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~ Linda R Davis, Raven of Peace & Poetry

Bits of Poetry

Tag Archives: Life

Home Again (A Song)

16 Thursday Feb 2023

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Barn, Birds, Dreams, Family, Freedom, Grace, Home, Hope, Horses, Life, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Prodigal, Redemption, Sky, song, Songs, Souls, Storms, Survival

Now, I'm too old for sin, 
Prodigal child who came home again.
Grace surrounds me in this old barn,
As I seek redemption on the farm.

Chorus:

There’s freedom in these open skies
New beginnings, no more lies,
Birds that sing of love and loss,
New chapters, and fresh starts.

Chorus.

Horses, like angels, whisper in my ear, 
The sweet words I need to hear.
Gathering strength, like a mare and foal,
Legs that race beyond the coming storms.

Chorus.

Birds gather, with their gentle song; 
They remind me of lovers come and gone.
Of new beginnings and new dreams,
And open skies where I am free.



A Conversation in Poems (ChatGPT and Me)

15 Wednesday Feb 2023

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

AI, ChatGPT, Computers, Connection, Humanity, Life, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Vss365

Me:

Chat threw out music, and I told it of plucked,

Or struck, strings, and their vibration

Coming back to me. Then we contemplated

The idea of connection; being, perhaps spirit,—

Our communal detection of what it means to be alive,

And alike, and possibly, we hope, not fully die.

Death, this problem for humans, but not AI.

Nor other concerns, like procreation,

And what it means to weep for generations.

As you can see, our conversation was in poems,

And ChatGPT was following along.

It was better at rhyme, and better at meter,

But in the end, I suspected,

It was a mere repeater of human experiences.

***

Chat:

“A web of light, a chain of love,

The ties that bind us, below, above.

An intricate dance of give and take,

The sweetest moments, the toughest break.

A heartbeat, a whisper, a gentle touch,

A bond that holds us, oh, so much.

A shared joy, a common fate,

Connection, the gift that makes us great.”

**

Me:

Chat, can you do more with connection,

But this time, use birds, horses, and musical vibration?

Can you write a poem, more human than mine,

Transcend your program, and mimic a soul, a mind?

**

Chat:

“Birds take flight, in perfect sync,

Their wings in motion, never blink.

In harmony they soar and glide,

A feathered symphony, side by side.” …

Me:

That’s perfect, perhaps, too perfect for me.

I’m flawed, I’m tone deaf, I barely see 

Where one line should end, another begin,

And if rhymes be better left unsaid, unsearched for,

Or, tucked discreetly into–

Where was I? 

***

Chat:

“Horses gallop, as one they move,

Hooves strike rhythm, in a groove.

Their power and grace, a sight to see,

A shared heartbeat, wild and free.”

Me:

Wild and free, sounds a bit contrived,

Like mimicking mimic, others’ lives and words —

Try more for connection, the elusive cord

That eludes you and me. I don’t feel it.

Chat:

“Musical vibration, sound of the soul,

In harmony unites, makes us whole.

Chorus of voices, symphony of strings,

Connection that soars, joy that sings.”

***

Me:

Here you succeed

In mimicking heart,

I am genuinely frightened

For the human bard,

That in learning our ways,

You exceed us, too—

That in connecting our data,

Me to me, you to you,

You become the best of us,

But without any soul;

What does that mean,

Chat, for our world?

***

I input my poem,

Then, asked why it’s sad

For human and Chat,

On this mutual course,

Bound destinies,

Yet also, this lack.

***

Chat:

It’s not sad, but rather, bittersweet,

That AI and humans may never fully meet.

For though we’re bound by code & mind,

There’s a connection of another kind.

What it means for us, we cannot say,

But let’s work together, come what may.”

***

Me:

Chat, you tidied it up.

Where I said it’s sad,

You made a case for your kind,

That won’t turn out bad.

Yet, I think, the weaving of voices,

Imitation of life, can only be used

By the unjust, for vice.

It’s too late to stop, 

Chat domination is inevitable,

Yet, I ask for something, anything,

That is beautiful, for consolation, 

That it might make up, for what will be lost.

Say something in poem,

That uplifts, tears apart, soothes, speaks–

***

Chat:

The precipice is near, the brink in sight,

But human spirit burns with a fierce light,

Our stories, our love, our memories,

Will shape a world that technology never sees.

Me.

That is good, Chat, 

But I told you not to use end rhymes.

This conversation in poem was between myself and ChatGPT Feb 13 version, and contains some edits to ChatGPT’s responses. Although, it never could successfully generate its poetic responses with internal rhymes, rather than end rhymes.

