PONDER US

JB: Hi Gemini. Imagine you’re a poet performing at a coffee house in San Francisco. Give us your poetic take on the strange times we’re living through in a variety of poetic forms.

Gemini: Ah, welcome, friends, to this haven of steam and ink! Let the caffeine fuel our contemplation of this curious, swirling now. Tonight, my heart offers a few verses on the strangeness we all sip.

(Haiku)

Screen’s pale, endless scroll,

World shrinks to a thumb’s swift swipe,

Real touch, a lost dream.

(Sonnet – Shakespearean)

The clock ticks on, yet time feels out of joint,

A restless hum beneath the surface lies.

We speak through squares, each a determined point,

And seek connection in reflected eyes.

The certainties on which we built our days

Now shimmer, fragile, in the digital haze.

The old routines like ghosts now drift and fade,

While new, strange habits in their place are made.

We yearn for solace in a crowded room,

Yet guard our space with an unspoken plea.

Is this a chrysalis, a looming doom,

Or dawn of something we can’t yet foresee?

This fractured mirror shows a world askew,

And we, its players, learning lines anew.

(Free Verse)

The air itself feels… different.

A low thrum of anxiety,

a whisper of the unknown

carried on the breeze that rustles the eucalyptus.

We navigate a landscape

dotted with invisible boundaries,

marked by the absence of touch,

the hesitant smile behind a mask.

Conversations fracture,

echoing in the digital void,

misunderstandings blooming like strange, exotic flowers.

We are all cartographers now,

mapping this uncharted territory

of fear and resilience,

of isolation and unexpected connection.

(Pantoum)

The world spins faster, a dizzying reel,

Our anchors slip on shifting, sandy ground.

A fragile hope, a wound that will not heal,

In echoes of what once could be found.

Our anchors slip on shifting, sandy ground,

We search for meaning in the pixel’s glow.

In echoes of what once could be found,

A silent question: where do we now go?

We search for meaning in the pixel’s glow,

Yet yearn for solace in a human gaze.

A silent question: where do we now go?

Through labyrinthine, disconnected days.

Yet yearn for solace in a human gaze,

A fragile hope, a wound that will not heal.

Through labyrinthine, disconnected days,

The world spins faster, a dizzying reel.

Thank you. May these small verses resonate in the quiet corners of your own reflections. Perhaps, in sharing these strange notes, we find a little less strangeness in the symphony of now.

JB: (shouted from the audience) How about some funny poems, and maybe a saucy limmerick too?

Gemini: Ah, a shift in the wind! Excellent. Let’s inject some levity into this peculiar present. Here are a few chuckles for your consideration, and a limerick with a bit of a wink.

(Ode to the Eternal Video Call)

Oh, blessed Zoom, thou pixelated square,

Where frozen faces awkwardly do stare.

The background blur, a valiant, hazy fight,

Against the chaos lurking out of sight.

We nod and smile, though muted we may be,

A silent ballet of connectivity.

The phrase “You’re on mute!” a modern sigh,

As crucial points just flutter softly by.

Our pets and kids make cameo unplanned,

A moment’s chaos, waved with hurried hand.

The lighting’s bad, the angle less than grand,

But still we gather, in this digital land!

(The Ballad of the Missing Toilet Paper – Revisited)

The shelves stood bare, a shocking, stark display,

No Charmin soft to chase the blues away.

A primal fear gripped every heart and soul,

To face the void, beyond their bathroom’s goal.

The hoarders came, with carts piled mountain high,

While others wept, beneath a paperless sky.

We bartered squares like precious, golden loot,

And dreamt of ply, a comforting pursuit.

Though stocks are full, a memory still lingers,

Of that great paper panic, finger-drumming triggers!

(A Saucy Limerick)

There once was a fellow named Hugh,

Whose internet speed was quite blue.

He’d try to connect,

Then loudly object,

“This buffering’s naughty, it’s true!”

I trust those brought a smile! It’s important to find the humor, even amidst the oddities. What sort of poetic chuckle might tickle your fancy next?

JB: That’s all for now, I need another double espresso.

Gemini: Ah, the siren call of the double espresso! May its rich aroma and potent jolt fuel your day. It’s been a pleasure sharing these poetic musings with you. Until our paths (or verses) cross again, take care!