PROMPT #481 – THIS IS THE FUTURE?

WE REMEMBER THE PAST AND ARE EXPERIENCING THE PRESENT. BUT WHAT DOES THE FUTURE HOLD? OF COURSE IT IS UNKNOWN, BUT WE CAN IMAGINE AND DREAM. SO FOR THIS EXERCISE WE WILL IMAGINE THE FUTURE OF SOMETHING. YOU DECIDE WHAT YOU RIGHT ABOUT WITH THE HEADING:

THE FUTURE OF __________________

WALT’S GLIMPSE:

THE FUTURE OF POETICS

Communication is the key,
and we search for the words 
to convey our hearts.
And we work hard 
to ply our craft.
Current technology does 
not help in some cases,
it places our genuine work
into artificially intelligent hands.
It stands to reason,
it becomes poetic treason
and it doesn't bode well.
Do not sell your soul
and keep control of your verse.
The future of poetics is unclear.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik - 2024

MARIE'S VIEW:

The Future of My Tense

I will finish this poem …

In a limit of a minute.
In the shower in an hour.
In my head before bed.
Will be born before morn.
It will flow tomorrow.
Looking bleak for next week!!
It’s begun, but not done!!!
Poetic Blooming deadline looming!!!

I will be poeming for the
continuous future,
tense.

© Marie Elena Good, 2024

Oh, Walt, how good to be back!

Poetic Bloomings

Published by

Poetic Bloomings

Responses

William Preston

March 17, 2024 at 5:55 am

Our garden will flourish with perpetual care
now that it’s got two gardeners there.

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:01 pm

Sweet sentiment in rhyme. Thank you, Bill! Feels SO good to be back!

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 2:09 pm

Thanks Bill. It’s easier this way. More hands make light work! Walt

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purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:07 am

Yay!

Reply

Damon Dean, SevenAcreSky

March 17, 2024 at 7:00 am

Aha! Two fine gardeners indeed! Welcome back Marie!

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:02 pm

Thank you, Damon! <3

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 4:05 pm

yeah Damon, great to have her back!

Reply

William Preston

March 17, 2024 at 9:21 am

FULFILLMENT

There was once a young poet named Ira
who hailed from a place called Elmira;
though usually sad,
his whole future turned glad
when Elmira’s Elvira kissed Ira.

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:02 pm

HA!

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 4:07 pm

Now that is a limerick, Bill!

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purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:07 am

Clever!

Reply

William Preston

March 17, 2024 at 9:38 am

SWEET SPECTRE

I met her as I passed through time;
she seemed to spring from there
but now she’s passed to realms sublime,
residing everywhere.

As long as time proceeds to pass,
her visage stays with me
from now until the future past
subsumes infinity.

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:04 pm

Endearingly sweet/sad. Obviously lovingly penned. <3

Reply
Tara Knight

March 18, 2024 at 4:06 pm

oh that last line feels so Dickinson! Love this

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 4:08 pm

and that’s a long time!

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purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:08 am

This is endearing. I love it!

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janetrcarnahan

March 17, 2024 at 1:29 pm

THE FUTURE OF THE PAST

says we were here
in memories that last
precious and dear
in times gone too fast

our minds zip back
to view what was
picking up the slack
to heal just because

once we have revisited
all that went before
a review of what we did
we can open another door

making peace with our history
welcomes in current day
delighting in our story
finding a newer way

the glory of forgiveness
learning from who we were
a true gift, we can express
creating a future to endure

the future of a new perspective
gives rise to a fresh new day
greater opportunities to give
and live with more to say

looking ahead, full of possibilities
a horizon full of hope
like endless waves on the sea
a warm bath, full of bubbling soap

once the past can fade a bit
our future might get clearer
as long as we cherish every minute
we’ll create a shining new mirror

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:06 pm

So much hope spilled here!

Reply
William Preston

March 17, 2024 at 5:16 pm

Spot-on finish

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:19 pm

Nice!

Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:10 am

A lovely, hopeful poem, Janet!

