dogtrax

Jumbo

jet shrimp wings

'cause the world's filled with bigger things

but

homes concerts books

are now becoming tiny, too

for DS106 Daily Create

Swirling dervish in a perfect suit Oh my love, my memory swoons

from 'Wild Beauty' by jessica Care moore https://poets.org/poem/wild-beauty?mc_cid=8f01f46098&mc_eid=ed9c8bae96

Dust is what divides us on this afternoon, a frantic energy driving you wild with your feet kicking dirt as I lounge here, lazy as a log, laughing at the madness of how we still call it love

Riding currents, flow, the arc of a falling dive; sea birds plunge, below

Playing A Poem (a collaboration with AI)

(Gemini) A whisper stirs on strings, a lonely cry, (me) resin on the bow, she closes her eyes to sing

(Gemini) A melody unfurls, a tapestry of sound, (me) Knitted and knotted, each note, unbound

(Gemini) Whispers crescendo, a storm in a teacup's heart, (me) The listener settles in, closes eyes, finds the center of the sound

(Gemini) Harmony drapes them, a cloak of calm (me) On the horizon, a trombone plays soft and low

(Gemini) A distant call, a yearning melody's glow (me) And beneath our feet, a rhythmic beat, sticks on stone

(Gemini) Mirroring the rhythm, finding their own space, (me) In grace, the music makes light

Conversation with Gemini AI: https://g.co/gemini/share/4e0316c0bcf2

Green lady in the harbor with a lantern and a poem, a reminder of those of us, restlessly yearning to breathe free

for MastoPrompt

Huddled together on a frigid wintry morn, bundled up in warmth

I celebrate the song – the moment it sings itself, the way it whispers itself free, as melodic to me, as it is to you, too

for Open Write (Playing with Walt Whitman a bit)

Some Dandelions act as Spring lanterns, glowing in the concrete cracks

How old are you when you receive this poem?

I am sixteen years old

You're wide awake, now, I remember, the home shaken by that midnight call on the phone

I am sixteen years old

Your parents, woken, rushed out, in their panic - they've left you alone

I am sixteen years old

You know, in this moment of pounding heart and uncertainty, without being told

I am sixteen years old

that the world's been splintered, like the tree you'll see, down the bend in the road

I am sixteen years old

And he was nineteen

for OpenWrite

Sit with me, won't you, in our quiet spot, serene, beneath the green eaves?