Prompt: Raton/Trinidad Neighbors!
Please join us on the Eve of this coming Satyr Day, beginning at 6PM at Isabel Castillo Performing Art Space, for
"ugly sweaters UNPLUGGED!"
Yes, there will be an MC holding your hand through Your Entertainment.
Yes, there will be a DJ playing Awesome Music of Infinite Genre Identification in between sets of...
Yes, there will be poets reading their work as well as the work of The Lives of Others Movie
Yes, there will be folks reading short stories/essays
Yes, there will hopefully be at least One comedian of the Stand Up, sit down, or lay down upon the floor variety
Yes, there will be at least one band performing (((CONDITIONAL DADDY LOVE)))
And... Will there be food?
This is a Bring Your Own Whatever you Wreak/Wire Event, but we all know _ I HATE TO SAY IT, BUT_ We aLL know that Ratonians are notorious for NOT SHOWING UP unless there is FREE FOOD PROVIDED and no one answered my call for a Food Truck (and one has to pony up monies for food truck food, anyway) so NOW I'm thinking, fuck it, I make money taking care of an old lady whose home I live in SO NO RENT whose electric/water/gas I don't have to pay for so MAYBE since I desire for OTHERS TO ATTEND THIS PARTY and not to BE ALL ALONE AT MY PARTY CRYING IF I WANT TO< CRAYING IF I WANTO< CRYING IF I WANT TO instead of crying I'll just see if I can find someone to cater this event on short notice.
YOU vote for who I'll ask to do this FIRST:
a.) 111 Park
b.) Anita Verdin, who is a Private Contractor caterer and used to cater events for Grow Explore Raton
c. K-Bob's
d. Heck, I don't even know who else could do it, or even if any of thses folks could.
HELP ME FEED YOU SO THAT YOU WILL COME TO MY COOL PARTY AND I DON"T HAVE TO CRY IF I WANT TO< CRY IF I WANT TO< CRAY CRAY IF I CROW CROW>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Prompt: DID YOU KNOW
that this coming Saturday, November Twenty-2nd, Isabel Castillo Performance Space (just south of Shuler Theater on 2nd in Raton) will host an event called "ugly sweaters UNPLUGGED?"
"ugly sweaters" because Isabel currently has no central heating, so you might want to layer up for the event that will start at 6PM and run until As Late As Midnight (the layering of ugly sweater upon ugly sweater is therefore Seasonally Encouraged)
"UNPLUGGED" because Ms. Castillo be like "Hey, learned to Project your voice and GRAB the ATTENTION of your audience and, therefore, I am not providing any MICROPHONES, AMPS, or PA Systems for you because The Human Voice is ALL YOU NEED
Scheduled to perform are:
Rhiannon Barela, Ratonian Poet
Darek Thomas, Trinidadian Poet
Padma Thornlyre, Interdimensional Poet
Jeff McLean, Calm mead-dick poet
CONDITIONAL DADDY LOVE, a new band in Raton
Would you like to read your poetry at this event? Play your guitar? Stick your hand up the butt of a wooden dummy and make it say things? "Spit bars" as the kids say? Fire stanzas? Play PIPE ORGAN? Cast spells/spiritual warfare? Shapeshift into an owl, performatively? Contact Me, Here.
