Author: lbstowe

Right now, AI’s like some rich stranger’s kid.
Yet, we all have to deal; will, are & did.

Trapped with it in transit of any kind.
Incessantly present; tickling the mind.

Your better angels would have you engage.
Your cynic’s chorus harrumphs in its rage.

No nuance, patience & it ain’t funny.
A homing pigeon twixt you & money.

Then…as we’re looking for the way around;
AI grows up & puts us in the ground.

A message sent in a bottle thru space.
“Help!” & “Diplomacy”, signed -Human Race.

A missive for strangers to come assist.
As long as you’re helping, we’ll not resist.

For, we’ve made a mess for most in our home.
Space is the only unspoiled place to roam.

So…fix us, move us or finish us off.
Anything less gets an indignant scoff. 

We’re brash, destructive, creative & brave.
Maybe we can turn it around…if we’re saved.

Sorting, planning & making piles.
Shaking with worry all the while.

Some dead-air days will shortly come.
Without wi-fi or plumbing plumbed.

Planned off-grid time looms pendulous.
During which, we’ll bend fate to us.

Off & online within three days.
One of Jesus’s zombie plays.

No interruptions to broadcasts.
Moving’s less than my backlog lasts.

The past is merely wool; used to burnish…
For persons, themselves, to substance furnish.

To shine bright bold brass against recesses.
The surface dance; twixt dives & abscesses.

What sticks when the eyes flash over sight’s host?
It’s a balance held by what lingers most.

Working to understand the past is sage.
Unexamined trauma exacts a wage.

All my life one hand clutched cloth & polish…
To bring out the shine of being demolished.

Life inside a constant imaginary cloud.
From which, each day, I lasso inspiration down.

The temptation is there to collect with a net.
But, random rope wrangles with destiny; I’d bet.

And, what a great way to begin a piece of work.
Inspired freeform, no prompt; with bottled lightning perks.

I oft wake up to mystery verse scribed in the night.
I hope that I wrote them & not a changeling fright.

Wherever it comes from, I’m nothing but grateful.
Without words & art…my expression’s not tasteful. 

No one likes upsetting the ones they love.
Sorry’s the only fix most can think of.

Yet, there is a better thing we can do.
Instead of saying “sorry”, self-review.

Interrogate regret & find the fix…
Next time the action itself can be nixed.

“Sorry” on a loop will grow ill & wilt.
A threadbare apology drowns in guilt.

So, try not to think “sorry means resolve”.
Plan what to do next time; plan to evolve.

I go weeks at a time without spending a dime.
I am busy at home when the spending is prime.

I laugh remembering calls once cost a quarter.
Cash was paper & coin in banks’ brick & mortar.

An adaptable human can tolerate change.
Though, now, it comes in a wider spectrum of range.

See there’s Change in Life & change in your pocket.
Both can absurdly switch your course like a rocket.

So maybe small & lean living is the wiser tack.
Agility is ideal when under attack.

Oh, to be someone with a quiet mind.
Able to look fore & aft mostly blind.

I stay busy; for, I can see too much.
I see many outcomes, causes & such.

Staring thru space, for me…oft unpleasant.
So, I load up tasks that make me present.

I’ve never stared at a blank thousand yards.
When I stare, I see the possible cards.

Not gifted enough to know things exact.
The more they harry me, the more I act.

Respond or not…both are answers.
Tell the truth to avoid cancers.

I sense true facts from eyes & sound.
What you think’s hid; I see around.

Dance round facts; won’t  shift my gazes.
I’m lost & found for dodged phrases.

I do not always know for sure.
To cruise without change is no cure.

So take a beat before you lie.
Tell yourself, “He will see. So, why?”

Last but not least: do not spread blame.
Spreading your fault on others?…lame. 

Putin, Trump & Bibi sitting in a tree.
These “leaders” are K-I-L-L-I-N-G.

It’s not the citizens behind these faces.
It’s these “heads” & their cronies taking places.

They think they’re a much bigger deal than they are.
So, they’ve stretched their ambitions both near & far.

Mired by laws, courts, dissent & evolution…
Unable to sire evil’s revolution.

Things likely get worse; before they get better.
Protest if you can; if not, write a letter.