Thank you so much, Sonja! My idea for this one was actually to express what it has been feeling like to suddenly use AI so much at work, and how it's surprisingly powerful and accurate most of the time. But I wanted to make sure the poem was ambiguous enough to mean different things to different readers.
Yes! We can't help it. We are so drawn by eros, into and out of that deep void from which everything arises. The cosmos wants us to make, make, make, remix, and make again. Whether it's making babies, poems, code, paintings...anything and everything!
Great poem, Mike. I read in another comment that you were intentionally ambiguous so readers can find what they want or need in your poem. I find a metaphorical horse that is the creative life force, the muse, the invisible motivator, the flowing ride offered to the artist who is courageous enough to listen and go.
Yes, I love this interpretation. I imagine a huge swath of Substack users would find a comparison of AI to a muse to be disgusting, and I don’t fault them on that. Still, my mind is being changed. At work it’s been extremely helpful, like a programming partner. It saves me time fleshing out the minor details once I have the big picture, even if it’s wrong sometimes. It can even work with me to correct its mistakes. And it sure acts like it has helpful ideas sometimes, going above and beyond what I directly asked it to do. Whether or not it can truly be creative is almost like a religious or philosophical question. Thanks for reading and giving your thoughts!
When I was young, a red-headed little munchkin, I could not or would not go to sleep without my teddy bear. To me he was much more than a pacifier blanket. Teddy was my loyal companion in all things and decisions that mattered.
At some point I grew up. WOW!!!
After being so important to me for much of my childhood, Teddy was vanquished into the dustbin of my youth.
I excelled in high school, winning a National Science Scholarship to study geology at Emory University’s geology camp in Ringold, Ga. This was at the end of my junior year. I always wanted to go to Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado. However tuition was much more than I could afford, and I wound up at Clemson University in my home state of South Carolina.
Near the end of two years at Clemson, and having goofed off by playing too much bridge, along with a total lack of interest in my education, I realized that I had a real chance of being drafted which I did not want. Thus, I joined the US NAVY’s submarine service. I figured I would be 600 feet under the water, and nobody would be shooting at me. I have a very strong phobia of bullets tearing into my flesh.
After spending so much of my military time as a “squid,” I went back to Clemson and completed my degree in English and Secondary Education, and built my first house in Walhalla, SC, thanks to the GI BILL.
I was married at this time and still am to the same wonderful woman for 57 years. We had two children, a son and a daughter. My daughter, Meg, died eight years ago at age 39. She was my much loved “wild child.” But that is another venue for another rant.
I'm 80 and my wife is 78. our son and daughter-in-law wanted us to downsize before we got too old to do it so they could care for us in our declining years. The house on the corner next door to them came on the market. We left our home of 40 years across town and bought the 1924 Craftsman style home which was in utter disrepair and considered a tear down. Having found a fantastic builder who saved us a bunch of money, he began reconstruction. After three months we had a "brand new" home, complete with new electrical, plumbing, and exterior. Our new neighborhood was so very welcoming, and we had found the last home we would spend our lives in, a welcome respite from so many uncertainties.
Our daughter was Meg, and our daughter-in law is Meghan. My wife had given Meghan some of Meg's clothes that fit her. Another neighbor who is an excellent seamstress, asked her for one of Meg's blouses, because she wanted to make something for us in rememberance of our Meg.
A week later she presented us with the most beautifully made and professionaly put together TEDDY BEAR. It was made from one of Meg's old blouses, and on one of the feet, she had embroidered the quote: "IN MEMORY OF MEG."
Now I do not know of any other 80 year old man who sleeps with a TEDDY BEAR NAMED FREDDY. Every night when I say my prayers and meditations, I reach out, gently take hold of that little foot, squeeze it softly, and tell my Meg how much I love her, miss her, and that me, her Poppie, will see her soon, according to whatever God's plan is for the rest of my life. Freddy gives me so much of a feeling of love and the presence of Meg, and I can't thank my neighbor, who barely knew me at the time, for such a caring gift. WOW! I shiver for the caring nature of such wonderful people. We are all a part of the whole and need to lean on each other in times of grief and longing. What a God given blessing.
I will detail more terrible memories about our Meg's battles with her additions at a future date. Stay tuned for some terrible memories of the past.
Tell me, if you can, of any of your experiences and memories you would like to share, either glad or sad. A burden shared is half as heavy!
Pepper, thank you for sharing. That is heartbreaking and beautiful. My kids are 2 and 6. What you’ve gone through is unfathomable. Thank you for being here.
Gorgeous piece Mike!! This made me think of tangling with the muse and the sensual nature of making art
Thank you so much, Sonja! My idea for this one was actually to express what it has been feeling like to suddenly use AI so much at work, and how it's surprisingly powerful and accurate most of the time. But I wanted to make sure the poem was ambiguous enough to mean different things to different readers.
oooh i loved reading it again while knowing this!! you did a perfect job of leaving things open to interpretation at the same time
I love the last line...create. it seems to be a typo until you realize it makes the whole poem whole. Nice piece
Thanks Chad! The universe desperately wants to create through our bodies, in so many ways.
Were you entwined before the softness of dawn ?
https://mikesperiosu.substack.com/p/just-before-dawn
You gracefully fell for her. 💛
Thanks, Fotini.