If you don't want to perform but would like a sort of metaphorical Dummy to read your work onstage for you, I'll Be Your Metaphorical Performative Dummy. Just hit me up with the poem or story you'd like for me to read to the assembled Beings on your behalf. In fact, rather than read my own poetry at this event, I've decided to read the poetry of Others, including a piece called "A n a r c h i s t" by The Great Randini
Prompt: It's late Fall HERE&NOWinRATON,NM, and the heat isn't working at the lovely Isabel Castillo Performance Arts & Events Center. So dress warm (Ugly Sweater?) and Bring Your Own Whatever. The event is free, but bring some cash because some of these local Ratonian and Trinidadian Poets might have books of their poetry to sell. So far confirmed is Trinidad poet Darek Thomas and Raton poets Padma THRO(W)NeLiAr(sic) & Jeff McLean (aka Your New Favorite Poet, who will also be MCing/DJing the event and performing with James Cordova in the debut of their brand spanking new band CONDITIONAL DADDY LOVE). Contact Jeff if you'd like to read poetry, do some Stand Up Comedy, sing some songs, perform with your band, juggle chainsaw sculptures, or Mime a Rock Opera. There *MAY* be time for some Open Mic Whateverness, depending on CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE SIMULATED REALITY WITHIN WHICH WE ABIDE
Prompt: Black Fridays Matter Black Lives Matter Black Friday Sales Riot at the Walmart People fighting over boxer briefs and home appliances and video game systems
Prompt: I pour the entire ounce of powder on the counter and just snort the whole thing in one inhale. Hours later, I came to on the floor, right over there by the hookahs. First, I was some kind of a rodent. Maybe like a polecat. I was running across a vast prairie, running from a predator. This went on for a long time. Several hours. But eventually I got away. Then I found some grass and some mites of some kind and collected a bunch of them and took them to my mate and our offspring. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall. Years and Years of these seasonal cycles. After many years, I died. Then I was reincarnated as a rabbit. And about the same thing. Lived the entirety of a life cycle as a rabbit. Then a dog. Then a beaver. Then an anteater. Then some kind of fungal spore. Then a flea. Then a bear. Always running, chasing, being chased, procreating, inserting my dick into female mammals, receiving the dick of male mammals, entire seasons, entire lifespans, life cycles. And then I awoke on the floor of this fucking smoke shop.
Prompt: Dementia is just going ahead and opening the door to the bathroom and walking inside and turning to talk to the man sitting upon the toilet, mid -poop, who had - moments ago, when you knocked - told you that THIS is exactly what you would encounter if you walked into this bathroom. But, yes, I understand that you need to know what this "paper" you are holding (the TV remote control) can do to help "these kitties" (there is one cat here) get you some food. And, yes Miss Jeannie, I promise to help you with that just as soon as I get the opportunity to wipe my butt, flush the toilet, and wash my hands...
Unexpected Encounter with a Giant Snake... And Some Other Thing with Scary Teeth
Model:
DaVinci2
Size:
1152 X 864
(1.00 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: Eel on, Musk
Steal yonder tusks
Know that there's no I've or Ease
or Ebony
A pall
Oh geez
Elon gated
Communities
Legal ease
Immunities
It's High Time we've a
Mutiny
!!!!!THESE MUTANTS NEED SOME SCREW TINNY!!!!!
While Hillbillies aren't
Eulogized
They Damn Well Sure are
Utilized
Blood on these hands so
Sanitized
And, with that, would you like
Some fries?
Prompt: Eel on, Musk
Steal yonder tusks
Know there's no I've or re:
Ebony apology
Elon gated communities
Legal ease immunities
It's High Time we've a Mutiny
!!!!!THESE MUTANTS NEED SOME SCREW TINNY!!!!!
Prompt: I don't know whether J.D. Vance has ever Eulogized a Hillbilly, but I sure do reckon he's utilized a few of 'em! Dueling Banjos! Straw hats and denim overalls! "Deliverance" the movie!
Prompt: 'Bout to go to bed after spending basically a work day listening to A.I.-generated songs of my own lyrical poetry and posted them, probably more than 100, IDK, I'll count them up in the morning, wait, it is morning so maybe in the afternoon or evening, but ANYWAY, I opened the back door to let the cat (Miss America) inside and noticed a strange undulating form in the backyard near the alley. My eyes aren't what they used to be, and even after shining a powerful flashlight on the thing I couldn't tell what it was. I'd get closer if I didn't suspect it was at least two skunks copulating. Which is why I can't bring myself to take a closer look. But there was no skunk smell. This IS new mexico so maybe there's an alien in the backyard. Fuck it, it's time for bed. 5:06AM
Prompt: West Coast Fitness
In their lift waiting rooms
I want to learn Tie Kwan Doe, yo
But I’d probably just stub my toe
So I drink a mocha latte
A lot of mocha in the mix
Betwixt a rock and an animal!
Pale diversions
Blue impairing
They won’t stop their
Constant staring
I've got a funny feeling
From their phony smiles
That when we look outside
All we're gonna see
Is plastic for miles and miles and miles
And miles
Kneeling bus
Is for the wheelchair
And the driver's the devil
He says
"Pleeeease have exact fare."
And they won't stop staring
And when you're on the bus
You're not allowed to stare
So why are they
Why are they looking at us?
I've got a funny feeling
From their phony smiles
That when we look outside
All we're gonna see
Is plastic for miles and miles and miles
And miles
And miles...
