Borrowed Words

I was talking to friends about AI scrubbing the internet for content and I figured I would test what it could do.

What emerged took one word-grief, one click, medium, and two defaults

The poem was generated in less than 3 seconds

Spooky.

https://aipoemgenerator.io/

Grief is a heavy coat,
That you can’t take off.
It clings to you all day,
And whispers in your sleep.

It’s a hollow in your chest,
Where laughter used to live.
A silent, empty space,
That echoes with a name.

The world keeps spinning on,
But you are standing still.
Watching colours fade to grey,
On a distant, lonely hill.

But sometimes, through the clouds,
A single ray will shine.
A memory, a gentle breeze,
A reminder of the love that’s thine.

And slowly, bit by bit,
The coat begins to fray.
The colours start to bloom again,
A little brighter every day.

Held

Twice, maybe three times, I have brought them inside, folded as they were, in sheets off the line

Catching them involves prayer and patience then you scoop them inside the soft of your palms

Hold them, safe and warm until they are

Back in the sunlight

This is the moment of Grace

When they should and can run free

But instead of this they turn and sit on my shoulder

As though they have found a true friend

Love Letters

Dearest,

You remember better than I do the letter I once wrote to the justletsbefriendsboy.

Not like you—so far out of my league—worlds wake at the sound of your voice.

I want to squish your check sideways and demand your attention like the petulant but well-meaning child I am and love—

Grandma!! Look!

How does one grasp the attention of the Eternal Beloved?

Surprisingly easily because you love us so.

A really good listener

I want more like Christmas morning

Waiting for your voice

In the House,

Love.

I teeter, I wobble

Never having impeccable balance

I swing between hope and chaos

One part of me veering toward extremes strangely reminiscent of sci-fi movies and teen melodrama—

Attempt to reproduce the metaphysical places that come to you in your dreams

Buy all the thrift store wedding dresses and parade about in them!

Become a true cave or island dweller…

I have become obsessive about the time

In Diomedes (big and little)

Howland and Baker Islands

He brings me rain to ease my heartbreak

And stories he has told with aplomb for millennia

A persistent widow

A mustard tree

A cry that goes out at midnight

And all those angels

Poised, always poised

To bring home those he loves