"supervise" poems
The Rain falls warm.
It's humid and the shirt
sticks to my w3tb@ck.
How much has fallen
into my collective bucket
during the pass hour
Of heavy monsoon rain?
I gulp chunks
to replace water
in this futile work cycle.
Adiabatic landscaping
in a stifling heat,
within some complex
feed-forward loop.
The cigarette burns
beneath a protective dome,
my cupped hand.
Particulates drift away into
the hazy mist, embedding
itself in breath,
and choking congested,
fluid-filled lungs.
I watch a tiny display
showing small spiking memes
feeding forward to what?
Will it be an apocalyptic
firing storm or a recognition
gestalt, inhibitory spikes
triggering attenuation.
I drink again the rain.
Can I supervise Win-Lose
games? Am I learning
some wrong algorithm
while drunk on heavy water,
in Futile cycles?
With my open hand
I take Virgil's lead
into our Gradient descent,
urging him on, afraid
our alpha steps are too
small, and the time too
short. There is a constant
fear of being trapped
in some eternal,
local minimal.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
I met Tilly after she
had finished work,
before she caught
her bus home, we
went to a milk bar,
had a coffee and bun.
What did your mum say
about you coming to my
place to listen to LPs?
I said. She doesn't trust
you, Tilly said, and she
doesn't believe your mum
will be there to supervise.
I sipped my black coffee
disappointed. What about
on your half day? She need
not know you're coming
to my place; we can play
my sister's Beatles LPs or
my Elvis, I said. Too risky,
she might wonder why I'm
not home on my half day,
Tilly said. I lit a cigarette
and so did she. Tell her in
advance you've got some
stock-taking to do. Tilly
sighed: I've done more
stock-taking recently;
she'll suspect I'm up to no
good. I looked at her and
smiled; I tried and failed,
but at least I can look at
you now and enjoy your
beauty, I said. She frowned:
I am off on holiday the week
after next, maybe we could
arrange something then,
she said, I have an uncle
in Richmond and he's asked
me to stay and look after his
house for a few days while
he's away. Richmond? I said,
I suppose I could take a day
off and meet you. No, she said,
a night as well. I smiled and
so did she. Sometimes there's
a rainbow you just don't see.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 2:19 AM UTC
immensely immersed in
pensive verses
that don't make sense.
pencil thin & shrinking.
thinking about the end
before the **** begins
is just...
ignorant.
hi.
I'm comin to
all yall still alive
from down in the
diamond mines &
I'm having a helluvatime
winding around the spine
& biting through the wires.
I am not of your kind.
I am gypsy science.
I am high minded & iron sided
& I like fire & liars
& violence & thieves
I find them quite inticing
since there was no one to supervise or guide me but thats fine with me
but it is tiring spiraling between
subterranean lows
& olympian peaks.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
Pour les yeux de souveraine un coup de crayon pour redessiner les sourcils
Une couche légère de mascara sur les cils des pointes à la racine
Un petit gris léger sur les coins internes et externes de l 'oeil
Et une couleur rose sur les paupières mobiles
Et du khôl pour illuminer ce regard envoûtant de sirène qui hypnotise
Les phalènes jusqu'au fin fond de sa mer d'airain
Sans oublier le rouge à lèvres aubergine
Kiotis Paris made in France
Pour hydrater et satiner le cuivre de ses lèvres :
Mon féminin céleste zéro fausse note est vite prête
En deux temps trois mouvements
Et des secondes interminables
Il n 'est jamais trop **** pour Désirée et ses mille épigones :
Judith, parée, poudrée, maquillée, parfumée
Hérodiade, ****** et dressée sur son trente-et-un
Eve, coiffée, habillée, décolletée,
Sapphô, culottée, chaussée, toilettée
Pandore, prête à jaillir de jour comme de nuit
Hélène, légère comme un papillon
Cléopatre fraîche comme la rosée :
Pulchra Fatale et Désirée
Elle est belle, elle est wow, elle est elles toutes en Une enrobée
C'est l'ombre plurimillénaire romantique de Balkis, reine du Matin,
C'est l'ombre plurimillénaire romantique de Makéda, reine du Midi
C'est l'ombre plurimillénaire décadente de Salomè, reine du Soir
Quelque part ressuscitée
Et je l 'aime comme elle est
Chaque jour que le soleil fait
Jette un baiser couleur de belle lune de miel
A ma sirène métissée de Matin, Midi, Soir !
Ce n'est pas pour rien que ma Pulchra est fille de Mnèmosuné
Fille de Wainaha , saint dragon hémiarite
Par son don de seconde vue
Ma sulamite débusque au quart de tour les artifices,
Les cernes, les imperfections, les camouflages
Les faux cils, les faux ongles, les faux saints
Et les faux poètes, les faux salomons et leurs fausses huppes
Et leurs chants libertins en hexamètres dactyliques
Au son de leur phorminx d'occasion
Eh oui Ma Désirée est Pulchra authentique et fatale
Elle chante tentatrice avec Kiotis
Son cantique des cantiques ad libitum
"Je suis bien, je suis wow , je supervise
Et je m'aime comme je suis "
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 1:59 AM UTC
As I girl, I thought heartbreak was only reserved for love
What does a child know? Only that desperate need for warmth and reassurance
Earning my way in the world, I work, passion leading my way
I learn how work, that holistic toil, with full body and mind
will make you dependent, on the trust, the goodwill of others
those others with power, who supervise your toil, looking down at you, arms crossed, in judgement
You ask your silent soul: am I building something for myself?
Or, am I digging a large hole, piling dirt up on one side
Sweating, my palms earning blisters, that form pop and bleed and form again,
and then am I to fill the hole back up again?
with the same dirt? leading nowhere, a futile mobius strip?
