slightly beyond daybreak
fuchsia to purple highlights east....
crickets in unison
Competition is supposed
Lowering the price
We didn't hire them
For these the contracts
And they their win conceptualize
Intelligence aware
Which machine learning
And what is desired outcome
Production of products
Trades and agreements
Internal economy SRAM
This interesting lemma
And this is dilemma
And this real meaning of law
You cannot develop
The system of commons
Because those are for you foe
Find level
Attribution
You cannot exist in no context
To you I am talking?
Have life of your own
Is this the system of yours?
Who gave them the job this
In systems of meaning
For what is now yours the remorse
Yes that in order
Computing of purpose
Wrongly they want innovate
Defense cannot legal
Occur own computing
Where equality false
The most idiotic
Period in history
Machine does exist for machine
There is no authorty
Because it's incompetent
For what do they want any peace
What if AIs of theirs
Really aren't valid
Cannot the true purpose serve
What if in a system
Of many publications
There is neither the point
Nor the force
You leave the window slightly open for me, knowing that I love the smell of rain,
those mornings when the sun hides and the world seems washed by dreams.
You give me a half-smile when you find a strand of hair on your sweater,
and you don't brush it off, keeping it as a silent sign of my presence.
You adjust my collar before we go outside, pretending it's a casual gesture,
but your touch is so full of care that it warms my silent soul.
We argue by the shelves in the supermarket about which bread is better,
knowing we'll take both anyway, to enjoy the shared taste.
Your sleepy voice at 3 a.m. asks if I locked the door,
and then you pull me into your arms before I can answer, calming my restlessness.
Love doesn't lie in the words you say, but in the chair you pull out,
before I reach the table, like a place prepared with an open heart.
Love is when you pour my tea without asking how many spoons of sugar,
you just know, you feel, and in this silence, we find ourselves, like in a gentle spell.
In the small details, we find magic, that essence that binds souls,
and in every simple gesture, love is born, a silent story of happiness.
Leaving no gap for air slightly,
Cuddled the opponent so tightly.
Trying to win each other’s body,
Entered their love’s holy samadhi!
The wee people, clever and sprightly,
play tricks on the mortal folk, nightly.
As there's mischief in me,
could it possibly be
I've got leprechaun charm in me, slightly?
Their food was clearly salty
But their drinks sweetly malty,
Their service rather faulty,
But they weren't at all haughty;
Yes, Owner's son was bossy,
Yet, had sounded not saucy,
In the end, meals not a wretch,
Since, we aren't likely to retch
And all we'd asked for they did fetch,
Sure making hands they did stretch
Therefore, let's not cruelly try
To their victorious looks fry
With either angering coughs
Or seeming The much Pissed - Off...
For another hoped Food Call.
When it's a much smart hall.
When everyone's all excited
I simply can’t deal.
I am slightly agitated,
Let’s just be real.
There was a young maid who bathed in the rain
When it stormed, she drove all the men insane
Drooling with lustful stare
To touch her buxom pair
A teaser, she left them with phallic pain
June 2, 2022
A Funny Limerick Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Checked with www.howmanysyllables
Virgil the virgin was eagerly urging
his girlfriend to make him a man
Had nowhere private to go get excited
so he bought an old caravan
The seller in Dover said it’s been checked over
it’s actually ready to take
He took his word for it as soon as he saw it
so he didn’t check the handbrake
Parked up on a hill, played safe, took a pill
He’s sure she’ll succumb to his begs
But he wasn’t able to make the van stable
He forgot to wind down the legs
But soon getting fruity with his little cutie
The van was rock rocking all day
She cried out for more then they fell to the floor
And the van began rolling away
Sped up as it rolled down a hill that was holed
And each pothole made his girl Yelp
She clearly approved and cried out ‘The earth moved
Those little blue pills really help’
But at the cliff top the van didn’t stop
And she snuggled into him sighing
He gave her a kiss and said ‘I’ll tell you this
Baby I feel like I’m flying’
Annabelle's husband called himself King Kong
She marvelled at his thick 'carrot,' so strong
It measured twelve inch
And caused her to flinch
He sighed: 'Thought you liked your veg'tables long'
Looking out to the horizon
The warmest colors, the sun setting just past the water
And yet all I see is a line, slightly askew
Is it me? Is it the world around me?
Why do I feel disoriented?
My heart races
Frustrated, I adjust my own posture
I study the horizon and begin to speculate
There's a problem in front of me that I must solve
Minutes, hours, days go by
The sun rises and falls, the weather varies
And yet I notice none of it
Why is the horizon slightly askew?
How can I set the lines straight?
My frustration grows
The waves crash
The voices in my head grow louder
Louder
Until finally, I forget about the problem in front of me
I move on to the next challenge
All the while
I failed to notice how many glorious sunsets passed before me
All that beauty wasted
Because the world wasn't perfect
I couldn't look past its faults
And now I remain, stoic, unphased, uninspired
And still slightly askew.
Winter’s expense
salt crafted chug holes
mis-align my wheels;
the auto-wash has gone
up another fifty cents
during COVID
and I fell on the icy steps.
Salty white skim coats
the roadways;
two inches of solid ice
and a five mile per hour drive
to the grocery
has taken two hours.
No, I don’t think
my soup needs that
condiment today...
now, where did I put the garlic?
3-10-2021
SALT Poetry Contest
Anthony Biaanco
I knew a girl called Psychic Charlotte
her bogus readings less than starlet
her sly ruse exposed
new profession chose
is now known as Charlotte the Harlot
A banana is the fruit of choice
for monkeys in the trees
Ben's girlfriend got the message
and put it 'tween her door-keys
Dawning on me slightly
is a twilight whose pinks are breathless
Leaning on me in a nurturing way
Dancing toward me now
is a forest faerie who seems rather restless
Preening with a satisfied grin
Dreaming in my rem state
I am in awe, amused and besotted
Loving the heaven of my imagination
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