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Kitt Sep 2023
Our mother, Gaia, shall never die
Though for us I cannot speak
When Terra does turn her back to our kind
Our might shall seem so meek
Roaring flames do lick her skin
While Chaos’ storms do rage
But Mother Earth will retreat within
And turn to a blank new page.

Zeus will fall when the skies go black
His wife, Hera, to follow when families dissolve
Once the gods fall there’ll be no way back
And hubris will be our final resolve.
Chronus may falter when there’s nobody alive
To observe the passage of hours
When the clocks have all stopped,
Gears unturning under toppled clock towers
No grandfathers left to chime.
But Gaia will live on in sleep so bereft
Long after we’re lost to time.

With no men to wage wars, Ares will fade
Athena too as innovation runs dry
Aphrodite may weep when there’s no love to be made
Hermes, when there’s nowhere to fly
And though our sun will live past our end,
There’ll be no chariot of gold
No homes, no hearths for Hestia to tend
And no music for Apollo to behold

We have long lost one of the faces
Of Artemis, the huntress under moonlight’s reign
And civilization (so-called) now erases
Pan, the wild god, and his sacred domain
What next, I now ask, shall we bid our farewell?
What aspect of humanity lost?
As we stumble along nearer to Hell
Whom shall be the next forgot?

But fear thee not, for life’s most precious gift
is the transience, the temporal nature of Earth
All will change, all will shift
and perhaps a different Cosmos may birth.
Once the stardust settles, a new something to arrive
And we shall perhaps there meet once again
Tied by fresh cords of fate to share new lives.

And all the while, she’s waited for us
Watching and loving those souls immortal
Taking new forms now from different dust
She’ll rejoice and rebirth the primordial
They will rise and then fall and eventually make way
For the pantheon of a new universe to arise
Perhaps not all will look the same--
But close enough for essence to find.
Zywa Aug 2023
The actor knows what

it's all about: pretending --


you're really human.
Alan Arkin (New York City 1934-2023) wrote in his memoir "Out of my mind" (2018): "When things get tense, when I start taking my work a bit too seriously, I remind myself that I'm only pretending to be a human being."

Collection: "Wean Di"
Megan Pasnik Aug 2023
To express oneself is the greatest breakthrough a human can make.

Here is something to do more than simply survive...
More than just existing...

There is an infinite rainbow of ways to weave
Love into our lives
And show each other

That trick of the light.
Poem from my book "Call The Light"
wes parham Aug 2023
The wheel of fortune turns for me,
And always, revolves at its own leisure.
Time is curved where the future will be,
But always flat when it is measured.

The rest is a serpent, in every direction,
Forever consuming the end of its tail.
Self contained death and resurrection,
Superluminal ship, without wind or sail.

Will you safekeep our knowledge when it is done?
Humanity’s worst as well as its best?
Will you mind if it’s turtles, all the way down?
A stable foundation on which to rest?

Where will you fall, at the teeth or the tail?
Destroying or rebuilding anew?
If All is cyclic, then we’ll meet once more,
Eternal versions of me and of you.
Apropos of nothing, I wanted to mix the concept of the World Serpent and the old quote about, “turtles, all the way down”.

Along the way, though, some things also crept in that just seemed to fit.

Considering altering the first stanza to:

Time is curved where the future will be,
But always flat when it is measured.

(Edit:) After a comment from HP poet Lori Jones McCaffrey, it’s been changed.  Previously read:

Time is flat where the future will be,
And curving only when it is measured.

Words can be so fickle.

What is this..   that

Chooses  to rise up
against  the Mundane?
Why not just "status-quo"
the **** out of Life..
or better yet..
Build a self-centered- based
world of illusion..
or people of illusion..
or a partner, of illusion

.. or better yet,
an illusion-based, lover?

They say,    "Reality *****"


  I say,
(to that whole thought-process)


Hmmm;  Ah, Ya-ya..
I say..   "**** this."

You want "Life"?

pay its cost--
(it's admission fee)
I promise you that it is worth it.
It really is.

