I think, AI can fool the surface eye,
the sun of everyday common day --
the night of charming only twinkle glitter
night --
But, what it can’t fool~ is, complex
soul spectrum; what it can’t step away
from is, its own deceitful presence –
the blight of laziness -- felonious poetic
fixes.
Technology has its place and purpose --
let it not be, to dope one's own creative sense
of Fair-play.
God, perhaps, considering an AI earth --
populated with robotic integers, squiggles
of AI digital worth. Both heaven and hell
could be a lot smaller – an entire civilization
on one memory stick. Don’t be a shallowly
composing programmed dick.
I knew an old buffoon
quite the gloomy poltroon
who through a stormy monsoon
flew his hot air balloon
and among the Walloon
and Flemish
much to their surprise
did not meet his demise
but with neither a blot
not a jot
nor blemish
at all
on hand
in the small
6-Government
densely populated
parliamentary constitutional monarchy
3-language country of Belgium
safely did crash land
Once fishes, swift and swimmy,
populated seas, so many,
while birds, ever fast and flighty,
ruled the sky in numbers mighty.
Ask man if a sixth extinction's funny,
he with machines, guns, and money.
When did the world become so young
Every flight crew averages 22
My health care ‘professionals’ all do too
When did talking to people stop
Texting each other three feet away
Tiktoking your way through the day
Where did all the baseball diamonds go
Replaced by b-ball and pickleball courts
Populated by weird folks of all sorts
When did it become OK to swear
Little censorship anywhere
Females worse than males, I hear
Where this all ends I am not sure
One thing I know ~ none of it’s pure
You and me
Belongs in Gods world
He is the one
That have made us
In his imagine
We are very beautiful
To God
AIso he is the one that gave us
The gift of life
And life is very precious
We will not ruin our lives
By smoking cigarettes
If we do that
We will ruin our lungs
And we will die of lung cancer
Also we are not going to do that
Because we want to live a healthy life
Style
Also we made a promise to you God
That we will stay sober
Forever
We are not going to walk out
Of your life God
Because we know that is a wrong thing to do
God we hope that you will keep us
Alive every day
We finally got used to live on earth
And we know that the earth is our home
Yes the earth is also over populated
With lots of people
Also we know that they have the same right
To live on earth
Amor I Iove you
For everything you do for me
I am happy that
You are my amor
I could never imagine
Living without amor
We were made for each other
Amor
Also Amor it was our father that made us
With his holy hands
And placed us here on earth to live
Amor me and you live here on earth
And we just love to live on earth
Every single day
Yes amor the earth is our home
Also the earth is over populated amor
With lots of strange people
That is something we don't like at all
But also God made the strange people
And also the strange people have the right
To live on earth
The same way that we do
Amor we both have the same opinion
About things
Amor I Iove you
For everything you do for me
I am happy that
You are my amor
I could never imagine
Living without amor
We were made for each other
Amor
Also Amor it was our father that made
With his holy hands
And place us here on earth to live
Amor me and you live here on earth
And we just love to live on earth
Every single day
Yes amor the earth is our home
Also the earth is over populated amor
With lots of strange people
That is something we don't like at all
But also God made the strange people
And also the strange people have the right
To live on earth
The same way that we do
Amor we both have the same opinion
About things
a tale of trees
trees in the
forest of life
are populated
with leaves
Of secret lovers
and others
who have
tarried beneath
their shade
and their branches
have held hopes
Swinging high
and low
and their
trunks
have known
hugs
of screaming
joy
and weeping
sadness
whether clothed
in rainbow leaves
or naked
as guest skeletons
many have withstood
the aging
of vicissitudes
and clemencies
of weathering times
while other aged ones
uprooted
and parallel
to mother earth
likewise share
with her
barked secrets
only known
to them
and yahweh:-
there's something intrinsically poetic about lists…
1.
bread (wholemeal)
twelve eggs
solar panels
occasional frogs
corporate lawyers
steam
2.
onions (red)
tomatoes (finely chopped)
garlic (four cloves)
fireman's ladder (aluminium)
disparity (secretly hidden)
mildness (abundant)
gluttony (almost definite)
mozzarella (abridged)
3.
clean sink
dirty sink
point un-necessarily
wear wetsuit and carry surfboard in populated area
shirk responsibilities
vacuum dog
hide
reappear (nearly palindromic)
borrow an eagle
book car in to be painted yellow
buy a bucket
start new list
In the ultimate heaven true peace you'll find, when things of
This world are left behind, no lying tounge will you there
Bind, no false teaching, or drunkeness, unless; of Gods
Spirit in kind' no more theiving or idolatry or hate; no rage
No letchery at this improved life state.' Vistas of beauty
All around.' A place of no discord where love abounds.'