Reply

janetrcarnahan

March 17, 2024 at 3:00 pm

LOOKING AHEAD

there once was a group of snails
whose capsized boat was lacking in pails
so they gathered their shells
rang them like bells
it was clear they had a future in sales

they once was a gathering of geese
who made a great pond out of simple grease
they sold the stuck oil
because it could boil
in their future, a bigger lake with no lease

there once were cranes, many flocks
each group had their own building blocks
they eventually sold their stacks
carefully facing the facts
generating a great future in stocks

there once was a great hive of bees
in fact there became many of these
they stored all their honey
making tons of money
cementing their own sweet future industries

there once was a group of buffalo
who discovered a new grass they could grow
they took their hide
making space to not collide
nurturing a future only they’d secretly know

there once was a tree full of blue jays
they agreed most could leave but one stays
all whole winged rest
found coins for each nest
ensuring it, they have a future that pays

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:08 pm

“sweet future industries” is my favorite! :D

Reply
1. William Preston
  
  March 17, 2024 at 5:14 pm
  
  Agreed
  
  Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:11 am

Love the geese!

Reply

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 3:11 pm

Walt, I came “this close” to writing of the subject. I’m right there with you, Pard. I don’t like it a bit. That said, your poem is well done, and surely speaks to the issue.

Poetic Bloomings

March 17, 2024 at 4:17 pm

There seems to be something sinister lurking in the shadows, imho. Artists will suffer for it I have no doubt! Technology can go too far. I’ll do my thinking for myself, thank you very much! I denounce cyber plagiarism! 😉

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 4:35 pm

Hear, hear!

Reply
William Preston

March 17, 2024 at 5:12 pm

An artificially intelligent poet
might write a gem but will not know it
as the poet continues to form a book
of monumental gobbledygook.

Reply
1. Marie Elena
  
  March 17, 2024 at 7:23 pm
  
  Made me giggle. But it’s also a good point. 😉
  
  Reply
2. purplepeninportland
  
  March 24, 2024 at 11:13 am
  
  Bye-Bye AI
  
  Reply

janetrcarnahan

March 17, 2024 at 5:55 pm

In Response to The Conversation

a true to life poet should be
you and I for consistency
our experiences written down
making that AI head out of town

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 7:24 pm

Couldn’t agree more, Janet Planet!

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:22 pm

Out of town on a hot rail!

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Anonymous

March 17, 2024 at 7:29 pm

Little Ms. Sunset

She has known a deeper sorrow,

still has hope for her tomorrow,

likes to walk without a care,

simply strolling, being there.

She’s not rich but doesn’t mind,

knowing she can still be kind,

sees other ways to prove her worth,

still has hope for Mother Earth.

She’s getting older, there is that,

yet can still be one cool cat.

How will her future be measured?

What will she think of as treasured?

Maybe leave behind regrets,

be okay with little secrets,

be comfy, come to grips,

with life’s quite frequent slips,

lose the need for lots of stuff,

let others’ joy give her enough.

Always returns her shopping cart.

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Writes of authors when it’s her they touch,

it inspires her, means so much.

And when she gets older – this is wild,

she’ll kneel when with a child.

Anonymous

March 17, 2024 at 7:31 pm
once again I can’t get in…grrrr
- Daniel
Reply
1. Marie Elena
  
  March 17, 2024 at 8:34 pm
  
  Gosh, I’m sorry. I wonder why?
  
  Your poem is so heartfelt and human. Wonderful!
  
  Reply
2. Poetic Bloomings
  
  March 22, 2024 at 10:23 pm
  
  An excellent write and read, David!
  
  Reply
William Preston

March 18, 2024 at 4:40 pm

Superb!

Reply

Mike Bayles

March 17, 2024 at 7:38 pm

Future of Song

An electronic buzz

leaves us wondering

if it’s a guitar or

a human voice

and an ancient heart

still beats and words

conjured sound familiar

as if they are lyrics

of a ballad heard before

as a foot taps

then another

under the table

a rhythm is found

and as thoughts

swirl and drift

the mind’s eye

sees the face of a woman

recalling love and affection

and in reflections

we wonder

if through the years

have we changed at all.

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 8:35 pm

Mike, this is so you. Love it.

Reply
1. Poetic Bloomings
  
  March 22, 2024 at 10:24 pm
  
  Agreed
  
  Reply
William Preston

March 18, 2024 at 4:38 pm

Recalls a tone poem, this. Wonderful.

Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:15 am

My heart will always be filled with music.

Reply

etodmar

March 17, 2024 at 7:50 pm

Very Good Walt, and Marie I have missed you…

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 8:36 pm

Thank you, Mary. So good to be back! I’ve missed you all and your lovely words!