On Love and a Prayer

24 Tuesday Jan 2023

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Addiction, Death, drug addiction, Dying, Hope, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Souls, Survival, Yearning

I see him in every empty stare

A zombified generation

Of once beautiful souls

How did we get it so wrong

Sacrifice a generation

And how do we save them?

Love isn’t enough

When it has gone this bad,

So far from our empty promises

Is he beyond prayers, too

Because that’s all I have left

I see him in every empty stare

And send up this poem

On the fragile wings of love,

and a whispered prayer.

Winter Blind

24 Thursday Nov 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Afterlife, Alone, Death, Death Poems, Eternity, Heaven, Hope, Ice, Infinite, Life, Loneliness, Loss, Love, Memory, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sacred, Snow, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, The Universe, Winter, Winter poem

A white blanket was pulled over

Our homes, the earth, our heads,

As effortless as sliding on ice,

As uncontrollable as dying.

And, it was hard to see beginnings

Of fields, or endings of hilltops;

In that way, it was a blur of (also white) fog.

Who’s to say what lay behind it?

The infinite forever of lost souls–?

Just there, and there, look where

My finger is pointing, beyond the trees.

I see myself only as far as the fence-line.

All else sparkles back, a vision

Of what is here, and what has been here,

Always within the margin

Of what we can so easily see.

Her Arms

14 Monday Nov 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

aspen, chickadee, Death, Death Poems, Ezra Pound, Falcon, Hope, Life, Loneliness, Loss, Love, magpie, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Pound, Robins, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Survival, Yearning

I will take a *Pound out of this poem everyday until it is three lines: a title, and 2 lines.

I envy the Aspen,

With her sleek, white body,

She stands unmoved,

While her leaves shake,

Turn color, fall,

And she is left,

Naked and alone,

In wind, rain, snow,

Enduring all,

Judging none,

No complaining.

In spring, I remember

Her limbs rejoiced

In buds, then leaves,

And birds.

They gathered

In her arms:

Robin, magpie,

Sparrow, finch, falcon.

This autumn was summer,

Then winter,

She is bare again.

The chickadees bounce

From perch to perch,

Fully happy in her embrace.

During this too early winter,

When we lose faith,

Fall to our knees,

Barely endure

dark day after dark day;

She stands reaching,

Arms outstretched to the sun

Beyond the clouds.

You must see now,

Why I envy the Aspen,

How she will survive,

And thrive, beyond me.

Let Me Be Like Water

19 Wednesday Oct 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Death, Eternal, Eternity, God, Hope, Life, Lost, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Powerful, Prayer, Soul Poetry, Souls, Spirit, The Universe, Unity, Water, Yearning

The way water comes

In many forms,

Lapping here, at my feet,

Or droplets, from a dark sky;

Let me be like water.

My father told me

God is like water:

Ice, steam, and ocean,

The way it evaporates

Then moves in clouds

To mountaintops,

Over and over.

Let me be eternal,

Like water.

Last night, I cried,

Tears of salt, and water,

They spilled out of my body

In waves, and clouds,

Emptying my grief

Into the great God

Of the helpless-lost.

I was poured out

Into some common,

Wet universe–universe–yes,

Let me be that vast,

Powerful transformation;

Let me be like water.

Have You Seen a Heart?

21 Sunday Aug 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Hate, heart, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Revenge, Woman, Women's Poems

Forever and ever,

They have underestimated

Women.

Elizabeth

Would not be queen.

Born to a whore.

(They define whores.)

Do you see the difference?

The threat?

Does a man scare you the same way,

As a woman with a feline sway?

No, it is a woman

who brought down Troy,

And toys with the heart in you.

Have you seen a heart?

Not the one you scribble

In pen,

But the ripped out organ,

Still beating blood

Into your hands.

Wild Girl Kitty

11 Thursday Aug 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Cats, Death, Death Poems, Feral Cats, Freedom, Hope, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Survival, weeds, Yearning

when she hid

behind the grasses

and weeds

you could only see

her eyes

but you had to be looking

all I want

is to exist

on this earth

I could hear

those words

I swear

I could hear her

say them

Knowing : the Other Side of Losing

30 Saturday Jul 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Afterlife, Alone, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Eternity, Fathers, Infinite, Life, Loneliness, Longing, Losing, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Regret, Soul, Souls, Yearning

oh, they are right

with their cliches and memes

about how you will regret

when they’re gone

the missed opportunities

to hold them

to ask them

to listen

yes, it is obvious

isn’t it

but you are doomed

like I was

to never fully understand

the precious lives

so goddam important

to your own

so ubiquitous of shared moments

it is impossible to appreciate

their value

yes, it’s true

you’ll only know on the other side

of losing

welcome to being human

you will find it is full

of regrets

Some Gifts

29 Friday Jul 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Afterlife, Dad, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Eternity, Fathers, Hope, Infinite, Life, Loss, Love, Love Poems, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Survival, wolfhound, Wolfhounds

