Poems are stories added to life experiences out of uncreative realities.
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Not green. I strongly deny.
Because of my ides..They are yellow fields.
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Hope
Possibilities positives distilled
Humanity voyaging through artificial intelligence
Only verbs go on.
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there is a tree gree and yellow and gary in the haymalayyas forest.an old man is walking meditating realiries over his mind and body up to the tiniest unites of cells and molecules and atomic changes and mental elliminations and ends of creative narratives in mind zone appearing inside him.
peace in wisdom is wisdom distilled out of mind-matter algorithms beyond chaotic experiences.
a forest in a tree
a star in the forest
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not filling the blanks
a boy is singing a song of love
a toddler is walking straight on the bridge
just emptiness of no-I moment
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