A woman I've met long ago
Liked showing her prominent toe
It looked like a poet
One glance and you'd know it
The toenail continued to grow
I said to her: What are friends for?
I know that this toe you adore
But I'll get you some clippers
Or, please, stop wearing slippers
and show that big toe, nevermore
It'll be a fairytale, they told her when they met her.
Her mom, especially, she said: "I'm one who knows!
You are aware, of course, that Father is a debtor,
and so you have to, even if you hold your nose!"
And Father added, him not wishing to upset her:
"My princess, love will come eventually; it grows.
From what I've heard, the man is sharp, a real go-getter,
and loves his fashion, he's at all the fashion shows!"
The princess heard, of course, you can't avoid the chatter
and though ecstatic when the Emperor proposed,
Life's not a fairytale, she wrote them in her letter,
expressed in verses, as the princess hated prose.
When royals marry, some for worse, and some for better,
You've heard of some of these, and certainly of those
For it is surely a completely different matter,
when it's the empress that's the one who has no clothes.
Author notes: image generated by author prompt to ChatGPT
hearts on display, searching for love
some hope and pray, some look above
some being told they'll find it soon
under a cold, inconstant moon
Author notes: Image from Medium
My boyfriend's a resident alien
He's green, although mostly mammalian
Can't have him deported
If he gets reported
Our priest was an Episcopalian
Since this whole ordeal began
It's all gone according to plan
But he's irritated
His ego deflated
I call him my little green man
Chrysanthemum lit gently by the moon,
its petals basking in her eerie glow.
Oh, Mistress of the Night, don't leave so soon.
No, let the hourglass sand suspend its flow,
so I can sit here, by the window sill,
and capture it with my imperfect brush.
Stay there and shine, be absolutely still,
while I attempt to suade the purple, lush,
imperiously self-important bloom,
to grace this eager canvas with its shape,
so others, too, can place it in their room,
and find in it a moment of escape,
a moment when the Mistress of the Night
engulfs you too in gentle, holy light.
Author notes: image generated by author's prompt to Gemini
I might have committed a gaffe
(Though I'm rarely so tactless and rough)
But despite that tall neck
(and those eyes, what the heck)
The lady is not a giraffe
Author notes: image from iStock
Matter of fact
One can easily tell
Unless they are attacked
Nay, or under a spell
That a hill is a hill
And a mountain is taller
It's not that big a skill
No... I wish it was smaller
Since I'm walking uphill
Unfurl those bright, delicate gossamer wings
that shimmer and shine in the sun,
fulfilling the promise that each of us brings
and given, since life had begun,
to strive for it all, to conquer, to soar
and who could ask life for anything more
Author notes: image from NightCafe
gently flowing sand crack in an ancient sundial the river of time
Imagine you've built that on purpose:
a house that seems sure to collapse.
Imagine that life is a circus:
Imagine that every perhaps
need not be a maybe.
What a day would today be!
Imagine...
But not in all caps
----------------------------------- ----------------------------------- ---
Thanks for being here, Miriam!
Author notes: Image of the "Copper" building taken by author on a recent ferry trip to New York City. https://thecopper.com/ Splitting Prompt 1 and 3, I think wc 46
Oh, perish the thought!
As that ChatGPT
whom we ourselves taught
now makes everything free
As that ChatGPT
for better or worse
learns to count one, two, three
what's left but to curse
Whom we ourselves taught
AGI, no, she's not
Oh, what have we wrought
and what does she plot
Now makes everything free
But I have a hunch
and I think you agree
that there's no free lunch
Author notes: image generated by author prompt to Gemini
It's true: I have egg on my face,
but please do not get on my case.
Yes, I've whored and I've gambled,
but my brain isn't scrambled
as it would be hard to replace