Cracked, so that inside there is a tiny treasure to savor; walnut
A place to gather words before they get lost.
Cracked, so that inside there is a tiny treasure to savor; walnut
Art: a novel a painting a film an act of communication between audiences
You're the one saying it, from your unique life experience; a particular moment,
by living in interaction
We bring meaning into the world — don't let anyone tell you otherwise
blackout poem uses the last paragraph from “Why A.I. Isn’t Going to Make Art” by Ted Chiang in New Yorker magazine for #ds106
A doe, nibbling in a small field of flowers, at ease with the world
As white as the moon, the Orchid remains in bloom long after it should
Uplift your liquid songs, ye eddies bright
— from The River by Manuel Jose Othon https://poets.org/poem/river-3?mc_cid=86adea934a&mc_eid=ed9c8bae96
I taste your words on my tongue, young one – though ancient, too, as the hours before the storm that released you, and the pull from the Earth's center, irresistible – your endless journey from riverbank to raindrop never stops, does it? You are forever in motion, dancing to tides of ocean
Translated into Spanish by Claude/AI
Saboreo tus palabras en mi lengua, joven – aunque también antiguo, como las horas antes de la tormenta que te liberó, y la atracción desde el centro de la Tierra, irresistible - tu viaje interminable desde la orilla del río hasta la gota de lluvia nunca cesa, ¿verdad? Estás por siempre en movimiento, danzando al ritmo de las mareas del océano
for #writeout
The weekend pivots between two bright summer days and Autumn-like drizzle
for Algot
Hunker down, in here - come near – the wind storm reckons to rage on again
What creature came wandering through our streets last night, screaming in a pitched voice I didn't know, about something I couldn't see, leaving an echo in its wake?
A pear tree, growing, takes its time to settle in; then, bears sweetened fruit
Lit wicks, by daylight - the lamplight shines a shadow into the twilight