A vibrant sparkle asked my eyes to meet,
My ears were filled with melody so sweet,
A fragrance gripped my joyous nostrils tight
And tender touch transformed my gait to flight.

I almost lost my mighty marvel once –
I let it slip for I’m a dopey dunce
Who simply tasted bliss he hadn’t known
And not familiar flavors of alone.

But grander gains are made in times of strife;
Atone and you may also find your life.

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Submit I won’t! I knock and knock to probe,
She comes out – dazed and drowsy, in a robe –
To the big bang, emitting light and heat
That make my heart expand and quarks submit.

Amazed, I stare and stare and can’t believe
That not just beauty pure I do perceive;
As Saturn’s, halo is around her raised,
Her eyes like Venus, gripping me, amazed.

And though we launched with time dilation gap,
I gravitate towards her from the app.

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‘No flower,’ fretted Sniff, ‘has fragrance now!’
And Hearken moaned, ‘All music moos as cow!’
And Lick declared, ‘Like dirt desserts all taste!’
‘All colors,’ Ogle owned, ‘dissolved in haste!’

But us he heeds not, holds his flame still hot,
To purge her portrait out his pulse – cannot!
Recalls her eyes, her mouth, her ears, her nose;
Laments the loss of long forgotten doze.

Away he would not walk from what him broke;
Retains the rhythm that can rhymes evoke.

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When sudden gentle breeze unchained my mind,
My limbs were free to search and learn and find
The surge to truth. On top I gazed at fire
While prancing puppets shed their shades so dire.

I caught a glimpse of outer alien light
And ran towards it in suspense and fright.
My sight was dazed by clarity at first,
And then it fed my infant knowledge-thirst.

But this throughout my flight I failed to see:
Without you, imitation all would be.

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Ensconced in tender limbs she shyly shrinks,
I rush to lay her out as Giza’s Sphinx,
Attach my lips to hers in hot desire,
And light our burning passion till we tire.

Each steamy kiss thus drowns me further deep
In mountain high in which no woe will creep,
Nor can abyss to trauma drag me down,
I fade away with blows of hazy crown.

Yet after all orgasmic rounds are flown,
She leaves and back again I am alone.

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“You can,” assuaged the tender sylph on right,
“Prevent the fall to spleen; you can yet fight
For fields of bliss no harvest will exhaust.
So, as my counter say, ‘all is not lost!’”

“The hive is full of honey, Queenless King,
Release your bustling bees and let them sting!”
“All sweetness tastes insipid on loveless tongue;
Your buzzing ring forever must be sung.”

“Confess I shall,” the man began to muse,
“Predestined is my free will Her to choose.”

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I saw you once and Kant fast seemed to chime:
Your beauty overwhelmed, then turned sublime.
My heart thus veered from blurry Turner’s Storm
To bright euphoric Dawn in shape and form.

I saw you once and felt that artist spark:
The Courting Couple in van Gogh’s old park;
Millet’s Potato Planters harmony;
Or praying Angelus in symphony.

I’d be the Sunrise in Monet’s rich hue:
A color, complementary of you.

The post I Saw You Once appeared first on Human and AI Art.

Idealist? At such I scoff and scorn;
I trade the principles to which I’m sworn.
I steal, I trick, distort, pretend and cheat —
I squirmed on saintly soil to seize my seat.

Who am I? Many names conceal my brow,
I feign a smile and fabled fibs I vow,
Forbidden means of payoff is my art,
I got a lot of practice since the start.

But hate me not for what I did and do,
Forsooth, I live in every one of you.

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While tasks mundane absorbed my mind before,
My eyes were opened on a vernal shore,
Where joy could flow from sand or sky above,
And hearts again could feel the touch of love.

But Sol without a matching You would burn
The mate who false desire does not discern;
His loneliness mistakes a fantasy
For truthful love in searing ecstasy.

As droplets wash my grateful face I say
‘Farewell,’ and fresh await a brand-new day.

The post A Valediction of Yesterday’s Dawn appeared first on Human and AI Art.

The rulers wave their venal fists on stage,
The triggered masses roar with raving rage.
Forsakes its role, the press implores for gore;
Without a doubt we madly march to war.

No questions asked or ‘traitor!’ shall be shrieked;
Along the pain, intolerance has peaked.
Illume our triumphs, failures ought we hide,
No sympathy to show the other side.

At last the cannons cease the sense to dread;
When silence settles, mutely scream the dead.

The post Incitement appeared first on Human and AI Art.

The frigid night benumbs the streets with snow;
A lass is lost, she knows not where to go.
A gale removes her hat, she just might freeze;
But her I rescue, ere the flakes her seize.

The multi-headed hound confines the girl
Whose lauded grace the hearts of knights does whirl.
On mounds of skulls I stomp to reach her cry,
Behead the mutt, then hand-in-hand we fly.

Awake, I shred the yarns that Id had spun;
It’s me who needs your feats, my Lady Sun.

The post Sunstroke Fantasies appeared first on Human and AI Art.

The barren books and papers I forgo;
My eyes too restive, scouting to and fro.
Although my reason spurs to that degree,
My only wish for now is Her to see.

I chide myself, reproach for futile time,
Admit the waste of unrequited rhyme,
Yet from this gripping bench my legs can’t flee;
My only wish for now is Her to see.

Oh! There she glides! My chest! My pulse! My brain!
My only wish is Her, to see again.

The post Her to See appeared first on Human and AI Art.

With rays of wisdom she caressed my pate;
Her lustrous smile any hapless could elate.
Thus under brilliant tutelage I basked
And duly quaffed the gracious beams she tasked.

But seasons changed and time has run its course;
The clouds her view obscure from me in force.
This dusky bleakness shades my inner sect
And cold eclipse prevails as I reflect:

Will ever also I bestow on thee
That genial warmth which now does dawn on me?

The post Delightful Account appeared first on Human and AI Art.

The Lord abhors that foe (whom we not met);
With sulfur eyes to battle prompt we’re set.
From Wargs, The Countess bellows, she’s our shield;
Aghast, our basic rights to her we yield.

All sinful skeptics swiftly shall we shun;
To terror orcs, we’re told, they give new gun.
Our Nobles steer the ship, we paddle blind;
They ruled we should not irk our simple mind.

But why we toil, yet still our bellies cry,
While they on gilded bedding gorge and lie?

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While many makers tried, most never rose;
Thus History was frugal when she chose.
The mighty pen is all my gear contains;
Will sound it strive where His stout sword all reigns?

The noble Wits will lead the western sides,
Whereas The Nine will rule the east as brides.
In sync compose for edify and regale,
But only He’ll decide if I shan’t fail.

‘I can’t go on, I’ll go on,’ says one gone;
I say this too, when facing The Unknown.

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