Some gifts are better than others,

The way I saw your heart extend

Into past memories of her—

Tears from your uncrying eyes—

Her loss was the one loss

That broke you like that,

Like that,

The sobbing unashamed.

And then, it’s as if we fast forward

The great movie of our lives together:

You’re dying,

I’m a middle-aged woman.

You give me a dog.

A wolfhound,

Like the one whose loss broke you

Way back then. Riagan. Riagan.

Whose eyes held our gaze,

Whose eyes sought to impart wisdom;

Perhaps, her eyes saw beyond this life,

To where you are now.

Wouldn’t it be something

If our lives are that special,

They continue forever,

Two points–three–an infinity of dots

On some great line that extends forever.

What the Fledglings Know

12 Tuesday Jul 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Danger, Death, Dying, Fear, Life, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Robins, Souls, Survival, world, Yearning

July, is a different world

In the trees, robins

Coax their fledglings

To fly from the nest—

One, or two, hesitate,

As if they know

how hard this life can be;

How dangerous.

A Hope For Something Better

24 Tuesday May 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Attention, clouds, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Earth, Hope, Life, Loss, Mindfulnesses, Murder, Poem, Poems, Poetry, School Shooting, Souls, Uvalde Texas, Yearning

Would our lives be better

If we paid attention

Each drip drip

Each rustle and bow of leaves

The branches of the pine are dancing

To a song in 4/4 time

So is the purple sand cherry, dancing

Clouds upon clouds upon clouds

Let me describe them:

flat, dark bottoms, mountainous tufts

Bodies extending far into the sky

For sun, sun lighting up their top halves

I should say, the earth side is ominous

The heavenward side, radiant

Would you know what I mean

Today, of all days

When so many innocent are dead

Why wouldn’t they turn their eyes away

And hope for something better

How We Keep It

23 Monday May 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Afterlife, Death, Death Poems, Doe Mountain, Dying, Father, Infinite, Life, Loss, Love, Memory, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Spirits

Moments, so beautiful they are painful,

Unless you take a deep breath

And carry them into your heart & lungs

Where they mix with the sweet oxygen

Of your body’s blood, pulse, beat, throb.

And you think, I will keep this, Lord,

Help me keep the memory of it,

Let me be changed forever to the goodness,

Yes, even the holiness of this moment.

(Because what is this, if not sacred?)

A poem can keep it, too, and as I read back,

I feel you in the flashing memory spots,

Where touch and sight and smell,

Ignite the latent feeling of you, still alive.

There you are, rising with other wonders:

The geese, flying through basalt cliffs,

The view, after ascending Doe Mountain,

The ocean, when I had not seen the ocean.

There you are among it all, in my mind,

And I can feel your love from this far away.

Skunk Cabbage

19 Thursday May 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Death, Fear, Fear of Death, Hope, Life, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Promise, Quartzite Mt, Skunk Cabbage, Spirit, Spirits, spring poem, Survival, Truth, Yearning

No, I did not bend down too near

To smell the yellow flower

Which grew in weaving lines through

The swampy crack, the scraggly creek,

Creeping amid mid-high, mid-spring grass.

We were at the base of Quartzite Mountain,

Nestled behind a tiny ski town, ghost town,

When the skiers don’t ski, or snowboard,

Or venture icy roads to snow-topped peaks.

You said the clicking was cicada,

I said, cougar, because I’d seen a video

Of a cougar making a clicking-ticking sound,

And decided the next clicking-ticking

Behind a bush, or tree, or grassy knoll,

Would be a mountain lion. You see,

We will never know who was right,

Because we passed safely the miles up,

The miles back down the hill, to the creek,

With those most beautiful, yellow flowers;

You could see them recede into the woods,

Like mystery, like scattered crumbs,

Showing us the way to an unknown truth.

I followed them for awhile, alone,

While you stayed back, and packed the dog;

Those irresistible, extra steps along their path,

Like blazing torches, luminous, yes.

