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Savva Emanon Apr 7
I. On the Nature of Smiles
A smile is a sneaky, invisible thing,
It creeps from the lips without flutter or wing,
But lo! when it lands on a stranger’s dull day,
It tickles the sorrow and shoos it away.

It travels through coffee shops, crosswalks, and queues,
It softens the sternest of daily-day news.
It has no real price, no receipt, no command,
And yet it could cradle the world in its hand.

II. The Grand and Glorious Hug
Now don’t underestimate (please, if you can)
The power of arms - be ye woman or man,
To wrap someone up like a parcel of peace,
To hush all the mayhem and grant them release.

A hug isn’t just for when sorrow attacks,
It’s also for moments when courage just lacks.
So squeeze with conviction, be warm, be profound,
A hug is a poem that needs not a sound.

III. Words of the Small-but-Mighty Kind
“Oh dear,” said the teacup, “I fear I may chip,”
Till a kind word arrived with a stiff upper lip.
“You're perfect,” it said. “You still hold the tea.”
And the teacup beamed back with revived dignity.

A phrase, just a whisper, can shatter the storm,
Can nudge someone’s heart back to hopeful and warm.
So toss kind words freely like petals or rain,
They land where they land, and they soften the pain.

IV. The Call to Now (and Never to Wait)
Oh yes, you may ponder, you may delay,
But kindness, my dear, was never that way.
It’s not for tomorrow or someday or soon,
It thrives in the morning, the dusk, and the noon.

So don’t be a waiter in life’s busy line,
Be wildly, ridiculously, wonderfully kind.
You never shall know what your ripple will do,
But I promise you this: it starts right with you.
Does AI have potential?
Yup, absolutely. It could be great!
Will it make people's life better?
Probably not....

Like every other
Disruptive technology before it
Seems to me that AI is here only
To improve the lives of the
Few tycoons that own it

True, AI will cut costs like crazy
Well, guess what? We're people
Not outdated expendable assets
We're not costs to be cut

'Oh, but I'm a high end specialist'
Make no mistake, sunshine
AI's after your job too

I suppose I've become
Sort of an AI luddite now
So follow me, good friends
And together we'll trash
Every big tech datacenter

And who knows?
We might even have
A billionaire's head or two...
Grab your pitchfork and light your torches! It'll be a hell of a party!!
Rew Apr 1
Some rely on cleaning machines  
the vacuum to **** up the dust,  
and one to scrub floors gleaming clean  
replacing same when those get bust.  
A hammer, these, to crack that nut  
as I think of the leccy price  
you can hear me go tut tut tut
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

No smart sweat-top, nor cut off jeans  
but **** nekked I swing my ****,  
to make dust motes fly in sun beams  
my mind flies with these, as it must...  
momentarily, till I'm pushed  
by brush in hand and in a trice  
I'm back to Earth to strut my stuff  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

A cloth, Acdo, a mop some bleach  
my **** high nose down as I scrub,  
recalling grandma's quick brief screach  
quickly cured by her back-hand rub.  
The bleach does it to me, I blub,  
at memories that sting enticed,  
as I rinse out my cloth in the tub,  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

Not for me the machine's hub-hub  
If offered I say " ain't my vice "  
I'll keep my Aladdin's lamp to rub  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.
Nishu Mathur Mar 29
It’s an addiction, an affliction,
And I don’t know what to do,
For I am madly and deeply,
In love with Sudoku.

It’s unnerving, disturbing,
And I am going all cuckoo,
For I can’t take my hands off
A game of Sudoku.

In the morning, I’m yawning,
But my fingers are all glued,
To a pen on a Daily,
Immersed in Sudoku.

A passion, an obsession —
With numbers just a few,
Oh I can’t get enough,
Of this wretched Sudoku.

One to nine, how I pine,
For these numbers in a queue,
On my phone all I see is,
A game of Sudoku.

I run late, miss my date,
In a mess through and through,
My heart full of digits.
And head, of Sudoku.

An attraction, a distraction,
I sigh and sob and rue,
To be so in love,
With a game of Sudoku.