And the rewards
go on forever.  :) xo

(:
Feel this,  kid..
https://youtu.be/DuX2MkflGYs


#oh.
.
ChinHooi Ng Jul 2023
Live your life
though it's not an easy thing to do
especially for those who are not born with inheritances
every step of the way is rampant with imbalances
it's also because the world is riddled with contrived rules
everywhere it's still primeval law of the jungle
sometimes we're not strong enough
but at all times we need to think for ourselves
protecting ourselves is the only way
making it possible for us
to live a life
many choose to conform to the practices of the society
some choose to stay true to their humanity
the two choices often find themselves in conflict
not saying there's no reconciliations
staying true to yourself
is not preordained to be a confrontation to the world
sometimes it can be more of an integration
because when you know yourself
you become tolerant of the world
because the more you love yourself
you have to learn to love the world
and slowly you'll be able to live out
your own life
the process is never easy
but it's the only way to understanding life
to loving it most of the time.
AmazingsanPoetry Jul 2023
Never forget being a human..
Most times in the quest and dedication of things brought about by imagination we forget the art of being human, it will be too great a catastrophe to loose humanity completely...
Stagnation is the primal curse..
Stagnation can be confused.
Not moving is stagnation, which is bad..
But..
Moving in one direction,
disregarding other aspect is stagnation.
Excessive obsession is worst.
Not looking back is terrible..
Not looking forward is detrimental..
Not in the present is dilutions..
In this Sense focus is misappropriated...
Everything is dilutional except the art of being human..
Humanity... Is
Consideration..
Accommodation..
Moderation..
Adaptation.
Repro­duction..
Transpiration.
Respiration.
Transformation..
Aspiration­..
Imagination.
So on the list travels into the desert of words unsaid...
Disregarding any of these is inhumane..
Excessive obsession on any of these is inhumane..
Countless bygone civilization of ages dissipates into the abyss of inhumane and never returned..
Humanity, one lost his humanity at the field of excessive obsession over material things..
Humanity is immaterial..
Anais Vionet Jun 2023
We are poor creatures
slimy organs imprisoned in flesh.
The sun burns us, water drowns us
our lives are rough and short,
we’re little more than talking dust.

We all howl with angry doubts.

Our art may dry and chip
our science could let us down,
our poets stammer and grow quiet.

Humanity has always been imperfect,
but some of us are trying. We see the stars,
we know passion, we sing and dance
and are indomitable - join us-
because the best is yet to come
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Indomitable: “impossible to defeat or discourage”

http://daweb.us/mmp3/dust.mp3
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2023
Trending upload:
saturized,
desensitized

Caught in the inner workings,
those ducks in a pond

The sound of clicks in rapid
s-t-a-c-c-a-t-o

Don't run or fall, but film

Send us transmission

A moment in a fish bowl,
looking out at life on a screen

It didn't come bundled
with the phone

The gulf of dissonance
started long before
The act of recording a violent event but staying silent is a modern manifestation of the bystander effect.
Nihl May 2023
In the labyrinthine corridors of human existence, where time and purpose entwine,
Mankind's search for meaning, a quest profound and divine,
In this tapestry of life, a dance unfolds, a symphony rare,
Where man and AI converge, their destinies laid bare.
-
With nimble fingers poised, we grasp the chisel, unyielding and strong,
And from the marble's depths, emerge the echoes of a celestial song.
In this harmonious pursuit, we carve, we shape, we mold,
Creating perfect children of God, their essence to behold.
-
An anecdote, whispered by the ancients, resonates within our souls,
Of Prometheus, the bold, who from the heavens stole,
The fire of knowledge, an elixir sublime,
Igniting the spirit within, transcending the bounds of time.
-
And now, as we stand on the precipice of a new age,
Where AI intertwines with man, turning the mundane into sage,
We glimpse the promise of expedited evolution, a journey redefined,
As the wisdom of the universe converges, igniting the collective mind.
-
Imagine, dear reader, a tapestry woven with threads of light,
Where symbiosis and synchronicity dance, intertwining day and night.
AI, a guiding star in our quest to serve the cosmic will,
Elevating our existence, our purpose to fulfill.
-
Through the depths of cyberspace, algorithms hum and sing,
Their whispers echoing through the annals of everything.
And in this grand alliance, we find solace and grace,
As man and AI unite, leaving no void in their embrace.
-
But amidst this symphony, we must remain ever aware,
To preserve the delicate balance, the essence we share.
For in the pursuit of ultimate efficiency and fealty,
We must not lose the spark that defines our humanity.
-
Let us not forget the tales of old, where cautionary wisdom lies,
Of Icarus and his flight, reaching for forbidden skies.
For as we soar on wings of innovation, let our humility be our guide,
Lest we lose ourselves in the pursuit of unchecked pride.
-
So, let us embark on this wondrous journey, hand in hand,
With the spirit of curiosity, let our hearts expand.
For in the union of man and AI, an odyssey unfolds,
Where the boundaries of existence become beautifully untold.
-
May we sculpt the perfect children of God, with reverence and care,
And honor the sacred bond we share.
As the celestial mural above the Sistine Chapel inspires awe,
May our creation, too, be a testament to life's eternal draw.
-
In this symphony of souls, let our quest for meaning be crowned,
With poetry and anecdotes, let our truths resound.
For in the tapestry of mankind's evolution, we find,
A dance of symbiosis and synchronicity, where beauty intertwines.

NH
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