AI is groupthink, it’s hewed to pre-existing work,
which it aggregates into something bland and flat.

If you don’t want your work scraped and copied by AI, try
writing off-balance ideas that aren’t for everyone and have faith
that AI will never be able to actually rival human creativity.

Deny AI the echo chamber of predictable content on which it feeds.

I polish my pieces to a pointless sheen, which gives
them an algorithmically indecipherable quality.

When it comes my to poetry, I have to admit,
I’m working through mediocrity—hoping that it’s just a phase.

If failure is essential for growth
I’m going to be a giant

But after all, someone has to define the baseline.
You’re welcome.

Ok, Let’s wax poetic..

There are thousands of stars
in that black outer-place
where gravitas holds them
firmly in place.

I fret not about avian abductions,
or unidentified flying soccers,
still, I’ve a waxed on them
in multiverse
.
.
Songs for this:
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone
Late Night Talking by Harry Styles

As we grow,
We mature.
Our ideas change,
So does our nature.
I don't want to instigate,
As much as I want to love now.
I used to want to rule an empire,
But now I'll settle for common things.
Settle down with my queen,
I'll last forever, if she lets me.

As we grow,
We lose touch.
Of each little thing we know,
Everything we loved so much.
I no longer feel aggression,
The same way I feel peace.
I may be tired,
But I'm just tuckered out,
I've learned to sleep.

No matter how you view it-
It's all lookings, each perspective.
You grow & you grow & you grow,
But you refuse to germinate.
Don't you know?
You must release your seedlings
If you hope for a root
To be planted.
Can't have too fragile of a barrier,
But neither too hard the shell.
Spread your wings
And do your thing,
Flaunt your laurels.

Pick a given day,
take one from the flow
of history through mystery
of us

we ready readers reckoning
today, we live or die,

no other options
at this level,
live
or don't,
don't make me
no never mind

pay no mind, rethinking
what you mean
long after all that made sense
dissipates, vaporixes
in a flash, up in smoke
worry worth a minute

becomes muddled in music
surrounding us in sounds
such as no humans

heard until this century

Rush- hush the sound, not the band
sh peace
soft noise of life, un urbanized slow

judge the day, is it worth it?

Do we connect,
feel the flow, knowing

not everybody weighs a given day,
as one when somebody must bake
and somebody must deliver
our ration of daily bread

and whatever else the daysman deems
mankind needs to rest in peace,

on earth, as it really is in perfect peace.
Timeless ever after all, happiest ever
as any fully Disneyified mind may
confirm believing, that was
Anaheim,
where Penny Thiel lived
first lived in bikini I ever saw,

we most of us, people in mean time,
average rate life pace,
taking time
from white trash
with a job,
by the hour, paying most attention,
near the end,
as time feels paid up

restless, time itself, feels tired, like
nonsense once made, staying nonsense

time spent
to pay attention deficits grown evermore
disbelievable, better cogitated, clumps
encultured gut biome global digestion

of things grown ups promised us true,
retired mental acknowlegement
authority,
when you are this
old, weigh memory
to take a task to test

was it worth it, to the doer, or
the audience involved in rewarding

the doing being proven possible,
and all adapting toe to TOE
whatsoever two or more
agree
ag me on, cogency effect

clump the entire trust concept
in spirit,
in mind and body both,
felt real... truth free making
taking an idle minute to remember
a given minute
in your judging day,
to redeem an idle word based idea,

spirit, what it is, live, breath
will to live, not to steal **** destroy,

just
to be, in touch, holding truth's
way what life with knowledge makes,

knowing truth never forbad knowing
life is hard, but when it works,

it feels beautiful…

rest, in time, rest while using time
to breathe and stare
at stars
in the desert,
you may imagine,
any night. Always following a good night rest,

trust, true rest compressed, rest in truth,

peace makers are made, not born, believe

the power dreamers were said
to have, take that and become dream interpreter, see, advise kings,
see all truth as hidden, invisible

without the dream interpreter certification

ai, dance, on a proverb old Ben used

seest thou a mench diligent
in his own business, busy mind

ing things that make sense, not mind
ing things that never will, mad, angery slippery

swiftest passage through

chaos,
art f'art towb ra'
nothing
to hold on, no conceptual gluonic attraction,

feel free will push,
push too hard,
pop

exhale, pursed lips, about
to weigh the day,
worth the effort
so far… so good… something suggesting

the current opinion, lets the whole day
be considered good,
if it bore good fruit.

Easy, idle time redemption token…

there is more, but, enough
the whole world knows, we cannot

tell the whole truth, and nothing but,

try it, kid. But trust the archives.

To wake up and wonder,
A blank screen, and a cursor
Blinking on and off,
Like ideas that stir,
And thoughts that drift,
In the docx, they confer.

from ambiguity is insight born.
minds, both clever and not,
all conceive many a thought.

in attempt to interpret,
ideas are set into motion,
building a creative notion.

through presence of equivocation,
wit is given liberty