Profiles Poems | Examples

Artificial Intelligence is?

Where a series of 
					messages fly across
profiles inflated
					in balloons of
hot air.

Where a model with doctored skin
sells better cells to cover your acne,
where people 'blackout' Tuesday
and appropriate taking a knee.

Where truth is a golden ticket, impossible to find,
where 'likes' replace juries, and we forget to #bekind.
Where stories are created at the push of a key,
replacing where dreams and drafting used to be.

Where a voice called Alexa can order, suggest and locate,
but also listen and through silent algorithms manipulate.
Where faceless Gemini can offer names for your new-born,
an ironic namesake, a duplicitous invader on your own front lawn.

And most of the time 
                                     those ongoing anonymous 
messages simply
                                     ghost

I am sorry

I am sorry

if I did anything wrong
if I said anything wrong
but the disgusting
emotions are wrongs  (rights)

No need for evil beings
On bombastic profiles
Sneak persons, fakes
right the emotions

I am sorry, I can’t change
This is not my swamp
Swim in it, it’s your sauna
I want honesty, not a sneak

The Mores of Morays

Why would God give moray eels
A life wherein they live concealed
In a beautiful, bountiful, rapturous reef
Merely to cause the nearby fishes grief?
When the moon and stars shine deep at night
Giving profiles to fishes in background light,
The morays watch and wantonly wait
Until their prey cannot escape.

Are morays just spokes in God’s wild wheel?
Do moray’s consciences not guilt feel?
What is their purpose? What is their ploy?
Is it just to consume those they destroy?
Where is their justice? Where is their joy?
What gives morays the right to annoy
Nearby fishes and affect their fates 
While they wantonly lay in wait?

Why would God create such evil creatures
When others’ fates fear their cruel nature?
And why keep morays in ravishing reefs? 
Do these evil eels provide the reefs relief?
Is a mindless moray like an inane man
Who bends people’s mores when he can
To languish their lives and besmirch their souls
Just to achieve his iniquitous goals?

Shadows

Shadows  9-22-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shadows

Living in ethereal shadows of compassion,
In profiles of grace,
Mercy overshadows stumbling stones
Revealed in a lens of benevolent focus
To eclipse blisters of ebony shades 
With wispy balms of healing from raining penumbras,
No longer shadow boxing with bruising lacerations.

Shadows of grace pursue cutting eclipses
And wraps golden coronas of clarity
Around impenetrable guilt, treachery and betrayal,
Forgiveness foreshadowed in rising cumulous mists
Chasing cringing palls back into impotent hollows
Creating translucent patterns of favor
In delicate dews of lotus clour.

Ever present living pierced hands of agape,
In crimson shadow’s continual canticles,
Engulfs dark demon wraiths with pure mystery
And with silhouettes of the eternal Eden 
Reveals perpetual truth –
No shadow can with withstand
The incense of everlasting grace.

Ekphrasis Snapshot Archimboldo

fruit&vegetables-
seasoned profiles
in bold relief

A Gentleman

A Gentleman.

An elderly gentleman sits on his porch rocking in a chair,
 reminiscing the past and present times that really don't compare.

He fought for our freedom that today we all share, 
that others have trouble accepting and weren't even there. 

His life was not easy in his younger years,
and he worries today about the present-day fears.

He is proud of his family and the country he served,
but questions the greed and injustice that power has reserved. 

He has always viewed killing and destruction as an arrogant feat,
 that serves those conspiracy profiles that are willing to cheat.

His chair now empty, for he had since passed on,
 as a tear is shared for this gentleman now gone.

Respect our elderly for your time will come, sharing memories of your achievements and a few that were dumb.

Peter J. Hurst. From Nova Scotia.

Friend Request

Gloria, Gloria,
don’t mean to annoy ya;
you seem a voluptuous lass.
Glad that I met ya,
look up ‘metanoia’,
And so thanks, but that’s a hard pass.

----------

Strange phenomenon: profiles with  handle have been sending twitter friend requests - of course they are bots, I just wonder who adds these folks...

Birth of Dawn

Graceful like the morning birth, sunshine smiles
lifting doubts, healing every last heartbreak
bringing light, gentling so not to forsake
hope calms the weary soul as love beguiles
silencing grief, raining hope through exiles
prayers erase all the darkest trials
Graceful like the morning….

