Category: AI Art
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23 February: Nest – A Cinquain
Nest – A.I. Cinquain with A.I. Artwork Nested twigs. Winter’s damp chill weave. A peregrine’s cup. dVerse Poets wanted A.I. poetry, but most attempts were stilted and unsatisfactory. Poem Generator UK offered something I could work with. It required considerable tweaking though before it hung together sensibly. AI Digital Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023…
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23 February: for dVerse Poets
First kiss. At 10, I suppose. His name. Craig. His father made dentures for a living. Craig gave me a ring, the colour of healthy gums. The engagement was short-lived. He kissed me. Slid his hand over my stomach. Then upward. So I punched him. In the nose. And I kept the ring. Written for dVerse…
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23 February: Ekphrastic – Imagine a Fly
Imagine a Fly Imagine never listening to Bach, never noticing a rainbow or looking for its pot of gold, never feeling drunk whilst looking at the stars, or knowing a spider’s laugh as you’re caught up in its web. An Ekphrastic poem written for Petite Pen, 35 words and RDP “Complicated” Image by Zdzistaw Beksinski.…
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23 February: RDP “Delete”
Delete Me Delete me, I say,from your call list.I don’t need an extended warranty.I don’t need a wheelchair.I don’t need purified air.I don’t need a new driveway,new windows, or insulation.I don’t need a plot, you silly lot, andI don’t appreciate your insinuation.I don’t want my trees trimmed.I don’t have scuffed alloy rims.I don’t want you…
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22 February: for FOWC – Home
Under Red Roof Tiles The roof has red tiles.They’d be happier bakingin sun, Spain or Morocco,but instead they’re herein February. Mist and cold. The doors are white woodwith brass knobs, bevelledglass. The floor waxed pine.Apple trees, bare right now.Plums, not one fruit last year. This is my house. My home,although a home is anywhere.But it…
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22 February: It’s Proverbial
It’s Proverbial Time decides what’s short, what’s long. When my mother passed, her time was a thin river. There was no trembling. No transient sigh. She is a ghost of a smile now. Her words drops of light, happy as the moon, and before my very eyes the windows fogged. Fall seven times, rise up…
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21 February: RDP “Spellbound”
I. Spellbound We three dragonssqueezing warmthout of stones drunk on sunspellbound to heat asour skin drags along our bones.We three dragons,a trick of the light. II. Spellbound Eyes flit. Tails flick.Toe of lizard and tongueof dog. Owl wings and violet palms. Spell-bound double double,we be toil and trouble. written for RDP “spellbound” and Twiglets “Trick of…
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21 February: RDP – Twilight
The It of It All She wants to be Mary Oliver, or Count Tolstoy, but that creates all sorts of pronoun issues she can’t understand. So she sits on the balcony, and takes in views of town, its white-limed houses with low roofs, and rose gardens. She thinks of having a smoke, forgetting she quit…
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20 February: FOWC Height
When Chimps Flew the Sky We used to play a game,back when there were 9 planets,and Pluto wasn’t just a dog, when chimpanzees flew in space, back when nobody knewhow many galaxies were up there,but we believed in Martians. And as kids, we said things like name ten kinds of clouds,or name the parts of…
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20 February: SOCS Prefix
Trumpeting A neighbour’s howlingbeagle’sspitting at the sky. It’s a proboscis sound,as if one’s skullis harmonic. But even a howling doghas to waitfor a tree to come by. Written for Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness using a word prefix “Pro”. I’m not sure if this is Stream of Consciousness, but this is what came out of my head.…
It's Still Life 