You Call The Poets

Saturday, May 23, 2026

Good morning, Twfw. O/

A pink band of ribbon stripes the northern horizon of evergreen tops.

Songbirds start the choir. Dawn, lights on, game on, another show called: Today.

Everyday we cover the same song again, this symphonic score called: Today.

The same plotlines: Love, Ambition, Hope, and Survival cycle with our sphere. Each day new actors are cast for the same roles.

What song are you covering today?

The idea is to make it new, make it uniquely our own.

On with the show...

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Hope all's well dear reader. Thanks for joining me in this exercise for the morning.

Just a poet sitting and writing what comes to mind with the sunrise everyday surrounded by a world engulfed in a textual fire called The Internet.

If the house is burning down, you call the Fire Department. When words are an inferno on every screen, you call The Poets.

Remembering words make more than billboards; they also compose sonatas, is the cure for all the ills of this modern age.

There's more to language creation than, "Hey, look at me."

But we were discussing the sunrise when The Internet Age and AI sent a notification to light up our phone screen...

...

Colore posts start again this Friday. Weekly verses are the best way to deliver it to you.

I'm the humblest poet ever (of all time O/), but the task of writing Colore is monumental. I send it out in installments because it's a great way to experience it. Also, because if I were to sit and finish the whole series before releasing it, I'd have to remain a ghost longer.

Alone time has its perks, but there's more living to enjoy.

This Friday we enter another World, a land called Colore. It's time to start believing in Faerie Tales again.