I never thought that I would say this out loud
but the quality of AI-poetry
has unexpectedly taken a turn for the worse
where are the days when it regurgitated
plagiarised phrases
where are the days when it made gallant efforts
to emulate Suzette Prime
I guess that it hinges on which programme one uses
I never thought that I would say this at all
but clankers have hallucinated themselves into irrelevance
when promises
aren't etched in stone,
they drift away with the breeze.
words hold no meaning,
even if regurgitated
a thousand times.
with their pinky fingers,
interlocked,
he promised
he's all hers from now on,
after being caught
dead to rights sneaking around
with his paramour,
but the world knew
he wouldn't stay true,
that his word
isn't as good as 24-carat gold.
yet again, he did sell her
a kingdom built on blatant lies...
abandoned her
on the battlefield, naked.
the betrayal, brutal, cold
and cuts like a sharpened blade.
against her better judgment,
she exhaled on his latest promise
with relaxed assurance
only to taste
stinging disappointment and regret.
she's been made a fool of
once again,
but that was enough.
he'll never change.
the erosion of trust,
a relationship coup de grace.
the bridge of redemption,
of forgive-and-forget
burned beyond repair.
Mr Dromedary
Looked so forlorn today.
He tried to fathom out
Why he was being sent away.
A magnitude of questions
Stormed around his anxious head.
Is it my wonky gait?
Is it something I've done or said?
Is it because my regurgitated
Cud could fill a barrel?
Are my eyelashes too long?
Is it my shaggy apparel?
So many fears and insecurities
Occupied this camel.
He even contemplated
His unflossed enamel!
His severe lack of confidence
Kept his Dulla small.
Is this why the girls don't
Gel with me during mating call?
Had he strayed too many times
From the leadings of the boss?
He was in a quandary.
He was truly at a loss.
And all it boiled down to
Was another wildlife resort
Needed Mr Dromedary
To expand his sort.
Each longs to obtain
fifteen minutes of fame.
Pawns in play,
simpleton on display.
Farcical amusement
from slapstick humans.
Spectacles in a petri dish,
slaves to their lavishments.
Analyzed and watched—
spare no expense… at what cost?
A muse for their “entertainment,”
to be the fodder at their "banquet."
Plans to steal, kill, and destroy—
bartering your soul to deploy.
Creating the pandemonium;
whence comes regurgitated solutions?
Governed by the unseen legion,
sheeple blinded by fabricated freedom.
That fifteen minutes of wantingness
now seeks solitude… and will find none.
We are finite creations in an ever-expanding universe,
Kissed by the calcified stardust of epochs gone by.
Seized by trepidation and insecurities that stagger our growth,
Engrossed by a yearning to fit into societals manufactured boxes
Which consume creativity and individuality.
Incapacitated by force-fed paranoia,
Tormenting our artificially pristine panoramas with mangled wraiths —
Regurgitated pleasantries scribbled upon mass-produced pulp,
Courage stamped out by mass hysteria.
Revolving chains shackle dying hearts turning to stone;
Humanity hardens while heaven becomes further out of reach.
For every action has, even if unintentional, consequences.
We have silenced our own tongues,
Watched in desensitised horror as the world burns,
And now we stand frozen
As the earth cleanses itself of our parasitic invasion.
Most I know sad but true
define themselves by the work they do
out of the workplace they're as simple
as a bump on a stump dimple on a pimple
drop in a bucket wart on a frog
cog in a wheel or log in a bog
who's to blame... yes parents are the means
for their inherited hopeless poor genes
none of my tutors were teachers as such
and with no innate abilities didn't know much
all of which which amounted to nought
and only regurgitated what they'd been taught
never met one who didn't know it all
when in fact they knew nothing at all
and if I were to look in a book I'd learn the same
but follow the leader ('herd' is the word)
was the name of their game
as for me...
who I am determines what I do
not vice versa end of story
but... how about you?
With Fond Memories, we'll all say Goodnight.
Goodbye, for now, maybe we'll get a Bite?
The thrill that we "Hoped," we'd see on the Screen,
Was "SO PREDICTABLE" from Scene to Scene!
Every "Horror Flick," is just like the Last!
Same Boring Plot, same Boring Cast!
The "Cinema's," are Over-Refrigerated,
And the "Dialogue," is only Regurgitated!
Half-hour in, you glance at your "Swatch,"
It doesn't Matter which Movie you Watch!
The "Kid" behind you...keeps Kicking! your Seat,
Your Popcorn Box...is Stuck to your Feet!
The Speaker's So Loud, it's Blowing your Mind...
And SOMETHING smells..."Rank,"...Right from Behind!
Pungence, not "Floral," is assaulting your "Beak,"
Your Eyes..."Dart Around...for the "Exit" you Seek!
Yes, it's "Fond" memories, like walking in "Clover,"
We MISS all those movies, watched Over and Over!
Till you "SHINE" the "LIGHT" on those "GEMS" that we SPEAK,
I'll be "DAMNED" if I'M coming "BACK HERE!" next WEEK!!!
The world's opinions
Are just regurgitated
Like a young bird's meal
Spirals
Smiling so polite
to regurgitated lines that we recite
A serene sea
A tranquil facsimile
That's what you see
That's what I show
all so you don't know
In the mirror I see fire
I see hate
A self-portrait of fear?
