I'm tired of that
Humpty Dumpty
kind of love,
proud and walled
up,
falling
shattered into a
thousand tattered
pieces.

Love drives between
the lines.
It doesn't rush
headlong into
oncoming traffic,
taking the lives of
others.

It's never
cruel or brutal.

It comforts the sick.
It doesn't think with
its ****.
It doesn't leave when
times get tough.
it buckles down through
this rough and tumble
game we call life.

(4)
Warm Vanilla scent
Drifts from Christmas kitchen
Bringing back my youth

(5)
Seven and two fives
Parsed and added carefully
Just make seventeen

(6)
Rainy winter sky
Dripping down the windowpane
Paints a broken heart

(7)
Sleeping daffodils
Cozy in their buried bulbs
Wait for springtime sun

Is anyone teaching AI to pray?
Is it learning the ten commandments?
While we’re making them
Into mechanical Gods,
Have we introduced the two
To each other?

Will the robots prove that  
God is a myth
And assume that throne
For themselves?
Will the robots create
A different world
And people it with
Only machines?

Who is asking
And who is replying
To these fundamental questions?
                  ljm

All I've seen
are legs

of the bloke
upstairs

believe me,
they are snappable

I've knocked
his door

he doesn't
answer

loots
my calm
with his
bass enhancer

Look,

I'm an affable
kind of guy,
but ..

this ******
is testing my
patience

I want him
to die

Not so he rots
in a puddle of snot

-I still claim a frisson of feeling-

plus I don't want the hell
of that festering smell
or the pain of repainting
the ceiling...

I don't try
to be mean,
to stir-up a scene
but the grinning is
hard to pretend,

so I'll sit on my hands
and mutter those plans
for that thin *******
to end.

Like walking into a massive spider web
Feelings of doom wrap around my face.
I frantically try to brush it away,
But sticky tendrils yet remain
And I have trouble moving on.
ljm