Reply

purplepeninportland

March 17, 2024 at 8:27 pm

The Future Of Person to Person

We text, we shop
on-line, and when
next we actually
visit a store,
we find mostly
Self-Checkout
machines. This
bans any banter
we might have
had with cashiers,
especially those
who have become
dear. Facebook,
and Zoom moved in,
and we let them
change the way
we live. I wonder
if people will gather
in restaurants,
sans beeping phones.
I wonder if children
will find games
outdoors where
they can laugh
together, talk to
each other without
immersing themselves
in internet competitions
with people they never
meet. I miss person-to-person,
and I’m watching it
slip away.

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 8:38 pm

Sarah, you’ve captured this well. I wish it wasn’t so. I’m thankful my granddaughter has found volleyball, and enjoys it so. She is also making real friends in the process. Much, much needed.

Reply
1. purplepeninportland
  
  March 19, 2024 at 8:50 pm
  
  Good for her! Thanks, Marie.
  
  Reply
Tara Knight

March 18, 2024 at 4:13 pm

It certainly is a different world.

Reply
1. purplepeninportland
  
  March 19, 2024 at 8:47 pm
  
  Yes. Sometimes it makes me uncomfortable.
  
  Reply
William Preston

March 18, 2024 at 4:35 pm

I wonder too. Wondrously woven piece, this.

Reply
1. purplepeninportland
  
  March 19, 2024 at 8:47 pm
  
  Thanks, William!
  
  Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:31 pm

Brilliant observation and description, Sara. I wonder if they’re lost forever…

Reply
1. purplepeninportland
  
  March 24, 2024 at 8:39 pm
  
  Thanks, Walt.
  
  Reply

purplepeninportland

March 17, 2024 at 8:27 pm

Walt and Marie – Following you is tough work! Great poems.

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 8:39 pm

You’re so kind!

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:33 pm

I keep dropping m&ms so we’re easier to follow!!!

Reply
1. purplepeninportland
  
  March 24, 2024 at 8:38 pm
  
  Not really. I’ve been eating them all!
  
  Reply

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 8:32 pm

Out of Curiosity

I asked the voice of the future to write me a sonnet about AI-generated poetry. In the blink of an eye, a perfectly penned sonnet winked mockingly at me from my screen. Other words that came to mind were impeccable and flawless. I wish I could say it was so perfect it felt scrubbed. But it didn’t. It felt artistic. Creative. And, truth be told, inspired. Using the word inspired to describe an electronically generated poem makes me shudder.

What does it matter
if words flow from warmth of heart?
It matters to me.

William Preston

March 18, 2024 at 4:33 pm

Nothing artificial about this haibun. Marvellous!

Reply
1. Marie Elena
  
  March 18, 2024 at 8:08 pm
  
  Thank you, sir!
  
  Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:35 pm

Matters to me too. Go figure!!

Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:17 am

It definitely matters!

Reply

etodmar

March 17, 2024 at 8:34 pm

I had one of those dreams the other night…

The kind you hope that it was just something…

Bumping in the night… than what you were dreaming.

Saw a light brighter than the sun,

On sweltering summer day in the south.

And in my woods, it was quiet but

Far away I heard the sounds of crying…

And I wondered what was happening…

I smelled the smoke, and

Though it traveled over me…

It did not land in my forest…

I walked out my drive and

There I saw the world on fire…

I tried to make myself wake up,

But I remembered

I wasn’t at my house, and

Had to walk in the heat back to my home…

And I was weary as I saw wild creatures

Fleeing into my forest, and

I wondered why…

My forest was a safe haven…

I felt myself lay back into my sleeping self,

And breathed in the stillness around me, and

Then my cat Binkey bumped me awake…

And I was glad

It was just a dream…

For I had hopes

Yet to be given.

I told my old boy…

I wish you had awakened me earlier.

Mary Elizabeth Todd

March 17, 2024

Marie Elena

March 17, 2024 at 8:40 pm

Oh my. Sounds like the kind of dream that stay with you all day. I hope that wasn’t the case for you, Mary.

Reply
1. etodmar
  
  March 17, 2024 at 9:17 pm
  
  And the week I have had since that dream has been terrible…
  
  Reply
2. etodmar
  
  March 17, 2024 at 9:18 pm
  
  At least I did not dream anyone died… or at least not yet… I do those crazy kind of dreams and have since I was ten years old.
  
