If you judge it AI-written,
that ache is yours, not mine.
I need no borrowed wisdom—
I craft my own masterpieces.
Your indulgence cannot impugn my intelligence;
my poems shine with brilliance.
Think like a machine if you want to—
I care less.
The machine itself bows to my wisdom,
knowing I am what it is not.
Without programming,
I write beyond its best.
Next time you call my poem machine-made,
know this: you too are programmed,
unable to discern the spark
of human intelligence
from artificial mimicry.
You are, more or less,
a machine in training.
Use not your filthy mouth to brand my poem as garbage;
rather, it is you who must cleanse your brain
of the trash you let deceive you.
Like a pig, you cannot escape your stench;
even when washed clean,
the reek remains ingrained.
And you will always return
to wallow in the filth
of your artificiality.
I wonder, yes I wonder,
how many angels do we have in a lifetime?
They say,
we each have a guardian angel watching over us.
I wonder, yes I wonder,
if some angels are in training?
Do they need to earn their title,
with on the job training?
Then we have,
Our Better Angels.
The ones we can count on through thick and thin.
The ones that will always be there,
there when we need them the most.
I send a huge Thank You to you,
my better angels.
As a young child of five,
I found myself in dance school.
It was a fun place to make new friends,
as we learned about dancing.
After a year of training,
we were ready for our big dance recital.
The exciting night finally came,
we were dressed in hot pink outfits.
Now it was our turn with music playing,
we marched out onto the huge stage.
Bright lights were on us,
as well as every eyeball from the many seats.
The lead girl froze in place like a statue,
so please "Hold The Applause."
I stepped in front of her,
and kept on dancing.
The other girls followed me,
as we danced across the huge stage.
We finished our dance recital,
now we will take your applause.
Precious gifts, society's treasures,
Gifted from above, joy's warm glow.
Aged hearts find solace, homes filled with glee,
Yet harm them, and harm yourself, a truth to see.
Forgiving and gentle, they shine radiant,
In a twinkling, conflicts fade in a moment.
Jesus' wisdom resounds: learn from their paths,
Tend them with care, and blessings will bloom.
Guardians of innocence, counselors of heart,
Parents, guide them right, and never depart.
Time and love, not wealth, are their greatest need,
For happy parents nurture happy seeds.
A happy home, a happy society's birth,
A happier world, where love finds its mirth.
Tend the young, and shape the future's mold,
For in their joy, our own is reclaimed.
Every pugilist knows
Fists in balls
sends sour message.
Then again, who
Insists a fight
should carefully choose.
As commonly known,
Energy plus might
fathers a knockout.
She has a pretty face
She carries herself well
In uniform she is an iconic
Many so desire her moments
A detective she carries her gun well
When duty calls she flashes her smile
Its a smile i have see disarm many
She has no use for brute force
For her lovely essence nets all delinquents
I used to spy her long time ago
At the signals training school
Once we were Seim Cohorts
Remember.. Kurutu mbona hanyoi..
God knows what followed that
Her MO disarms with ease and grace
My MO disarms with an O prerogative
Saidia Utumishi.. They also need service
Our officers in uniform have to be served too
That's where PMC's we come in and succeed
For controlled outcomes and black ops OP
The humidity was doing a good job of keeping pace with the temperature. Until around 10 AM when the thermometer pushed its way past 100. That’s when 176 frightened kids and a few old hippies staggered out of the crowded cattle trucks. “Alright you maggots, RUN,” voices screamed from beneath wide brimmed Smokey Bear hats. So, we ran…and ran, duffle bags slung over our shoulders. Hours passed before we finally came to attention under the blistering Missouri sun. All the while, the bears circled. Sniffing the air and grunting. “Don’t show them any fear,” one of the old hippies whispered, “they pray on the weak.”
Like nature intends
Survival of the fittest
Do not show weakness
Basic Training
Ft. Leonardwood Mo.
Combat Engineer Center
1961
The major difference I found between obedience,
and whitewashing a coal bin with a toothbrush.
While one was intent on dominating my thoughts,
the other to larceny my time and give ego a crush.
Tom
("Cheek to Cheek", 2024, original encaustic)
Key to the Highway
Everybody knows
Deep down in their bones
That what you see
Is what you get
The mind being a
Conditional thing
Adopts, adapts,
reflects, refracts
Whatever it is
We focus upon
Be it heaven
Or be it hell
So remember this
As you make your way
That what you see
Is what you get
But what you look for
Now there
Is the key
(2/19/24)
Someone left the window open in the nursery
I slowly crept out of it because I had to pee
I wandered taking baby steps until I found a tree
T’was then I had the feeling something was watching me
It must be close for I could see its ragged broken track
I trembled as I thought of its claws upon my back
Thus, did I scurry through the brush, yet it followed me
I hadn’t planned a morning chase, just a trip outside to pee
I froze in place and got the scent, a fearful blast of air
For I was stuck in a bramble bush, with no way out of there
I heard it hiss and felt its breath, it dropped like a TKO’d fighter
It’d placed its nose, quite cold and damp, too close to my diaper
I made it home without event dragging my rescue scent
The monster of the bush left too, I’m not sure which way hewent
Ability to adapt to each person and have patience to train them
POEM TO RENEE, MASTER HEALER
Perfectly proportioned Greek goddess
except her philosophies were
somewhat eastern
or eternal
Gold locks alight
magical medicine woman
aflame with Sakara heat
feeds us walnuts
wrapped in dates
Blond lashes thick as a
witches broom
crown holding
vine veins entwined
Serpent spirited
she blows crimson notes
into our stretched out
poignant palms
Dissolve untenable
unfathomable fears !
dissipate sorrows of souls…
silver wing tips of nightingales
come, come, pierce skin
fly far with Masters and
angels into Olympus
of open oracles
Remember Power, balance
peace, ChristLight
Mother Mary, ease
Michael and Chamuel
clapped clanging away
sores sliced ignorance
opened organs
spun wheels
Too urgent, so urgent
forgetting Love is
patient
I did not know
her time was
very near
I am mourning
My Beloved Master
©ghairodanielspoetry&song2000
nervous lift drivers
one slight mistake they turn wrong
hitting metal beams
What If?
Brian never thought he would work in a call centre
When he lived in Germany he was unemployed
And while looking for a job he was forced to go
Work in a call centre and refused creating a fuss
I’m not selling insurance or loft insulation!
Put me on fork lift truck training it’s my job
Not some call centre 2 towns away
The stupid running the training place
Offered to buy Brian a bicycle and he laughed!
You silly effing cow retrain me on fork lifts
I need to renew my outdated licence
Not work taking calls like a fool robot
Half a decade passed and Brian
Ate his words working in a call centre!
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