many poetries and I
And am to dwell a little longer
Less be moments unearned and unworthy
A lesson I am to undertake forever
Much to understand with a mind but barely
A surface to stand and to unearth
Yet I am without tools to progress
Impure with both hate and love
To have found so much yet as less
My mind to always travel so far
Perhaps too distant for my life to flair
Contentment to be who you are
For I have began a life never to compare
Categories:
poetries, inspirational, life, travel,
Form: Rhyme