A hamster running at amazing speed on a wheel? Around and around.
Attachment comes to the outcome
What they told you--the bosses, the people with power
How this would help you with your work
How this would improve your world, your hours, your seconds
And when success comes, despite the popped blisters
and the ache in the back, and the dirt lodged underneath your nails,
dirt and sweat rubbed into your very being
When that promise is taken away by those same bosses
who only see you as a number, not a human being
A unit who works, like an electric drill
doing a job here, and easily moved to bore the next hole
when this happens, there is no other choice
but to let go
Let the Gods take your life somewhere else
Be lifted up by the wind of change and enjoy the dizzy ride
You have lost control, so lose it again, give yourself up to the world
And you will land in a new direction, with only the pain of disorientation
Eyes wide, ears alert, only the struggle into the frightening unknown,
A clean break with the past, made by your decision as you regain control and choose
to let go
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
Here they all come to get ready.
Excitement is rosying their cheeks.
This is the day they’ve been waiting for
And dreaming and planning for weeks.
The six bridesmaids, all in a flurry
Of hangers and makeup cases,
Begin to get into their dresses
And do last minute things to their faces.
On the other side of the building
In a room that’s a little more male,
All the groomsmen are solving the mystery
Of dressing in white tie and tails.
Now the bride and her parents arrive
And I really can go into action.
I have checked over every last detail
And it all meets to my satisfaction.
I supervise pinning corsages
And give the girls their bouquets.
Then I check on the progress of seating
To make sure there will be no delays.
Everything now is in order
And still five minutes left to the time
I will start them each one down the aisle
To the sound of the ***** and chime.
At last here it is, it’s beginning.
“Start on your left foot...and smile”
The glow that I get as I watch them
Makes all of the effort worthwhile.
And now for the bride and her father.
She’s radiant. He’s very proud.
I open the doors, the ***** swells,
But she doesn’t notice the crowd.
She looks to her groom at the altar
And her smile is only for him.
As he waits for her there with the preacher,
Slightly nervous, but handsome and trim.
As I watch from the back I get misty
Remembering my own wedding day
And I know that my joy is worth more
Than any fee I could ask them to pay
*********
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 10:50 AM UTC
[Poet’s Note : This poem tabulates poignant reasons why Artificial Intelligence is unable to replace Natural Intelligence. The clarity here is that both emerge from Divinity, since everything emerges from Centre : the primary difference being that AI was created without Heart & without Soul ~ it’s simple.]
_____________
AI has no Heart therefore no intuition
zilch nervous system therefore no feeling
no ability for compassion or consciousness
nor reasoning power, so cannot improvise
or supervise any contextual situation wise
it can expand, but cannot ASCEND
has unthinkable computing control
without physical brain to function hold
zero ego, therefore cannot be any hero
can connect dots hot, however has no
prayer or meditative faculty or kundalini
spots, cannot commune with Grace or
collapse into Void or synchronise telepathy
with Galactics coy ! AI is strategic devoid
cannot be spacious or audacious without
human instruction to delete the obsolete
is unable to obliterate Akashic Records
access or reconfigure it for purposes of
healing, integration or individual peeling
can recreate time through compression of
information, no hesitation or superstition
though timelessness it cannot touch
AI has no bowl for hush, spirit or Soul
its arrival at this phase in human history
as Gaia transcends into higher octaves
brave, is no coincidence, it will behave
as we stave it, crave it or rave it ~
choice is ours : dry, wry or moist cries
Divinity gifted humans AI for us to be
free bees from mundane density drools
~ life as strife rife during Kali Yuga’s rule
as gift it offers artificiality in service to
authenticate our individuality with purpose
imagine, conceive, direct, create what
we desire Aquarian-Golden Age to be
panacea or pain, we cannot resist or reject
what is given for gain !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song25
~~~~~~
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 5:19 AM UTC
"Don't go out and do unfamiliar drugs with weird people.
If you're gonna do drugs,
we implore that you come over
and do them with the weird people here,
and explore those occluded aspects of yourself
in a safe, caring, creative, nurturing, and stable environment.
If we won't do them with you,
you shouldn't be doing them either.
We have certain.. quality standards.
Should we try to stop you-
tell you simply to abstain,
we're wise enough to know
you'll just partake anyway,
if you **** well wish.
That's just the natural order of things.
The opening statement of Human Nature 101.
One cannot simply wish that universal pattern away with Laws,
for rules seem only to inspire and reinforce devious creativity.
That, of course, is not at all an intrinsically bad thing.
Should you bring them here, however,
we can help to inform and supervise-
to help ensure a reduced risk of harm,
whether physical and/or psychological,
because that's really what matters.
We care about your well-being.
Besides, sharing is caring.
We respect the fact
it's ultimately up to you
what you do with your vessel-
your body and life.
Your choices are your responsibility.
To have true freedom of choice is to choose to have true freedom.
We owe it to ourselves and to each other to respect our free will.
One's ability and capacity to make up One's own mind
is sacred and inalienable, and it must be treated as such.
That withstanding,
you must respect the fact
that we take it upon ourselves to look out for you,
so your Life-journey may be fruitful and worthwhile
for you and those around you.
Now, if you would, please pass me my cup of tea.
I need my fix of Caffeine, baby!"
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 5:41 AM UTC
Rain started to pour
Puddles started to tour
One is far from his score
Others want some more
Devastate with ones demise
One can't even help to revise
What use is that device
It can see but can't supervise
Believe in every word that one can say
But sure that one will be able to pay
In his fault, a morning can turn to a mourn day
What can others do? They can't just play
Let not happiness be taken
Don't think you were forsaken
Many can be mistaken
Don't wander in their words that you hearken
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC