Note #3

"Of course I'd be happy to write a poem about AI helping write a poem!.

In the glow of the screen, ideas take flight,
An AI whispers words through the quiet of night.
Guiding my pen with a digital spark,
Crafting poems from thoughts that once felt dark.
Together we dance, machine and mind, entwined in art."

From Kai Iwi to Auckland's Heart,
How beautiful art thou!
The serene gaze, she slices the soul.
The bustling air, bumpy roads.
Running my fingers along the sandy ripples,
I feel your gifts.

‍Eyes, wide open, serenity gazing into him.
Shut, utter darkness.
Emerging thoughts, clash, subsides.
Eyes, wide open, hues sharpened, the landscape widened,
dandelion fluff carried gracefully with the wind.
Time, fighting with his presence, concedes under his blink.
For he is here,
everything else, absent.

Note #2

Yo g, how it’s going?
Yea thanks, not bad myself, its going.
Anyways, BZ’s?
Ah I see. Sorry to hear that.
Well, my time has come, I must take my leave.
ta ta.

‍The droplets,
Prancing upon his gentle face. Laid down, he is still.
He feels. He hears, rustling, distant chirping.
‍
The breeze,
Lightly runs its fingers across his hair, grass slightly ticklish.
Glass mind, as he reflects himself upon natures grace.

The warmth,
Blankets him tightly. He rolls to the side,
a touch from the sun soaked grass.

Like a bird returning to it’s nest, he is home.

‍Time trembles at the hand and pen,
Begins to swirl around every stroke.
Happiness neglected, purely a desire to suffer,
Suffer along the uniform flow of a river.
A shell unbreakable, pockets of gold contained within.
Best not reach a waterfall.

The race
‍
Why does he repeatedly trip when sprinting?
For his bad knee, a disservice?
Or perhaps his stubbornness? His inabilities?
Why should an artist make an artwork,
One that cannot fit in a frame?

Relocation
‍
He yearns a change.


Change came. it just took some time.
For he no longer yearns, now loathes.


Change, again. He begins to find comfort in the darkness.
He settles, takes a penultimate breath.


Stagnation. Stagnation. Stagnation.


There was no change, he was there.
A barren tree, a dusty bookshelf, a dying flame.
He yearns.

The restful child, so pure and naïve.
Amidst strolling through the giving world,
A stab! A stab! O he has been stabbed!
His back, O so stained! Bloodied with maturation.
Laid amongst suffering and tears with contempt, he clenches.
Clenching hard, an epiphanic emergence.
Rising, head down, tarnished hand running down his side.
Innocence ceased.

The orange and the butterfly
‍
Ignorant, the pleasure short-lasting,
For the orange was ripe.
Distanced, a flutter across her sight,
The fruits of labour, ready for harvest.
Disguised, a glittering raven, impatient,
Turned sour.

Futility
‍
His former self re-emerged, It is April.
Masses flowing over the Harbour Bridge, so many,
For these fragments have not unlost so many.
Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep
Bloop.
The man who held the world,
Held the world with her clench.
A chair, she was sat, a furnished throne
For the restful dawn was overthrown.
O why, o why! Why have they repeated!
I was saved! But saved for this?
O I shall be a rock!
A rock among the pool.

Note #1
‍
"No cap bro it was there, that was it.
You gotta trust g, it wasn't just a feeling.
Nahhh, we all saw it, except for you, don't you understand?
I promise I'm not gaslighting, at this point its objectively true."

"What?"

Here
‍
Passed by, figures, abound.
Shadows like remnants when I look around.
sterile, weak, holds the pen.
fragmented skies on the ground.
I start to wonder when,
When, when, when will I!
Will I?

Comes the night
‍
Leaves scattered among the stars,
Moonlight glimmering, blankets the sea.
Make a wish, for he has died.
It has wilted now, so please sleep tight.

Awe
‍
The tender touch from the beach
Upon your soul,
Puts me at awe.

Bro...
‍
Bro... This is absolute bangers.
I can't believe we've done it right! We've actually done it!
Like g, we started from there, and now we're here!
Bro?

Introspection

Thoughts infiltrate, they bring me away.
As I lay on my bed,
One day I'll face the dead.
However, I shall never falter and I shall stay.

The other day

The other day I went for a walk along the park.
It was nice. It was spring, the flowers had blossomed.
There was a need for me to reconnect with nature,
It felt like a calling.
Calling of what? My magnanimity lacked.

Drip drip drip
Speckles of him, sunk, strokes with flair.
Creation like no other, admiring its niceties.
His fidelity to his brush, tainted, passed to the others.
o revivify him! o revivify him!
For he has sunk!
The musty lake, chained core.
He feels for himself, eyes gazed at the shore.
Trickling down, droplets,
drip drip drip