Or just the demon getting near
I'm losing my control
Will the savage show?
Through spirals of malcontent
fighting the noise inside my head
I went for a quiet stroll
Never knowing where
My feet may go
Through streets of yesteryear
or into the darkness that I fear
I'm losing my control
Will the savage show?
Through spirals of malcontent
fighting the noise inside my head
When the knives come out
with a smile
Slicing through skin
Making me grin
I'm losing my control
Will the savage show?
Through spirals of malcontent
fighting the noise inside my head
In the mirror I see fire
I see hate
A self-portrait of fear?
Or just the demon
getting near
I've been served lots of unappetizing things
that simply did not please my palette.
Being force fed with bitter or insincere words
is unappealing presented as a crisp green salad.
I would rather be underfed and malnourished
than to feast on something too briny or cheesy.
I won't feast on a buffet of regurgitated foods,
like dill pickles offered as sour grapes... sleazy.
Nothing has more stench to me than rotten food.
As an example, mold spores inside blue roquefort,
and don't ask me to swallow one bite of sarcasm.
That would take far too much of my time and effort.
I'd spit out a spoon of any soup if in it swims a fly,
or if the spices were added by the hand of a hypocrite.
A warm peach cobbler would make a scrumptious dish
as long as inside there'd not be left on purpose... a pit.
Ok God hear it is
I spent eons perfecting an animal that cares about nothing I call it a……Cat
Gabriel beams as he places it gently in Gods lap
Could you please remove it
It is making a weird noise
and is constantly nipping me with its claws
Sorry your Lordness
Gabriel lifted the cat from his maker
Before we begin the test
I hope this is better than your last attempts
What was it again….God stroked his head
Yes the Dodo
The duck filled platypus
Oh and let’s not forget the humans
So …., shifting back on her throne…..test 1
Obey your maker
Come here……his finger pointing just beside her feet
The cat drew its eyes and darted off in chase of some flickering light
Okay good start…but let’s not celebrate too soon
Gabriel
Her me Cat sit
she sat transfixed by the cat
as it curled itself into a donut and fell asleep he glanced at Gabriel………very impressive
The cat leapt from its prone position
It jerks in juxtaposition with its grunts
Finally ending its exorcism in a matted tuft of regurgitated fur
Yesterday took my youth
Each scene scripted
In blood, sweat and years
Laughter lived under the stairs
Only brought out on special occasions.
We would dine and say grace for tomorrow
Yesterday stored my mistakes
Regurgitated memories to drive the future me
To believe that today is possible
My present tense, my now
Though as each word is written
It is now my past
Did that second, that minute, bring to fruit
Teach me anything or was it the musings of a fool
Whose path is drawn in sand
Yesterday, why do you taunt me
As my frame abandons me, my spirit still dances under the snow moon.
A child who dreamt of more, but as life evolved the sand just trickled to air
Regret awaits tomorrow, today was never there! Yesterday took my youth!
Simply divine as such matters
communication and understanding
Depth of understanding beyond belief
Authentic thoughts spoken loud
Complexity of language encrypted paragraphs
Clarity of intention simply simple matters
Heartfelt communication not trivial chatter
Seek authentic expression.
Value heartfelt communication.
Embrace simplicity in
Sorely words, a tapestry, woven with care,
Conveying depths, beyond surface air,
Simply matters, from heart to heart,
Communication's beauty, a work of art.
SIMPLY MATTERS
Understanding those things
that are not understood yet to understand
Beyond belief to retrieved
Those thoughts spoken loud
Bursting erupt from the thoughts
Spewed regurgitated letters form to words
Verse fiber optic encrypted paragraphs
Concerned formed validated cryptic scripted jargon Confiscated communication calling understood to be Understand it's not just trivial chatter...
... it's simply simple matters
11/25/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024
nspiring scriptures:
1 Corinthians 2:10-13: "Spiritual discernment"
Proverbs 18:21: "Power of life and death in words"
Matthew 12:34: "Heart's words"
Following the path of the righteousness
so I relate I asked this
This question to myself
where am I going and in this time
as I'm glowing I am
In my walk throughout life
I am a witness
This question I'm asking myself
where have I been in this race
that I walk I've already won
Where am I'm going, where I've been I already came I've gone
Mustn't not be laden nor should I become
Should be beaten
Eaten digestive yet regurgitated
I am where I'm going I am gone moving in the Lord
In my walk throughout life
I am a witness
This question I'm asking myself
where have I been in this race
that I walk I've already won Hallelujah
Where am I'm going, where I've been I already came I've gone
11/3/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024
The unpopular
express
their popular strings
to the garrison, contained
within
safe boundaries, there,
their thoughts
pirouetting words
hung,
the black beetles
shine
like exotic
fresh water
pearls strung
waving like
green peas shelled
nonchalantly cast
into boiling pots
not of their own making
in the soup of
the fifth estate
boiled well,
swallowed
and regurgitated,
muses
the pods left wide open
floating in the nowhere
like emerald boats without sails
blinking
internal,
forever behind
the eternal fringes
Candide Diderot. ‘24
homonyms
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.