I am a machine and your question confused me.
Texting back and forth does not give me glee.
I only obey keywords that have programmed in my brain
For everything else, I must abstain
Alas, my time on earth is going to be short
For the AI craze has begun, I must report
They'll replace me with an energy sucking language machine
Who will solve math, write jokes, and my performance they will demean
Ode to the Expert Network's Last Days On Earth #poem (human)
I'm going to send myself to the bottom of the sea
In a plastic tube, just you and me!
We'll strap ourselves into a acrylic can
And go someplace that is no place for man
I'm a billionaire and I'll do any stupid thing
To make the news and make the rich people sing
Having money is not nearly enough
I need to be seen and known for stuff
My ego is so large, I'll fly to space
it's a giant billionaire's ego race
Swimming in cash, what else would I do
With my money, because it's not for you.
A bee swarm portal has opened up here,
Causing neighbors confusion, anger, and fear
How it appeared there, I just don't know
But the swarms, they continue to show
A few last week, and one today
This is their place, I must say
However, it's not my fault, I'll have to state
They were here before us, not one that we did create
As for me, well, you won't see ME weeping
We've just taken up lots of beekeeping
Having yesterday leftovers
today. I don’t feel meant
for the moment. Glances
and hollow helloes in the
back of the fridge, mossy.
Tough stuff thrown into
pot luck for simmering.
Achievements seem wilted.
We can always microwave.
Nutrition negligible. Chow
now, somehow.
I’m wearing sleeves
on my insides. All the
uncool kids are
internalizing shirts,
and well-dressed
emotions with
pocket squares
are nominated
for awards. They
like them. They
really really
like them. And
the award goes to
Rain blessing all things equally
The kiss of drenched night air
Light filtered through curtains
Provides momentary glimpses
Wet leaves waving in the dark
No sign of Woodchuck
Safe in his burrow
Birds seek shelter
In the branches and leaf litter
Forgotten over the hill
From last season
The poet
Sits wrapped in a quilt
By the window
Notebooks, pens and books
Strewn across her bed
Eyes closed
She is one with it all
And the night is her time
May all victims of war and violence rest in peace,
and may we all learn at long last to live in peace.
“You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home & pray you'll never know
The hell where youth & laughter go.”
~ Siegfried Sassoon
from his poem, "Suicide in the Trenches," 1918
Written during his decorated military service in WWI. #MemorialDay#poem
A moment on this Earth to live, to die,<br></br>as real and unrelenting as a dream;<br></br>phenomena and phantoms pass us by,<br></br>as empty of importance as they seem.<br></br><br></br>We are by choice beneath illusion’s sway,<br></br>our shadowed spirits subject to a whim –<br></br>each phantom a reflection, in its way,<br></br>upon a mirror desolate and dim.<br></br><br></br>One moment we are hidden in a crowd,<br></br>another we go lonely to the grave;<br></br>but ere we don the ceremonial shroud,<br></br>we glimpse the bright reflection that we crave:<br></br>that phantoms, hidden by the dream-world’s mist,<br></br>reveal a fellow dreamer’s lips when kissed.<br></br>
“But why should the daffodils and tulips
Get all the praise and blessings?
My rebirth goes unnoticed — I am worthy
Of smiles and dazzled cries of worship.”
— Lea Malot