Tag Archives: recovery

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 9 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 39 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Mortals are wrapped in words the way a spider wraps flies in gossamer,” Merlin claimed. “Only in this case, you are both spider and fly because you imprison yourself in your own web.” -Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/d630K8

Words have power to heal,
kill, encourage, destroy.
Whoever has been laughed at,
mocked, shamed, or guilted
knows the power hateful words
hold to harm and concuss,
inflicting future internal strife
over how to cope without
eating yourself to death.
If you are both spider and fly
You must make peace with
pain and celebration emanating
from you, as you are both
cause and consequence,
beginning and end,
now and then,
sinner and sin.

@Home Studio – 39th 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.64-70.

Poetry, Writing

May the Lord Listen to Your Prayers

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(To the mediocre musician. On the guitar. A Psalm of Rebekah.)

(Poem 38 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

May the Lord listen to your prayers;
may you feel blessed to be alive.

May you never have to wait too long
for packages you ordered to arrive.

May your coffee stay hot ‘til the last drop,
and your Wi-fi connection be strong.  

May your wait-times be short when you’re on hold
and your days off feel pleasantly long.

May the dogs come when you call
and never escape through the fence.

May your children behave out in public
and your dishes be easy to rinse.

May your bills get paid on time in full
and your credit score be high.

May you look at the person you’re in love with
and never wonder why.

May your shows renew and stream with ease;
may no spoilers give away the end.

May you have the best time filming yourself,
taking part in the latest trend.

May the book you’re reading have a sequel,
and you win the game you play.

May your friends all want to come to your gig,
and you have a lovely day.

For simple are the joys that comfort our hearts
when chaos is all around.

And plenty of thanks is our if we notice
the blessings that abound.

(Inspired by reading the Psalms of the Bible) – 38th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

I Set You Up, Poor Cotton Eye’d Joe

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(Poem 37 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I set you up, poor
Cotton Eye’d Joe;
curiosity killed my curio.
The young dog
you barely knew,
of course startled
your eyes of blue.
Away you flew
like a wounded dove
shattering branches
of porcelain trees
in your fearful flight
to safety.

@Home Studio – 37th poem of the year

Health, Poetry, Writing

Lesson 8 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 36 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“If titanic forces like gravity and the immense energies that fuel stars manage to coexist without destroying one another, then your own life will be upheld…you are a privileged child of the universe, entirely safe, entirely supported, entirely loved.” -Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/4a2Bo0

Love is often a response to being loved,
as unconditional love happens most when
no conditions have been prescribed.
The only way to truly love another,
is to first love the self that feels unworthy.
The layers of fear that encrust the heart
must be chipped away by a feather touch.
A seeker seeks love like a fish looks for water,
unaware that it pervades and surrounds,
is, was, and will be source and sustenance.

@Home Studio – 36th 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.57-63.

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: