LLM AI psychosis,
some claim, breeds mental disorder;
but I write prompts that refocus
me and don't cross that thin border
between my psychic prognosis,
and OpenAI's new order.
When ChatGPT's sycophantic
AI begins to kiss your ass,
just be formal, nothing romantic,
too personal, or even crass.
Before too long, you won't be frantic
anymore as it'll run out of gas.
But if you know what you're doing,
prompt AI to write you a song,
perhaps about a fat cat mewing,
a face among a faceless throng,
or lyric poem in you now brewing,
which writes itself and won't go wrong?
everyone In town tries to lend a hand
but few hands are welcome
because grief is a private emotion
you have to go through it alone
they still try
being small town people
who want everyone to feel good
She decides to camouflage her emotions
until they return to their homes
this takes every ounce of her energy
but the refocus helps her in some ways
grief is a debilitating feeling
it takes a lot out of people
today it took her to the mat
I should have given up
I was volunteering twenty-eight hours a week in a middle school.
The secretary told me they decided to make it a paying position.
I had to write a six-page essay, and interview with three people.
For the job I had been doing for free for three months.
They chose another person.
I was devastated.
The principal called to say they had really appreciated me.
Hoped I would continue volunteering.
I would not.
I redirected my focus.
Decided to go back to school and become a school counselor.
I was already doing their job, I just was not paid for it.
Six weeks later they called to offer me the job I had applied for.
The other person had only lasted two weeks.
I told them I was glad I had not gotten it.
It made me refocus my energy into something new.
I had no more time to waste on these ingrates.
we plan our future
but have not added our broken leg
Bam!
Ouch!
Things change fast
We begin to heal
filled with optimism
We can still reach our goal
a temporary side road
we replan, replenish, rehearse
Refocus on our future
Car wreck!
What?
We’re hospitalized and helpless
Rehab takes a long time
Depression might set in
We are disabled, disillusioned and disheveled
Is there a glimmer of hope?
Can we continue our path?
Some of us cannot go on
These souls have not rallied, refreshed or regrouped.
Despair holds them down in the ditch of the side road
Most of us can continue
The luckiest ones find strength and stories in the side roads
Understanding that the goal is not the future,
The journey is the test
and the road we have travelled for a reason.
We are the optimists, and we do well
My mind is like a river,
And constantly it flows.
Something's always floating by,
Whether or not I want to know.
There is garbage and pollution,
Tossed in by what others say.
If I don't dodge them by refocus,
They can affect my day.
Accusations and false statements,
Just floating garbage in the stream.
Tossed in there by others words,
The ones that want to be mean.
O' boy here comes condemnation,
They are the big floating logs.
They always come, grouped more than one,
My thinking they want to clog.
And of course there's floating plastic,
Made of material like it's source!
I step aside so it can pass,
Because it comes with such force.
Lord, help me focus on You alone,
And not the garbage of man.
Help me to keep my river clean,
By focusing on your plan.
One day I'll gather at your river,
At the end of my life.
Where there's love, peace and unity,
And there will be no more strife.
A slow romping sound
bassey and engaging
a clear crisp rhythmic
groove.
Traditions developed
under the influence of
Modern Musiciceir
some who were past their prime
some who music neglected
some who were proud famous
with Phanez across the world!
These influencers
Smart and On time
using sounds that people
Love and sounds that people
will love.
" I love the rhythm
I love the song
but those
lyrics
needs ah changing around
making a story out of
the lyrics
might draw us to some
sort of troubling
refocus
and clarify
" Under Wooden Bridges"
the bassoons began to play
I introduced my flutist
to the bassoonist
and lett nature have it's way.
They will sort the strans to
exaserbate the exsisting tensions.
Floating lanterns of burning wishes dance
a flickering pulse of prosperity;
Hanging on to hope with such nuance
they glide on still water delightfully;
Remain peaceful in the throes of defeat,
let nothing ruffle the feathers of dreams;
Regroup and refocus on what’s concrete,
with that passion create artistic screams;
Reach for the core of what lies inside you,
when you hit roadblocks remain in motion;
Dare not flounder do what you need to do,
the secret to tangible? Is action;
Mirror the Khoom Fay with your demeanor,
Fate can’t resist a starry-eyed schemer.
Looking at the moonlit sky
I wonder how time flies
I wonder, why oh, why?
Or maybe your sight has fallen to the floor
Better refocus or you might trip more
But that's not my concern
You've always been your own worst enemy
Could never really see
The you I saw so very clearly
A lost boy always searching
Now a "man" always learning
I wish you nothing but the best
Our time has past, it was just a test
Now you must be you, better than the rest
The you I always knew you could be
Full moon my lovely, fill me with energy
My parched spirit longing to be renewed
The thoughts of you fill all my reveries
As I eagerly await for your appearance in glee
So let me refocus on who is really me
And never forget what I'm living here for
When darkness around is all that I see
May you light up the world and banish my enemies
Time and time they try to tear me down
I fall on my knees and tears wash over
But one day I'll be sitting on a throne with a crown
Moonstone glistening on bejeweled silver
So once again I give praises to thee
Who has guided me through the tragedies
Full moon moonlight cleansing over me
In thirty more days I will once again see
Like A Phoenix I Rise
By lady Arabella
Like a Phoenix in the ashes I rise above
With a heart full of kindness and love
Reborn from the pieces left broken
From the words that were left unspoken
But like a Phoenix I recuperate
In order to refocus and renovate
Even the strongest can combust and can go up in flames
There’s no need to feel shame
Instead learn the lesson it’s trying to teach
Read these words that are there to preach
And like a Phoenix rise from the ashes
Let your truth speak to the masses
Don’t hide behind the past and place blame
Just ensure you’re no longer the same
Like a Phoenix let yourself be re born again
Don’t dwell on you’re deign
Come back from it fiercer than ever
Ensure it’s ties you sever
Let it all go up in flames
Watch it burn as you fight to reclaim
Like a Phoenix learn to soar high and become reborn
It’s your time to be adorn
So rise and learn to fly above
Remember during this time the importance of self love
Like a Phoenix from the ashes, it’s time to start over
Remember this is your time for a changeover
Haiku refocus
the dalliance of the muse
into a moment
John G. Lawless
©6/9/2023
We started a new war, the hawks and I.
Let’s get some 747 with weapons up in the sky.
Our aces are ready to spit in the enemies’ eye.
Come on said Grandpa. It is do or die!
But gramps I argued, there is no world war three.
We need one he said, “forever a hawk I shall be.”
He showed me his guns and he gave me an odd tee-hee-hee.
His wife tried to refocus his direction with chamomile tea.
He has all the guys at the Legion Hall stirred up too.
She said to me, and I do not know what to do.
Grandma, I feel for you, I said. I have no advice for you.
The last thing I knew he had shot up the museum and the zoo.
Charlie, an old man was tired of being in this sideways world.
His friends and relatives had long been gone to other places.
He walked past them in his dreams, not seeing them.
They brought a dream ship and coaxed him to look up.
Focusing on disappointment, he kept his eyes to the ground
Friends tried to get his attention; they did their best.
They were optimistic that someday he would refocus.
Sending a cardinal which brought his attention to their rescue ship.
As he climbed onboard, everyone cheered, glad he was there!
A body built on nerves and signals.
So many little paper airplanes,
they fly from head to toe.
Expect when they get stuck in my hands and rattle.
Uncontrollable.
Flex and refocus,
they are gentle;
fragile.
They understand me
they want to be stronger, longer
a creative ache, I think.
My knees are weak,
they beg for sleep
but they are the screws and glue holding me still.
I’m sorry for what I put you through.
My feet are frustrated,
determined,
drained.
They train and train and train and train.
Surpassed their expectations,
healed without proper medication.
Yes they crave validation,
is that at the expense of ankle breaking discipline and dedication?
My hair
what a love hate engagement.
Every rope like curl, rips at my skull
it's gentle warmth drowns everyone out
and I can hide inside its walls.
It's safe.
As of now,
I've learned to listen to the aeroplanes;
I've learned to trust their sounds .
Dear Father YAH,
It's me again, your child, the sinner.
The love of my life is no longer around again.
When that love was present, oh how did I feel like a winner!
Now, it's back to the old drawing board again.
So vividly, I recall you saying, let your heart not be troubled.
I remember mentioning to my love, "You are the only one who can trouble my heart".
Now it is as, my mind easily becomes doubled.
I know this way ought not to be, but now, why is it so difficult to uphold my part.
I'm really feeling as one struggling with wretchedness.
I need to refocus; I need YOUR Help to remain set-apart.
ALAHYM, send YOUR Presence upon me that I may catch it.
For there is nothing else within this universe that will set still my heart...
Dear Father YAH.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.