Pretty peace pours through the lovely profiles
Leaving wonders untold - the soul’s keepsake
Reflecting notes, pleasant songs we partake
In heaven’s realm, there are striking lifestyles
Graceful like the morning….




Rousing Rondine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser 
November 8, 2022

The Inquisitor

Beyond six feet of distance 
and seven heavens of this pull of woods, 
I draw intensities of sounds and words to placements,
Calling me beyond the territories of these leaves.
My soul sought profiles of its songs 
While its proud emission and enthusiastic incision jingle,
In fields of consciousness, beyond access to semantics,
Submerging me 
in the author’s trance of phrasal phenomena; 
Telling me, “focus!” 
amidst mortal icebergs and immortal tides, 
Saturating undiluted pinnacles, 
on paths leading home 
from the author’s elements of creativity and  
Symbolism’s narration, 
by a series of innovative intonations, I have employed it. 
Yet, I am on volume one.

Breathe In the Light

In the scheme of things known, I
traverse the unknowns. Everything is
somewhere waiting to be felt,
wherever you go------there you are.
The moon, the stars, universal places.
Playful bays of islands forever now
reveal solid profiles of homemade
solitudes. The temperature of you and 
I, a cluster of one on interstellar 
overdrive, a mosaic of loss of words,
marooned on a final cut above-
fearless sheep coming back to life
donning shapeless echoes of young lust
tunnel visions. The Mother of us all.
Have a cigar?
Wish you were here.

A Hurrying Against An Inspection

A means was hurriedly devised
To have their profiles revised,
A great deal improvised
And staff strictly supervised…

Also, a means to be apprised
Of Interview questions not surmised,
To have them earlier analyzed
For  minds to be better advised…

And what it should cost summarized
To have the inspector’s toilet standardized,
His official car customized
And reserved fruits liquidized!

All ahead of his notified inspections
With staff-dropping intentions.

A Butterfly Mind

charismatically gifted
 in  conceptual leaps 
  expressions
opening 
          a doorway 
to destiny

moments in time 
           stumato,
from a butterfly mind

 scattered 
with unfinished masterpieces 
of imagination 

 drawings chalked& charcoaled 
with tonal modulation
the inner person
 portrayed 
face on
    in ambivalence
profiles turned to the light
 display emotional depth
through the genius
 of genuflection 
       with touch & sensibility

People I Have Met

I have met a lot of people in my life
some are profiles on the internet
others are names in books,
others are pictures on television
others live in paintings 
some I read in obituaries they were a picture in a magazine
some were names mentioned by papa in  the stories 
others we were born in the same house
others we grew in the same house
others came with that house
some we live within the same neighborhood
and others live on the street
They always remind me to buy them tea 
some we went to the same school
some I met at work 
these are too many people to remember 
yet I hear there are another 7 billion 
who can make other people 
they all live the same story 
all wake up, all sleep
like the same things 
fighting the same wars 
dying the same deaths 
by this measure
as the camel driver told Santiago
Our life stories and the history of the world
are all written on the same sand

Cosmic Masquerade

Starry night sky above

--- starry night sky below ---

reflected in a restless sea:

twin nocturnal profiles face off,

touch nose to nose

--- share stars for eyes ---

the wind that meets the water.


Floating in darkness

the silvery moon rises -

intriguingly, inscrutably

--- dark side, light side

hidden from each other,

man in the moon ghastly.

Baleful lunar eyes hover,

looming mirrored,

awash in inky waves.


Glorious morning yawns.

Hidden somewhere in the firmament

she waits, and she waits some more,

leaning against the wings.

Beguilingly draped, she anticipates -

her next sweeping entrance.


...

All Creation

--- benign yet indifferent ---

gathers Her own,

draws them ever closer,

--- finely tuned, outrageously only approximate --- ,

the union of yin and yang.


Both tumble along as one,

--- celestial dice rolling ---

swept bobbing w/ the tide,

transcendence disguised,

transcendence revealed.

Strong Opponents To Beat

Strong opponents to beat,
A dozen of them, at the very least;
Their profiles on ‘Great Champions’ Sheet,
Each claimant to some dreary feat,
One of them, you dare not even greet,
Because he could you still make a mincemeat,
If he a chance picked and it was damned neat!
Out of your body squeeze clammy heat
And a ravaged one toss into a field of wheat.

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