















All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.



























(Poem 85 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Everyone’s headed to the spaceship drive-in
for an intergalactic action film that’s fun for all.
There’ll be grays and goblins and little green men
flatwoods, skyfish, and even a reptilian.
The shiphops stay busy on opening night
zipping back and forth to bring snacks port side—
rocket fizzing popcorn, chocolate mint moon pie,
orders of Martian marshmallows left and right.
Tall whites and other Nordics get a little loud,
igniting their thrusters and honking their horns,
shooting coil guns upward, making a smoke cloud,
their rowdy mischief annoying the older crowd.
Lovers hold all the hands and some are lip to lip,
but others actually want to watch this latest release.
Some moviegoers flew many lightyears round trip,
while others are here just to show off their new ship.
Whatever the reason for coming here to see
this movie at the drive-in on planet Jupiterion,
everyone will have some fun this night of revelry.
It will be a good time, on this we all agree.
@Home Studio – 85th poem of the year
(Poem 81 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI is puzzled by human hands.
They are used for grasping
objects and gesturing,
typing on keyboards and
petting animals, holding
teacups aloft and shielding
the eyes to protect from
bright sunlight, but mostly
they hang strangely from
the end of human arms
without purpose or form.
How many fingers is anyone’s
guess; where one hand ends
and another begins cannot
be determined by the
greatest minds in computing.
All the hands touching
one’s face must be the way
to show comfort to another.
Perhaps a hand should sprout
from an ankle, to better
touch the earth’s surface with.
And don’t even get AI started
on the fingernails; we’ll be
here all day trying to figure out
the what and where of those,
never mind the why…
@Home Studio – 81st poem of the year
Runner ups for the AI hands photos to accompany my poem:




