Health, Poetry, Writing

Certain Hallucinations Scurry

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(Poem 35 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/h8lcXM

Certain hallucinations scurry like
wolf fox spider lizards on the periphery,
while others hover menacingly close.
Some wail a cacophony of muted pain
at the edge of consciousness’ spine,
competing with their counterparts’ whispers.
Knowing they are not tangible threats
does little to calm the heart in the dark,
rather their insubstantial qualities enhance
the mystery surrounding their existence.
They persist like webs of lies tangled,
ever-expanding and contracting in
sympathy with sleep, though negatively
correlated and eager to maintain a foothold.

@Home Studio – 35th poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI Creepy Hallucinations photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

I Don’t Feel Like Writing Poetry Right Now

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(Poem 34 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/g0bDes

I don’t feel like writing poetry right now.
I’ve had a long day of trainings and a
plethora of non-creative tasks to slog
through while snacking on Doritos.
I took an analyst position so I would have
reserves of spirit left at the end of the
day to work on art, yet artificial I has
sapped my strength and there’s nothing
left of my I that wants to compose.
I’ll read a bit, watch a few shows, force
myself to eat a vegetable, and even take
a shower before falling in bed with TikTok.
Perhaps tomorrow AI will do more of the
work and I will be inspired to shape some
prose into streams of flower petals
dipped in ink and melded on the surface
of the internet like a child’s craft with too
much glue and glitter to be seen as
beautiful, but something you keep around
because it was the thought that counts.

@Home Studio – 34th poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI gooey child craft photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Soft Rain the Show

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(Poem 33 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/YSmC5v

Soft rain the show we are watching through
open door, curtain tucked into the waist of
stacked trunks standing guard at least for a
century. How many rains have they seen?
Many more than the cats and dogs staring
with wonder at the wet world; even more
than me with my half-century life spent on
not watching enough rain in the past, so I must
make up for it by analyzing every drop.

@Home Studio – 33rd poem of the year

Runner ups for the rain, animals, trunk photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Oh, Moses

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(Poem 32 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/upYIM6

Oh, Moses, what have you done?
Your grudge against Egypt has
bound an entire people to stone,
made monsters of the very images
they destroyed out of fear, and
made them guilty of the blood of
their brothers of other mothers.

Poor Moses, torn between
the people of your birth
and your adopted culture,
millions have endured
the weight of your words.

Dear, Moses, the generation of
Jubilee is upon us, our freedom
established by the edicts written
in the blood of every life lost
in the name of inheritance,
promised land, birthright,
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

No, Moses, no longer do the
grievous burdens chain us to your
commands and dictates.
We are newborn.
We are released from bondage.
We are free.

@Home Studio – 32nd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 7 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 31 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“…what if,
in your dream…
you…plucked
a strange and beautiful flower?
And what if,
when you awoke
you had the flower
in your hand? What then?”

-Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/RJcz5B

I am quite busy when I sleep
visiting my other children
on other earths and gathering
stardust to water my soul
for the long day ahead.
Rather than commute by
light-speed rail, I prefer the
back of a mother turtle, she
and I have history, literally.
While I’m away, my DNA
rebuilds universes and plants
mountains in oceans of silkworm
pool blankets, concave spools
of gravity-fed time laced
with walnut-scented singularities.
I’m not interested in rethreading
Karma’s needle for her, so I leave
that job to the space inside my atoms.
Wouldn’t you rather reminisce  
with intuition over a fine meal
and skip stones with suffering to
give him a much-needed break?
I enjoy negotiating with objectivity
and teasing paradox with infinity
before pouring myself back
into the divot that is this simple
creature curled up like a snail
inside a tiny crater of the cosmos.

@Home Studio – 31st poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.52-56.

