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Leeann Feb 2021
how wonderful
would it be
to be able to skin myself alive
to drop the weary leather that holds my bones together
and miss a few days, months
years
in the span of a night
Ken Pepiton Feb 2021
Longform, once more,
AI reminds us of the mission, message ladder
hierarchy of scatterbrained
heads of states and other corporations of mortal souls.

Honest, synchronic, my AI
just now told me there exists in the elsewhere space owned by
Microsoft share holders,

all that I have ever writ in this app
forms the edgeycloud of all my mortal knowns expanding,
and expanding
and expanding
until we are else ware,
or i am
after all of your if then swiches and wasted t's are reset,
don't judge my spell chick, she work for me.

And seeing the multitudes,
he went up into a mountain:
and when he was set,

he opened his mouth
"have you never read, "

What would a good Assisting Intelligence ask of you,
IF
you conditioned each response, --- dam,
stepfordwives usedtrojans ---

Pause, don't reboot tfs. (does that mean three finger salute?
No, ctr-alt-del means stop until I say go, tfs means abort.{ sorry}}
Softest bread is in the middle, thymusing, after learning so much about T-cell s
that they now have a clear voice  prejudging any heroic leap due to warlike reaction to my conditioning. I loved bayonet training at Ft. Bliss in July. That is some deep conditioning to remember from a T-cell'sPOV
Andrew Hartnett Nov 2020
I'd be broke
no doubt

no one knows about the internet in the 20's
so my programming skills wouldn't get me very far

I haven't read enough about historic sporting events
to make any money gambling

I wouldn't even know how to apply for a job
would I have to use a typewriter to type my resume?

I could start a moonshining business
but I wouldn't know where to get the moonshine

I could predict the future for a fee
but I would be limited to things that happen in the distant future

perhaps I could write a fictional novel of a dystopian future
and just write my memoir of everything I can remember
Astrea Nov 2020
Solitude,
they say, is the drifting glacier
amidst a rolling sea
against a faint yellowish light
at dusk over a particularly misty sky;
you see a white fish washed onshore —
quivering and pulsing,
then stilled.
A fleeting glimpse of the glowing dusk yesterday. It's a very serene, calming kind of color exclusive to the sky that no human touch can wish to reproduce.
Astrea Nov 2020
Dancing masks & faceless crowd,
bowing to the purple pink clouds &
silvery tears of yesterday's vow;
leaping lions & flying elephants
drunken on the sweet mead
& bread rolls when —

BANG!

quiet,
dying embers
kindling, black birds cooing
a mournful tune & dark smoke grinning
with a mocking hat — all smiles gone, musing
where the fire rings & laughing clowns have disappeared into —
the carnival downtown or through the bedroom window?

No, no — it must not be
but my fevered dream in this wild, lonely summer night.
I have always wanted to write something about a carnival frenzy type of poem ;))
Astrea Oct 2020
But what is eternity, if not
a whisper of frost,
landing softly
on the red lily’s lips —
the deadly flower on the other
side of the shore
spidery fangs, stretching claws
a breath away from
a beckoning memory
of our last parting
I am posting poems with pictures to better conjure the imagination in my poetic instagram account! You can find me in @xsummerblues if any of you are interested :)))
chang Aug 2020
Sleep calls from a distance
I turn; on a bed of yesterday's tears
and tomorrow's dreams.
The weight of their expectations
lies heavy like a nursing baby
on my chest.
I do not want it.
I'm afraid the bed is too small
for the both of us.
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