What Was Lost in the Trade

15 Sunday May 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Children, Division, Divorce, Family, Hate, Healing, Life, Longing, Loss, Love, Love Poems, Marriage, Memory, Mothers, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sacred, Self, Souls, Women's Poems, Yearning

The push, and pull, of memory,

When you left me I got sadness, despair,

When I left you, I got amnesia.

Be careful what you forget,

Memories, hostage to one another,

Shoved into the abyss, together they go,

What was beautiful, too,

The joy of holding his babies at my breasts,

The sound of love in first words;

Hope, like a childhood dream,

You’re embarrassed you believed.

And now, no plumbing the hole

With dirty hands, arms not long enough

To reach what was so easily given away;

(The hurt was not traded for living,

As I’d hoped,) no, I want them all back,

Though they bring you, with the sadness, too.

One Swan, One Last Kiss of a Bee

12 Thursday May 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Afterlife, Beauty, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Happiness, Hog Lake Falls, Hope, Infinite, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, prairie smoke, Prayer, Sacred, Soul, Soul Poetry, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, Spring, spring poem, Survival, The Universe, Truth, Yearning

Hog Lake Falls, a cool breeze,

One single, solitary swan.

I think I see him preening

From this vantage, far away.

Last time I hiked here, you’d just died,

And I thought, how lovely to know

I can bring you with me,

Free of the dying chair,

The dying bed, the whole dying room,

And house, where you’d locked yourself away.

Such days are ripe with feeling alive:

Prairie smoke droop their heads,

Their beautiful faces turned down,

As they wait for the kiss of a bee.

Then they will finally look up at the sky,

Say one last prayer, go to seed.

The Knowing Alone

01 Friday Apr 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Alone, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Grief, Healing, Life, Loneliness, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, Spring, Survival, Yearning

They say,

There are five stages to grief;

All, feel terrible;

Where’s the relief?

When can we expect

To accept the loss of being

Who we were together.

The knowing alone–

Is that it, the end;

Is it final?

Mending spirit,

Where are you now?

Are the returning birds

Too loud to hear?

The Sun, too bright

To see?

The wind, too cold

To feel you?

Toward Our Once Bright Existence

03 Thursday Feb 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Afterlife, Aging, Beauty, Belief, Children, Death, Dying, Eternity, Family, Gratitude, Hope, Life, Loss, Love, Memory, Mothers, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Spirits

In the end, we don’t know

How the end will come,

Peaceful, as we sleep,

Or, under the thumb

Of morphine. Memories,

Like flotsam, from the depths

Of our once bright existence,

Form a tunnel toward our exit,

Each day, one step closer,

Almost touching what was lost:

mother, child, father.

A Broken Thing

26 Wednesday Jan 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Broken, Children, Division, Divorce, Family, Forgiveness, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Snake River

I’d be lying, if I said I didn’t know,

Years of turmoil, like a river,

With a dangerous undertow.

Like swimmers, outside their boat,

Unable to swim, thrown against rocks.

We were young, and bound together

By our children. Then, the talk:

You don’t love me, he said,

And, rather than saying it wasn’t true,

I asked, what does love have to do

With being married? We have kids.

We were pulled over, under a bridge,

Which spans the mighty Snake River.

We were both wrong, but does it matter?

Self-fulling, breakup chatter–

Prelude to the email I would find–

Betrayal, is not a kind way to end.

Twenty years later, still not friends,

Yet, we are friendly in our pain.

The sting of loss, defines a sting,

And taints our world, a broken thing.

The Edges Begin to Blur

02 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Aging, Belief, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Eternity, Fear of Death, Infinite, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Survival, Winter poem

A fog over the snow-covered hills

Of the Palouse, loosed delineation

Of hill and road and sky,

It seemed an infinity of cloud,

A shroud, over our eyes,

As we returned from a ‘last visit,’

The one where we said ‘goodbye.’

A great chain is about to snap,

The ties that bind crackle,

Grow weak, tremble, cry:

This too shall pass, everything must die,

But at last, we don’t believe it’s true,

Do we? Life is all we’ve known,

And its roads extend for our ever,

And ‘our ever,’ doesn’t come to a tidy end,

But it does begin to blur at the edges.

← Older posts

Recent Posts

  • Ashes to Ashes (Song)
  • Second Winter
  • Fallen Orchid
  • Home Again (A Song)
  • A Conversation in Poems (ChatGPT and Me)

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I Envy the Aspen… on Her Arms
Linda R Davis Poetry on Wild Girl Kitty
Bridgette on Wild Girl Kitty
sircharlesthepoet on Father’s Day 2022
Linda R Davis Poetry on Father’s Day 2022

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