Last but not least, here’s our prompt for the day (optional, as always). Start by taking a look at these three short poems by Bill Knott. Now, try writing a short poem (or a few, if you’re inspired) that follows the beats of a classic joke. Emphasize the interplay between the form of the poem – such as the line breaks – and the punchline.
Every time,
We met,
We exchange jokes,
Laughing to,
Our heart content,
Until it is no longer,
A joke,
When I started to catch,
A feeling.
Hi friends and readers,
Happy holidays and we are counting down to the new year. One of the buzzing words that happened in 2022 is ChatGPT. In simple language, it is quite an advanced chatbot that is really impressive!
So, I had to experiment with a lot of things with ChatGPT like asking different types of questions, asking for tips, and reviewing works. One of them is sharing a few of my poems and asking ChatGPT to write a poem. The poem is based on my previous shared poems.
I will share the poems it is based on below. Here is the poem written by ChatGPT.
A soul yearns for fulfillment,
From the sound of music in the air,
Euphoria that we all wish to last,
Until the old soul can no longer hear.
It was a hot and humid day,
A ceiling fan wasn’t enough,
The steady wind blew,
Like a temporary comfort,
On a beach with serenity,
Until it was too cold,
Followed by heavy rain.
He is not mysterious,
Nor does he want to be,
He is mostly reserved,
Hiding behind a silhouette,
He has much to say,
Yet spoken shortly with emojis,
He is nothing,
But a lost soul,
Walking on a crumbled path,
A man deprived of everything.
Each person yearns for something different,
Music, comfort, or a sense of self,
But we all seek a sense of peace,
To find our place in this world.
The last stanza took me by surprise. It is definitely written on its own yet has a similar style and feel as my poems.
The poems I’ve shared with ChatGPT are;
There is so much more to talk about the ability of ChatGPT. But, for now, what do you think?
NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2020
envelope, mug, pills, books, papers, boxes, sunlight, flowers, wires, cats
I envelop trust in an envelope,
A mug of coffee feels like a hug,
Looking at pills like bills,
To read books but a glance it took,
All these mess with papers and drapers,
Like boxes filled with paradoxes,
I need the warm sunlight not the cold spite,
Like the blossoming flowers with powers,
Yet, I get tangled in wires, tires,
Slothful like the cats ignoring the rats.
Some days are crazy,
Some days are lazy,
Some days are pity,
Some days are maybe,
As I looked up,
Or down,
To the high blue sky,
Or to the low green ground,
I am still confused,
Filled of uncertainty,
Even if the world does not depend on me,
I still cannot figure it out,
“Where to eat for lunch?”
Have you looked outside the window?
Maybe the door or the house?
Far away from the shadow,
When the time stopped you can’t browse,
Then tell me,
How could you see the fortunate,
Or the unfortunate,
When your eyes shut and you always late,
Silly, that you can’t figure it out,
Then you taunt for a bout,
You act strong like a stout,
But my punches keeps you knocked out,
No, I am not really angry,
Just letting off steam and spare energy,
Plus all these words and creativity,
I can’t store them personally,
Life is harsh and everyone else too,
So, think better on what you can do,
Hi all,
Note that this is a post that has been in my draft since January. I was in a struggle with no chance of winning, well I was wrong. I haven’t win the war yet but the victory in the countless battles strengthened me.
Therefore, I am sharing this as a reminder for myself and to share how dreadful the feeling was at that time.
Thank you.
I think, this will be my last post. I am retiring, not as a writer but as a living breathing thing.
I have been struggling too long, too long that I don’t know why I’m still here. Too long that I don’t have any more reasons to reason with my inner self, “Why am I still here?”. I am too tired to argue again about it.
Family? No.
Friends? No.
Love? No.
Work? No.
Future? No.
Hell and eternal damnation? No.
It is too tough to keep going only to be hopeful and telling myself that everything going to be alright. Everything will eventually work out. No. It doesn’t work that way. The situation and surrounding is just too ridiculous. It is petty too.
My effort? I tried. Many times.
I learned to accept. Doesn’t work.
I learned to forgive. Doesn’t work.
I learned to love. Doesn’t work.
I learned to better person. Doesn’t work.
I learned to believe. Doesn’t work.
I learned to fear. Doesn’t work.
I learned to trust. Doesn’t work.
I learned to forget. Doesn’t work.
I learned too much that it drove me crazy.
Until the very end, my inner self still want to reason with me. I had enough. Too much conflict in my head and it is too tiring. Not to mention the conflicts outside my head.
I can’t function properly.
I can’t breath properly.
I can’t love properly.
I can’t live properly.
I can’t. I won’t.
I gave up. Too long… Too long…
For my last words, I am not apologizing. I want to say my gratitude for keeping me this long. I had wished for it since I was 10 and I never get it. I was not brave enough to take it myself. I envy the others who decide to do it. Thank you.
“I tried and I did not fail. I just stopped and took a long stop.”
Comes wind and the rain,
With gushing leaves and droplets,
No more dry laundries.
What time it is?
Is it morning?
Or lunch time?
Or perhaps dinner?
Oh I’m pretty sure it’s not Fall,
What am I talking about?
It is definitely December,
There are no flowers around,
What time it is?
Is it dawn?
Or it is midday?
Definitely not twilight,
Oh silly,
I have no idea,
I have tried many ways,
From the shadow of a stick to digital,
What time it is?
Because I need to watch the time.
#NaPoWriMo2019 Day 15: write your own dramatic monologue. It doesn’t have to be quite as serious as Browning or Shakespeare, of course, but try to create a sort of specific voice or character that can act as the “speaker” of your poem, and that could be acted by someone reciting the poem.
Happy writing!
I always wander,
About dip loaf,
How dip can one bee,
Fall a gain, and a gain,
From all the miss stakes,
From all the hard brakes,
One can all ways fine it a gain,
Finding confidential,
Finding strange,
Finding treason,
Two all ways fine the puff a gain,
Is it plausible for me to be leaf,
Whiff my broken hard and sold.
#NaPoWriMo2019 Day 14: write a poem that incorporates homophones, homographs, and homonyms, or otherwise makes productive use of English’s ridiculously complex spelling rules and opportunities for mis-hearings and mis-readings.
Now is 4.0,
Disrupting and game changer,
Being stupid remains.
I am going haiku on this one.
#NaPoWriMo2019 Day 8: think about the argot of a particular job or profession, and see how you can incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives your poem. This rather astonishing list of professional slang terms might help you get into the mood. Or, if you work a white-collar job, perhaps you can take inspiration from one of the business jargon phrases that seem to predominate in corporate environments
Write Ally! Write! 