Now on hell, I'll cast some thought to you, its heavily populated
If what I hear is true?? Its incedibly hot.' Theres sulphur gas
And demonic wails to top the lot.' There can be no lying
Once your in.' And words are useless with all the din.' So
You'll find no false teaching..Well whats the sense? No idol
Can save you..Now no offence!! You can't get drunk in this
Punishment place' There can be no letchery, and you're held in
Place, your chains are darkness..Your thirst intense it
Will get you screaming..' So in a sense? There are similaritys with
Heaven and hell, he's a copier 'old satan.I i often hear tell.'
So its up to choice; from what i see, I think I'll call on Jesus
Oh yes.' its that boring Heaven for me, may it be!!
I could fill a bottle with air,
sunken by liquid depression.
A matter so densely populated.
by false hope and worthless thoughts.
I cower to my need to feel this way,
for this was the path I chose.
and this is the shoe I must eat.
God be damned, and I damned me.
So yes, I'll be having another,
and another, and another,
until the floor quakes.
under the pressure of shattered glass.
and the walls give in to my blows.
And F you for saying a word to stop me.
Don't you know who I am?
You are the son of Adam,
and I am the afterbirth, less than.
Earth can't decompose me.
because I don't deserve the mercy of death.
So, my heart will pump and my liver will fill
and this darkness will swallow me.
until I am nothing but matter.
enveloped by all things vile.
Leave me alone while I shiver.
Forget about me as I remember.
Go back toward the light,
for I will be forever lost.
The rain that showered us all evening had stopped.
although many drops were still clinging to the trees…
As I walked a few of those drops fell down on me
coaxed off their leaves by an early morning breeze.
The ever-shifting clouds seemed to be having fun
as they danced around the moon who is always happy to reflect the sun.
As I felt the wind against my face
and watched the sun-lit moon and clouds shimmy, shake and sway
I was reminded of this Native American blessing…
a wonderful way to start one’s day:
‘May you be strengthened by yesterday’s rain…
walk straight into tomorrow’s wind
and cherish each moment of the sun today.’
I believe we could have learned a great deal
from the indigenous cultures…if we had found a way
to get to know the people
who first populated this land…
If we had tried to comprehend their culture
If we had tried to understand.
Then today…instead of walking separately…
we could all be walking hand-in hand…as one…
respecting one another’s differences
while enjoying…the rain, the wind and the sun
Random in the house,
Juggled words were.
Asunder left you there were.
Mitochondria the nervous
Melon taken granted for.
Places in faraway away,
Discom-populated.
Story to tell.
In the story tell to.
Cry my heart
A Lord of Glory
Under a taken
Dark glimpse of God
I go.
A percentage of me has to hell been consigned
by the ever raging zionists' war machine.
To each livid soldier, a mandate is assigned
to uproot terror where multitudes are confined.
Torrents of explosives have swept my landscapes clean.
Churches, mosques, schools have all to mighty vengeance bowed.
Stricken mothers wail uncontrollably aloud.
Itinerancy pervades my horror stricken crowd,
whilst my kids toy with explosives, carnage and ruin.
Survivors will take shelter from snipers shooting
death balls and lead from peevish and portable guns.
Horror unprecedented the people outruns.
I have metamorphosed to nothing but a morgue.
Lice and bugs have infested hoodies lined with borg.
Disease and maimed limbs have no remedies in sight.
Let not the world be unmoved by my sorry plight.
Why must I this price pay for a thousand or more killed?
My morgues are beyond their capacity filled.
The deaths of innocents are nothing but unjust.
My once-populated streets have been turned into dust.
There were special places
where the mind could hide,
way up in the branches
of a tall tree, safe within
a ball of leaves,
halfway to heaven.
Or on a bike aimlessly riding
streets when the hypnotic
hum of tyres and the constant
rhythm broke through
and sent me
into a pleasant trance
as if the body was floating
free of the ground.
Then there were places
where you couldn't hide,
dark and musty hollows
they called holy places
populated with legions
of dead souls sniffling
their sorrows
in the candlelit air.
Dark cubicles carrying
the odor of sin,
the sour breath of absolution
filtering through
a curtained grill.
And all around, images
of pain plastered on walls
pressing a claim
for love under the threat
of everlasting fire
just for refusal.
It all sounds silly now,
the hellish props stacked away
in an unused corner
covered in ash.
Discarded remnants
of an ill informed past.
And yet at times, I am sure,
I can feel something small
still twitch on the end
of a severed nerve.
I call out. But nobody
seems to be there.
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