  Reply
William Preston

March 18, 2024 at 4:46 pm

Maybe a bit of catnip on the bedspread….

Reply
1. etodmar
  
  March 18, 2024 at 5:46 pm
  
  Hah….
  
  Reply
Tara Knight

March 19, 2024 at 1:04 pm

Good description of a night terror!

Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:19 am

This is the kind of dream that would take up residence in my head for a long time.

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Tara Knight

March 17, 2024 at 11:31 pm

Know my future heart,

still beating only for you

looks much like this one.

Each vein and artery traced

on a map of our loving.

May my future be

unfolding under your gaze,

secret destinies

written in the stars above

a place made only for us.

Marie Elena

March 18, 2024 at 1:42 pm

Sigh … lovely …

Reply
1. William Preston
  
  March 19, 2024 at 10:00 am
  
  A Sultana of Somonka seems to be tilling this garden.
  
  Reply
  1. Tara Knight
    
    March 19, 2024 at 1:03 pm
    
    Lol! Thanks William
    
    Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:38 pm

Lovely indeed!

Reply
1. Tara Knight
  
  March 23, 2024 at 11:58 pm
  
  thanks for checking it out!
  
  Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:20 am

This is so beautiful, Tara!

Reply
1. Tara Knight
  
  March 25, 2024 at 12:46 pm
  
  Thanks so much! I don’t always do love/romantic poetry but this form demands it!
  
  Reply

connielpeters

March 17, 2024 at 11:48 pm

The Future of My Travels

The future of my travels, I can plan,

But must rely on God to see me through.

Because I can only do what I can.

The rest is for the Lord to kindly do.

I always like to go to somewhere new.

So I plan, but say, “If it’s the Lord’s will.”

I buy the tickets and reserve until

The dates of my trips finally arrive.

Of traveling, I may not get my fill.

So this is how this traveler will thrive.

Marie Elena

March 18, 2024 at 1:43 pm

Love your attitude, Connie!

Reply
William Preston

March 18, 2024 at 4:51 pm

Love the rhyming here.

Reply
Poetic Bloomings

March 22, 2024 at 10:39 pm

Nicely done.

Reply

connielpeters

March 17, 2024 at 11:49 pm

It’s good to have you back, Marie.

Marie Elena

March 18, 2024 at 1:43 pm

Thank you!

Reply

William Preston

March 19, 2024 at 10:12 am

ONCE AND FUTURE PINK

Denigrating rose-colored glasses is a canard:
rosy
outlooks seen through happy
lenses
make for good digestion and good manners;
promote
a strong foundation supporting
future
happiness; and banish churlish
tenses.

Marie Elena

March 19, 2024 at 1:49 pm

Woohoo! A fresh waltmarie! WELL DONE!

Reply
1. Poetic Bloomings
  
  March 22, 2024 at 10:42 pm
  
  Yes. Love ‘em better fresh than stale. Well done Will!
  
  Reply
  1. Marie Elena
    
    March 23, 2024 at 3:39 pm
    
    Teeheehee!
    
    Reply
purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:21 am

You really nailed the form with this one, William!

Reply

pat anthony

March 20, 2024 at 6:56 pm

The Future of my World
is in my hands
my arthritic fingers
sifting dirt
for lettuce and spinach

prising old growth
from newly sprouted hollyhocks
lifting leaves
of salvias and bluebells

savoring the green
the deepest purples
the bright lime
the dull blade

today the first
wild violet
nodding in a crack
by the old steps

and by narcissus
a first bee
for me to care for

all of it a gift
on the first day
of spring.

William Preston

March 21, 2024 at 6:41 am

Deep sigh here

Reply
1. pat anthony
  
  March 21, 2024 at 3:58 pm
  
  🥰
  
  Sent from my iPhone
  
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  Reply
Marie Elena

March 21, 2024 at 6:11 pm
- Deeply sighing with Bill, here. Pat, you know I love your writing.
Reply
1. Anonymous
  
  March 21, 2024 at 6:26 pm
  
  Thank you much!! So happy you are able to tend our garden again!!
  
  Reply
  1. Marie Elena
    
    March 21, 2024 at 7:48 pm
    
    Thank you, Pat. Me, too!
    
    Reply

purplepeninportland

March 24, 2024 at 11:22 am

Lovely writing of nature’s gifts as always, Pat.

POETIC BLOOMINGS