Diary, Must Know, Books, Poetry
I gave the chatgpt3 AI toll these three words “morning coffee poem,” and it came back with this poem:
Morning coffee, black and strong
A aroma that wakes me up
The warmth of the cup in my hand
A ritual that never gets old.
A sip, a taste, a moment of peace
As the world outside starts to stir
The chaos of the day ahead
Is calmed by this simple pleasure.
The rich flavor, the bitter bite
A symphony on my tongue
A reminder that this day is mine
And I am ready to conquer it all.
With each sip, my mind comes alive
Ideas flow, my creativity flows
I am ready to face the day
Morning coffee, my daily dose.
First Poem: “Daily I Fall In Love With Waitresses”
by Elliot Fried
Daily I fall in love with waitresses
with their white bouncing name tags
and white rubber shoes.
I love how they bend over tables
pouring coffee.
Their perky breasts hover above potatoes
like jets coming in to LAX
hang above the suburbs—
shards of broken stars.
I feel their fingers
roughened by cube steaks softened with grease
slide over me.
Their hands and lean long bodies
keep moving so…
fumbling and clattering so harmoniously
that I am left overwhelmed, quivering.
Daily I fall in love with waitresses
with their cream-cheese cool.
They tell secrets in the kitchen
and I want them.
I know them.
They press buttons creases burgers buns—
their legs are menu smooth.
Books, Fiction, Movies, Phantasy
Eric Carle made beautifully illustrated books. Here is his most famous one made into a beautiful short film of 6 minutes. Click on picture below to play the film.
I came across the podcast by the Paris Review entitled Making Light. In it is a wonderful short story by Philip Roth. It is one of the best writing ever. Period. I was glued to my chair. The podcast version of the story is superb. The story starts around minute 10 of the podcast. But I suggest you listen to the entire podcast. It is a treat.
Listen to Making Light.
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Diary, Politics, Books, Poetry
Click on picture to watch “The Hill we Climb”.
Transcript below
After many years, I had the chance to reread Kafka’s Metamorphosis. When I first encountered the piece, I was enthralled by the thought experiment Kafka pursued in the story. What if you wake up in the morning and you have turned into a little bug, but you still have your full consciousness? You can still understand what human beings are saying but they cannot understand you anymore and they see you a non-human terrifying, little creature to run away from. How would you feel? How would you cope with this situation?
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