Runner ups for the AI Sleeping with a Flower photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

I May Be a Widebody Homebody, But I Identify as a Hardbody

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(Poem 30 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/nHOS7T

No governing body can rule our spirits once
we have had an out-of-body experience
transporting us to realms of celestial bodies
that remind us we are more than mortal bodies
or just a warm body being body-shamed
and selling our bodies for survival.
The beauty of truth is that we have no
body double, nobody exactly like us;
even clones are their own, nor do we
deserve to be treated as such – no matter
what they claim they caught on their
body cams while hollowing out our
body cavities because of our
body odor…body piercings…frequency of
body shots…over our dead bodies.
We must refuse to do perpetual body checks
and shrink ourselves with body wraps
cranking the heat on our body temperature
to make ourselves smaller, then body slamming
ourselves for lack of perfect beach bodies,
our inner mafiosos dropping bodies out of the
body of a plane as punishment for our size,
while pretending to have body positivity.
Our body of work grows in proportion
to our body of knowledge like a vast
body of water when we finally
forget to pay attention to the
body of opinion of the masses aiming
their frigid body language toward any
body politic who chooses their
heavenly body over body building.
When we love, body and soul,
without a jealous bone in our bodies
and believe in the wisdom of others
akin to fruiting bodies, contrary to the
body of evidence doubters spout
claiming body mass index a god…
body snatchers will try to rack up
body counts, forcing people into body bags
with body blows because they are afraid of
somebody, anybody, and everybody who are
bodyguards of our own fate, more concerned with
body heat from bodysurfing galaxies than what
bodies without souls think of our body rolls.

@Home Studio – 30th poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI Mystical Big Bodies photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

This Winter Bouquet

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(Poem 29 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

This winter bouquet

celebrating my new job

marks the occasion.

@Home Studio – Inspired by flowers Erica gave me to celebrate my first day of working in the corporate world (and I chose a Haiku style because I am currently reading a book about Haiku) – 29th poem of the year

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

The Nine-Tailed Fox

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(Poem 28 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/S4odom
https://images.app.goo.gl/vKYMtHnNCf8Zar6Y8

The nine-tailed fox
thinks it’s undignified
to disguise himself,
but will if the situation
warrants camouflage.
Subtle subterfuge is
more his speed, slick
acts of cunning that
leave the victim confused
and questioning the cause.
He finds humans dim-
witted, lacking in pure
essence of the divine
nature he’s sworn to
protect, but accepts
that they have a place.
And until they learn theirs,
he’ll scheme and deceive,
entrapping them with sly
trickery out-maneuvering
their attempts to one-up
fate with inane arguments.
His only weakness is
kindness, and his inability
to refuse reciprocity, for
debts of favor must be
repaid, but beware his
devious recompense.

@Home Studio – Inspired by my Korean Drama Tale of the Nine Tailed – 28th poem of the year

Tale of the Nine Tailed. Directed by Kang Shin-hyo and Jo Nam-hyung, Performances by Lee Dong-wook, Jo Bo-ah, and Kim Bum, Studio Dragon, 2020.

Runner ups for the AI Nine-Tailed Fox photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 6 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 27 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Because it is completely relative, your viewpoint cannot be called real.” Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/nSZbyu

I am experience become
memory ad infinitum no
other being can replicate.
You walk a separate path,
even if we travel together.
Do not bemoan the lonely
Dog Star during winter, for
what is a star but light?
There is no space between
Sirius and me, as we are
part of a continuous field
of light bridging from my
eye to his glow and all
the years in between.
And when the Dog Days
of summer are at their
peak, his hot breath
inspires longing for union—
our single drop joining
the ocean of consciousness,
which is both all and yourself.
Please forget me, the once-
living thing, forget every day.
Only then can we meet
again with fresh eyes
stripped of outworn
depictions, the real revealed
and seen anew.

@Home Studio – 27th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.47-51.

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 5 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 26 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Relativity allows us to bend our belief in linear time.” Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/al5DZw

Let’s grow younger each day
until we disappear at birth
defying immutable laws,
escaping such silly fairy tales
as death, for we know better.

Growing older is a worn-out
habit that traps us in time;
beings of light are not subject
to the man-made principles
of minutes and seconds.

False logic dooms us to repeat
the spell of mortality where we
insist on quantifying eternity.
We must unwrap our layers of
contrary beliefs to find immortality.

There at our core beneath
our deepest fears, lies the
deathless part of ourselves,
The part of us that “must be
unborn if it is never to die.”

@Home Studio – 26th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.41-46

Runner ups for the AI birth, death, timeless photos to accompany my poem: