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Tonight, I lie in bed and
scribble in a black spiral
notebook.
Why is cruelty easy for
some? Like laying down
a card.

One of my three cats,
Mojo
sits sleepily on
my old maple desk.
She is all black.
The computer screen is
black.
So are the speakers,
microphone,
and a coffee cup that
sits on the desk.

Above my dresser is a
quote by Hemingway.

"There is nothing to writing.
All you have to do is sit down
at a typewriter and bleed."

It's on black paper.

I've had the room set up
this way for over a year.
I'm just noticing all the
blackness.
Midnight in Nod.
It could be because I miss
my daughter.  She's seven.
All the black fades away when
I think about her smile
and those eyes that laugh at the
rain.

I notice that my shirt
is emerald green, with a
few drops of red.

Plop
Plop

Plop.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICWIGqf62Kw
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read poetry from my books, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse, available on Amazon.com

www.thomaswcase.com
a story unwritten, a verse left untold,
a heart still beating, but always cold.
Does AI have potential?
Yup, absolutely. It could be great!
Will it make people's life better?
Probably not....

Like every other
Disruptive technology before it
Seems to me that AI is here only
To improve the lives of the
Few tycoons that own it

True, AI will cut costs like crazy
Well, guess what? We're people
Not outdated expendable assets
We're not costs to be cut

'Oh, but I'm a high end specialist'
Make no mistake, sunshine
AI's after your job too

I suppose I've become
Sort of an AI luddite now
So follow me, good friends
And together we'll trash
Every big tech datacenter

And who knows?
We might even have
A billionaire's head or two...
Grab your pitchfork and light your torches! It'll be a hell of a party!!
My brother married
A vivacious woman
She positively glowed
as effusive compliments
echo by my brother

She beguiled him
With her charms.
She was a cynosure
Of all eyes
As she walked
Into the room

As time passed
Their love
Became volatile

My brother and I
Devised
Our own language
Though the use of
Weather Terms;  

It’s a sunny day
meant
A good time to visit

Cloudy weather
Changing Rapidly
meant
She’s about to blow.
Not advisable to stop by

The weather terms I worried about most;

Thunderstorms, Eminent Danger

Lighting Strikes likely Twice

I only heard this report once;

A Cyclone Twister
Appeared out of nowhere
Run for the hills
Nowhere to hide
No one is safe
Probable Casualties

My reply;
Yep I’ll skip the visit
To my Brother’s today

Brother’s reply;
Yes a good judgment call
Little Sister

My reply ;
Thanks for the heads up, Bro

I’m a Smooth Sailing Breeze
Perhaps I’ll Catch you
On the way back.
Depending on where
The Weather Blows

Brother’s s reply

“Bury me at Sea

I fear RIP”
🪦


Inspired Songs;
1) You Are The Sunshine of My life 1972
By Stevie Wonder

2) Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head 1942
By B J Thomas

3) Have You Ever seen The Rain?
By Creedence Clearwater Revival

4) Fire And Rain 1970
By James Taylor

5) Rider On The Storm 1971
By The Doors


Footnotes
Regardless of this turbulence
This couple has been together for 45 years
a lot of weather under the bridge. I think that’s what they mean by weathering the storm. If marriage was easy, everybody would be married. I think we’re just the kind of people who don’t quit. you take the good with the bad regardless of the situation you keep going and there’s always tomorrow. There’s no such thing divorce. If you think about it, if you know you’re gonna be together tomorrow, it kind of takes the sting out of those hurtful comments. more than 50% of all marriages end in divorce.
BLT Websters word of the day challenge
4-1-25 Cynosure
A person or a thing that attracts a lot of attention or interest
Effusive 4-2-25
Someone or something described as effusive is expressing or showing a lot of emotion or enthusiasm
It’s 3am again,
the old guy next door
turns his radio on,
Barber cuts through
the silence with every
tortured string, he types
his poetry until the paper
walls weep, I listen to the
rhythm of the keys as the
gentle breeze makes the
curtains dance with the
sad symphony, as the
early morning sun throws
its lonely shadows onto
the pure white sheets
I think of war and peace …
Clay.M
Her laugh
is the pill
I didn’t know
I took—

A side order
with wings—
It lifts
it stings
it loops in erratic
dark circles
through my
cranial attic.

They call it
love—
I call it
a persistent
condition.

The cure—
I’ll tell you
if ever
I can
stop
dancing.
Flunk – Haldi
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YesP5rIBWIg
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