The Girl With The Golden Hair

The girl with the golden hair

Rode horses in her youth

They carried Joy and she

In equine bliss

Round the rocky rises

Until

Struck by the arrow of Eros,

She abandoned stirrups

For home keeping

The girl with the golden hair

Meticulously lives to rules

Even the most trivial ones

Sworn in the springtime of life

The paean of love

Melded

Rock and sand

Every which way to

Ramble as one beachhead around the globe

The girl with the golden hair

Matriarch of the family

Treasures moments of service

To others near and far

Puzzles over oblique words

Or pictures

To marvel in nature

Methodically organised as

Botanical wonders and tendered anew

The girl with the golden hair

PDQ senescent

Weaves knits crochets

Us together as one

The sewing mistress

Of unity

Is well capable of

Measuring the blessed

Ingredients of the evening light.

One point five

Ref. Clinicadvisor.com
Cough
Cough, cough,
Is it your throat? Or
Have you caught a viral load?
Rasped by a thousand vibrating files
The vile Bastards of the sloyd shop
Whose job it is to smooth dry surfaces
Saw back and forth in unison
Attacking your ruby larynx
Until soothed by a nameless elixir
You gag and rest upon The Test
To await the day
The text arrives to say
You have what -
Is but a common cold
Cough, cough,

In relief you wash your
Well washed hands.
And praise the advice -
Keep one point five metres
Apart and stay safe.

My Box Brownie could do that.

Photo EBay

Talk of

Artificial Intelligence

Prompted me to read


The programmer

Obviously pressed a button

That spat out art


The work emerged

By … mathematical formula

Was named Le Comte de Belamy


Auctioneer Criristies

Listed it among the works of fifty famous artists

Proclaiming the work as new


Based as it was

On 1,500 scanned portraits

Of actual works by paint masters


Nicolas Laugero-Lasserre

Purchaser proclaimed it

“grotesque and amazing at the same time.”


Estimated to sell

As it cost time to produce

At ten thousand


It sold

With one in the room and one on the phone

In twenty eighteen


It’s Obvious

Pierre Fautrel, Gauthier Vernier, and Hugo Caselles-Dupré.

And GAN are names to watch


After all

They trousered

Four hundred and thirty-two thousand


Just think

If my little Box Brownie had taken colour prints

Before A.I. ………………My art could have made me rich.

AI was used to replicate poetry at last year’s poetry day (21 March 2019.) The photo below is one of five poems generated by artificial Intelligence to be read that day. Here is Various Weathers.

Co Plaith.com

Sonnet To Spring Creek

Author supplied

Like a silken white sheet on a king sized bed

The swell at three metres broke and those up to stuff

Rode boards sixty metres in the roaring surf

Just over the sand dune all lay still – instead

A father assessed if his rod carrying children

Were to eat fish he had better head to the chippery

So still was the air in the estuary it was watery

We stood on a jetty and snapped the formation

.

To remind ourselves winter has these days sanguine

Where all is unchallenged – unlike the links

On the opposite banks where golfers strike

Balls in their wish to defeat Covid 19

Hope is interesting at best me thinks

Ones aim is to defeat the dark ISO feelings like

The Grey Currawong

Photo Geoff Park WordPress


The Grey Currawong

Cementing the reason the holy scriptures

Say hungry birds need not plant or harvest

Despite knowing them as such efficient killers

We reason they are not your everyday evangelists

From my front car seat and – putting to the proof

I paused and marvelled at the beauty of the smoky plumed bird

Ignoring me as it stood proudly on the corduroy rolled iron roof

Like an impatient smorgasbord diner – mark my word

It twisted and speared its beak under the ridge cap

To sample the delicacy presented gracelessly in situ

Savouring the food – tossing it around in its widening gap

Before devouring the arachnids meal – hidden hitherto

Unaware it demonstrated the killer’s act of slaughter

It hopped on two legs over the roof ridge out of sight

The presence of this bird explains the absence of twitter

Or buzz in our garden – trees, shrubs – so quiet

Found poem


Reference. Bendsource.com

Just pour a little water into the tin mug,

It will help it down,” he said,

After he had taken a few mouthfuls

Of the fish.

They had found a tin mug,

With a jar of fresh water.

They husbanded the water carefully,

And David poured out very little,

Lest it should be jerked

Out of the mug

As the boat was tossed about.

Harry dipped the bits of fish

Into the water before eating them.

It took away somewhat of the raw taste,

He fancied.

Still

He very soon

Came to an end

Of his

Meal.


Page 21

Just pour a little water into the tin mug, it will help it down,” he said, after he had taken a few mouthfuls of the fish.

They had found a tin mug, with a jar of fresh water. They husbanded the water carefully, and David poured out very little, lest it should be jerked out of the mug as the boat was tossed about. Harry dipped the bits of fish into the water before eating them. It took away somewhat of the raw taste, he fancied. Still he very soon came to an end of his meal.

Extract from, Adrift in a Boat. WHG Kingston

Another day practising social distancing

Nonet

Author supplied

Lockdown and a certain age of folk

Ensues it is safer indoors.

The sun shines over the yard arm

The whisky bottle’s empty.

Get another one.

No luck. Humbug!

Pandemic

The trap.

Blah!


These are words. They do not represent my thoughts at this terrible time. The only way they do is it is hard to understand the mind set of the people rushing liquor outlets and gun shops now they have emptied grocery stores of food.

My thoughts are with those who have lost their jobs due to enforced business shut downs. They are also with the families grieving loved ones lost to Covid 19. I am grateful to all the responders and all those still turning the wheels of society. Thank you. Stay safe everyone.


UNACCOUNTED

Author’s image

Alice was alone. With purpose she walked onto the pier. The young couple could see she knew where she was going as she passed by them. They ambled along unaware of how threateningly strange the light in the west was becoming, especially near the horizon. Their walk continued along the causeway.

They noticed the boats tied up to the docks as seagulls searched the decks for leftover scraps. The biggest boat was named “It’s Noon Somewhere”. A faded telephone number flapped on a board attached to the door of its cabin. It announced the craft was for sale. Beside the boat a lone fisherman huddled out of the quickening wind watching his line tighten and slacken on each breaking wave.

To the east the sea was alight in bright sunlight. Despite the sun a few droplets of light rain fell like jewels upon the couple’s faces. Oblivious to the weather, perhaps they quickened their pace imperceptibly as they ventured further out along the pier. When they reached its end droplets of rain awakened them to the weather coming in from the west. On the rocks below they saw Alice standing alone. The droplets turned to rain and the couple ran hand-in-hand down the pier toward the shore. Unaware of them Alice was anxiously grasping a light pole and scanning the sea for ……

New isolation

Deadly coronavirus

Social contact spurned


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