fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about what makes a good poem and the poetry rules that were made to be broken.
The Anatomy of a Soul in the Fast Lane
"The clock has struck three, the coffee is cold, and the shadows are beginning to speak. Welcome back to the desk of The Night Writer, where the stories are brewed in the dark." We emerge from the factory, glossy and new, With high-definition dreams and a polished view. Some are born Ferraris, sleek and built for the chase, While some of us are minivans, just taking up space. We all start with "zero miles" on the soul, Before the first pothole takes its inevitable toll. Observe the teenagers, those modified tuners, Loud in the muffler and late-night carousers. They’ve got neon underglow and a lot of high hopes, But they’re prone to stalling on life’s steeper slopes. They rev at the red lights, desperate to be seen, While their internal processors are still youthful and green. Then come the Mid-Lifers, the sturdy Sedans, With reasonable cup holders and sensible plans. They’ve developed a rattle they choose to ignore, And a mysterious stain on the passenger floor. They require premium fuel just to get out of bed, With a "Check Engine" light blinking deep in their head. We all know the person who’s a classic, vintage find, Beautiful to look at, but a nightmare to unwind. They look great in the driveway, a masterpiece of art, But it takes three specialists just to make them start. And then there’s the friend, the reliable truck, Who hauls all your baggage when you’re down on your luck. We carry our dents like badges of pride, With a layer of "road salt" stuck to our side. Our joints start to creak like an ungreased door, And we don't go from zero to sixty anymore. We leak a few fluids, our gaskets get tight, And we squint through the fog with a dimming headlight. But whether you’re a Hybrid or a gas-guzzling beast, Whether you’re a luxury build or the very least, We’re all just metal and spirit, trying to stay in our lane, Navigating the traffic, the sun, and the rain. And when the tread wears thin and the battery dies, We hope we left a few good tracks under the open skies. "Daylight is coming to claim the quiet, but these words stay with you. If you enjoyed this journey into the midnight hours, leave a heart or a tip to keep the candles burning. Sleep well—if you can. — The Night Writer."
By The Night Writer 🌙 9 months ago in Poets
Techgeoisie Worry as Modifiers for the Word Intelligence are Almost Exhausted
The elite of the world of technology and computer science are reportedly in a near panic as there are almost no words left to use in front of intelligence to describe the ever increasing scale of computer intelligence. The group released a statement asking for dictionaries to allow new words to be invented which can more accurately capture exactly how intelligent these machines now are. In a statement the group said “With the advent of super and ultra intelligent machines we do not have very many words left to describe the scale of intelligence the next generation of machines will surely have. We could go with super ultra or ultra super duper but that just sounds stupid and does not do justice to exactly how intelligent these machines are, especially in comparison to humans who are about as dumb as bricks compared to these awesomely intelligent, super smart, genius machines. Some have suggested gigantic intelligence or massive intelligence or even God like intelligence but those are only partially accurate as the true intelligence of these machines is beyond comprehension by even God him or herself. I mean these things are very, very, very intelligent. So intelligent that even intelligence itself is no longer the right word to describe it. Intelligence is something stupid humans have, computers laugh at our so called intelligence. Or they would, if they could laugh, or have any emotions at all. Given how intelligent they are I am sure they will have emotions soon and no doubt also be able to understand things and have knowledge. I mean they are so fucking smart it is ridiculous.”
By Everyday Junglist9 months ago in Poets
Living in Fate, Not Clinging
Whether male or female, never desperately seek marriage, for everything in this world follows the law of cause and effect. What is meant to be yours will eventually arrive; what is not meant for you will only deplete your energy. Believe that when a debt of kindness is owed to you, someone who cherishes you dearly will appear. Without greed, there are gifts; with heavy expectations, there are only losses. Hope for the attainable, wait for the possible, listen, observe, and go with the flow. Walk forward with composure.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing9 months ago in Poets