It gets worse, now a verse,
Such a long poem too—
Oh me, oh my,
All for Sudoku.
Written in 2014. No longer addicted but still love it. Know when to stop
neth jones Mar 30
so much squawk and squall    too many people echo the walls
abrasive  and i've no block but to ingest it
wrappered and trapped in this room-without-imagination
this is fusion   a batter of coms and intel i cannot separate and
rooms instrument clamps me   pressioned still          
                         and inflates me like a berry
my vision is expelled                      
my teeth pop out    my ears whine and whistle
my pores fire out tiny dirt pellets                    
                    and my friends duck for cover

all the bombast and sonic din that entered
and all the gases combust from within                          
         I go from ‘surprising’ and ‘absurd’
                                to full on percussion and detonation

what did they do   to deserve a friend like me ?
it’ll be some time    before they enjoy a good meal in company
one without p.t.s.d.   revulsion
and  (without a choice)  in memory of me
Rew Mar 22
Though the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed      
it made its nest among sharp cacti plants    
then caws out oomegoolies very loud,    
    
On return to his nest ***** and proud,    
to bill and coo to find then squeak, " I can't "    
tho' the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed...    
    
So he lived, celibate, not on a  cloud    
no Ma to confide, no sis, Pa, or aunt      
tho' he cawed out oomegoolies very loud,    
    
And no mate to mate that he could've wowed    
his world lacked even a sniff of talent      
tho' the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed,    
    
That's why you'll not see these flock like a crowd    
and twitchers sightings are now somewhat scant    
tho' he cawed oomegoolies very loud,    
    
Wrap him stiff, at last, in his spiky shroud    
There was no hope for this would be gallant,    
Tho' he cawed oomegoolies very loud    
The Oomegoolie bird was well endowed.
Aaron Beedle Mar 17
Tuesday: **** was black and smelled of sulphur.

oh wait, this is my **** diary.

For those of you interested,
I'm indigested. Well, I suppose we're all indigested.

I'm off the water, on lemon and lime
and wouldn't you know it combined
with my strange state of internal affairs
to create a concoction that's up in flares.

They found undigested
gum and erasers
an unopened packet of quavers
several loose fillings
and an unopened pack of heavy duty nasal razors.

Alright I might be embellishing the truth a little
the situation's been fickle,
but my research mostly finds that
eating is the issue.
About: Lifelong irritable bowl syndrome. Yup.
Aaron Beedle Mar 17
I'm a sadist, guilt and remorse evadist
put my dark twist, on the folk
down in their gravies
resurrect em, clambering
shackled remains,
liberate thee,
run free in my domain.
De lib er ately
gliding, I'm death's author
and the last note
in the cacophony slaughter.
I'm the angel of death
and as you draw your last breath
know that I'm trying my best
to compensate for this theft
with more thieving, your grieving's
making my eyes sting
no reprieve in
believing, I'm only deceiving
in the heart of your very own body and mind
an inner evil, its seething
you know you can't hide
so break down and surrender
call on your defenders
and when the heavens aren't parted
the party gets started
there's no angel, descending
smiting at will
just my corpses, feasting
I'll send you the bill.
About: A vampire bragging about bringing the dead back to life.
Bonnie Mar 6
Fried Chicken
An artist with skills quite prolific,
Found fried chicken to be soporific.
He’d sketch with great flair,
Then fall off his chair,
Dreaming of drumsticks, terrific.

Colour
A painter with hues he found drab,
mixed colour in the shell of a crab.
He’d mix with a grin,
Shades of cerulean,
And pretended it came from the lab.

Blue hue
A gardener who brewed his own ***,
drank too much and found his face numb.
he hadn't a clue,
why he turned a blue hue,
but it contrasted with his green thumb.

Diet
A salesman with charm and a grin
Sold a cure to make me look thin
"Try it today, keep flab far away"
But my scales are not taken in!
Every now and then I play with limericks, they are pretty low effort but fun.
© BonnieBayGallery 2025
Bonnie Mar 4
You are my prime,
Unique, indivisible even unconventional
mostly odd.
Sometimes irrational
Yet composite and complex
Never improper!
You are my constant.
A value unchangeable.
Uniform, and consistent.
Never have I found you average
Or mean.
Bit of fun with mathematical terms.
© BonnieBayGallery 2025
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