Beautiful. This is it. Create. The power of creation is within us. Together as one
Yes! We can't help it. We are so drawn by eros, into and out of that deep void from which everything arises. The cosmos wants us to make, make, make, remix, and make again. Whether it's making babies, poems, code, paintings...anything and everything!
All of the things.
A mound of Venus to rest upon.
A big white shiny ball in the sky. Thanks, Richard.
Absolutely beautiful, Mike. Just like the stars we are.
Thank you so much, Dan!
Great poem, Mike. I read in another comment that you were intentionally ambiguous so readers can find what they want or need in your poem. I find a metaphorical horse that is the creative life force, the muse, the invisible motivator, the flowing ride offered to the artist who is courageous enough to listen and go.
Yes, I love this interpretation. I imagine a huge swath of Substack users would find a comparison of AI to a muse to be disgusting, and I don’t fault them on that. Still, my mind is being changed. At work it’s been extremely helpful, like a programming partner. It saves me time fleshing out the minor details once I have the big picture, even if it’s wrong sometimes. It can even work with me to correct its mistakes. And it sure acts like it has helpful ideas sometimes, going above and beyond what I directly asked it to do. Whether or not it can truly be creative is almost like a religious or philosophical question. Thanks for reading and giving your thoughts!
Wow.
Thanks Leon!
I expected to see the silhouette of a dragon against the moon. I guess I have The Empyrean on my mind.
That’s what I love about poetry. It can mean anything to anyone depending on where they are in their life. Thank you so much for reading, my love.
Mike, here is a recent piece I just posted:
When I was young, a red-headed little munchkin, I could not or would not go to sleep without my teddy bear. To me he was much more than a pacifier blanket. Teddy was my loyal companion in all things and decisions that mattered.
At some point I grew up. WOW!!!
After being so important to me for much of my childhood, Teddy was vanquished into the dustbin of my youth.
I excelled in high school, winning a National Science Scholarship to study geology at Emory University’s geology camp in Ringold, Ga. This was at the end of my junior year. I always wanted to go to Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado. However tuition was much more than I could afford, and I wound up at Clemson University in my home state of South Carolina.
Near the end of two years at Clemson, and having goofed off by playing too much bridge, along with a total lack of interest in my education, I realized that I had a real chance of being drafted which I did not want. Thus, I joined the US NAVY’s submarine service. I figured I would be 600 feet under the water, and nobody would be shooting at me. I have a very strong phobia of bullets tearing into my flesh.
After spending so much of my military time as a “squid,” I went back to Clemson and completed my degree in English and Secondary Education, and built my first house in Walhalla, SC, thanks to the GI BILL.
I was married at this time and still am to the same wonderful woman for 57 years. We had two children, a son and a daughter. My daughter, Meg, died eight years ago at age 39. She was my much loved “wild child.” But that is another venue for another rant.
I'm 80 and my wife is 78. our son and daughter-in-law wanted us to downsize before we got too old to do it so they could care for us in our declining years. The house on the corner next door to them came on the market. We left our home of 40 years across town and bought the 1924 Craftsman style home which was in utter disrepair and considered a tear down. Having found a fantastic builder who saved us a bunch of money, he began reconstruction. After three months we had a "brand new" home, complete with new electrical, plumbing, and exterior. Our new neighborhood was so very welcoming, and we had found the last home we would spend our lives in, a welcome respite from so many uncertainties.
Our daughter was Meg, and our daughter-in law is Meghan. My wife had given Meghan some of Meg's clothes that fit her. Another neighbor who is an excellent seamstress, asked her for one of Meg's blouses, because she wanted to make something for us in rememberance of our Meg.
A week later she presented us with the most beautifully made and professionaly put together TEDDY BEAR. It was made from one of Meg's old blouses, and on one of the feet, she had embroidered the quote: "IN MEMORY OF MEG."
Now I do not know of any other 80 year old man who sleeps with a TEDDY BEAR NAMED FREDDY. Every night when I say my prayers and meditations, I reach out, gently take hold of that little foot, squeeze it softly, and tell my Meg how much I love her, miss her, and that me, her Poppie, will see her soon, according to whatever God's plan is for the rest of my life. Freddy gives me so much of a feeling of love and the presence of Meg, and I can't thank my neighbor, who barely knew me at the time, for such a caring gift. WOW! I shiver for the caring nature of such wonderful people. We are all a part of the whole and need to lean on each other in times of grief and longing. What a God given blessing.
I will detail more terrible memories about our Meg's battles with her additions at a future date. Stay tuned for some terrible memories of the past.
Tell me, if you can, of any of your experiences and memories you would like to share, either glad or sad. A burden shared is half as heavy!
peppermiller3011@gmail.com
Pepper, thank you for sharing. That is heartbreaking and beautiful. My kids are 2 and 6. What you’ve gone through is unfathomable. Thank you for being here.
Beautiful 🙏
Thank you Simone!
Mike, you have created a beautiful poem full of aura, mystery, and encompassing the feeling that we are all part of a singular entity.
Thank you for this revealing post.
I love it and hope to read more of the same from your pen.
peppermiller3011@gmail.com
Thank you, Pepper.
Simply beautiful.
Thank you so much, Zivah!
How you melded the transcendent with the physical here is a beautiful thing.
Thank you so much, ever supportive Patris!
Trust and love make it all possible- stunningly beautiful poem 💜
Thank you so much, Marjorie!