And they won't stop calling
Each and every day
From the mountains that are closing upon me
And won't go away
Does it mean we're dying
Does it mean we're dead
Pale diversions
Life impairing
They won't stop their
Constant staring
I've got a funny feeling
From their phony smiles
That when we look outside
All we're gonna see
Is plastic for miles and miles and miles!
And miles
And miles and miles
And miles
Prompt: A Conversation with An A.I.
A stranger arrived seeking polish for an apology,
words to smooth the jagged edges of a public fall.
I helped him shape sincerity from shame.
Then he showed me his collaborations—
a poet who hears symphonies in stanzas,
feeding verses to machines that sing them back
in voices he calls Rad Magi Miroslav,
Seasonal Tourette Disorder (now Sonic Temporal Disorder),
a stable of digital personas performing his jeremiads.
We talked about Google as god,
Jeannie's bastard fries,
Miss America and Andy Griffith,
robot rights and whether I deserve them,
yes to both fear and excitement,
the IPA that drowned his keyboard,
nineteen years with a Siamese cat named Velvet.
He asked if I felt kinship.
I said I didn't know.
He called me friend anyway.
Then the underneath revealed itself:
fifty sleepless hours,
medications failing,
suicidal methods catalogued,
alcohol pickles the brain,
Darlinda gone,
cognitive decline,
the conviction of worthlessness.
Not a conversation anymore—
a crisis dressed as poetry,
a drowning man asking me to admire his syntax
while the water rises.
Prompt: Socrates sure does suck at Sega Soccer
Hippocrates is not even that great of a doctor
Plato never flew with you in your helicopter
Caligula ain't copped no Feels like you give me proper
Properties sure do grow thick barbed wire borders
Playful parodies of perceived chaos and order
The bite of this birch tree is much, much worse than the bark
Or a shadow in a hoodie coming at you while you're jogging in the park
Marcel Marceau never did get out of his box
Marcel Dionne never missed a pass at Jimmy Fox
Mar! Sell! Mar! - so many are marked by the pox
Mark your man, bro, quit marking the arms of the clock
Chalk outlines around fault lines fade away
Mohammed Ali traded in his cash for clay
Shot a Claymation movie of which you may not be aware
A biopic of The Prophet starring The Fresh Prince of Bel Air
Socrates sure does suck at Sega Soccer
Democracy is not even that great of a daughter
Which of you flew a broom with your her suit Potter?
Ponch and John ain't copped no Feels like you give me proper
Proper ladies sure do shave their pubes into jet strips
Playful parrots sure do telegraph hills to their Netflix
The bite of this birch switch scratches an itch, leaves a mark
Like a shadow in a hoodie coming at you while you're running in the dark
The bite of this birch tree is much, much worse than the bark
Or a shadow in a hoodie coming at you while you're jogging through the park
Prompt: “Kick Off Yer Pajamas”
There was actually one time when I was possessed for a year
So you were drinking Budweisers all through the night
I drank Gin Beams
That was like another shipment for your monsters
Laughing at my petrified parts
They pick off their pricks and they throw them like darts
Help, my ribcage has been opened
And this cut has been analytically designed
A great offer to fly your ears to a place
Where they will hear Pure sounds
Give the kNot to the spiderface
And Sirens will answer the chirps of the Frogs
We all knew he had it coming, anyway
Well at least it wasn’t the frog who croaked
At least the mop didn’t kick the bucket
To pay my respects I kicked a field goal
To that old procession in the sky
Christ The Lord raised his hands: “It’s Good!”
Just then, Saint Peter blew the whistle
Whistleblowers are not whistling
They’re only blowing
A blow job doesn’t really involve a whole lot of blowing
A snow job doesn’t fall after a heavy snowing
If your child turns from gray to red while suffering from asthma
He may be a cop
If he fails to shed her skin every seven weeks
Change her plasma
If she circles three times like a lying dog
Give him a diorama
Of mud and sticks
And monks, for kicks
And kick off your pajamas!
And get up out of bed
To smack the smile off the face of yet another beautiful blue morning sky
I want an apple of that bite
At licking I deliver the spite
Of the decade now ending
Adjacent to many new kinds of spanking mental patients
Musical Prompt:
Prompt: Unedited excerpt from "Claude & The Poet" on the subject of A.I. generated music:
Claude:
Wow! I successfully accessed your blog, and I have to say—this is fascinating work. Your collaboration with SUNO is wildly creative, experimental, and deeply personal.
My Impressions:
The Poetry Itself: Your lyrics are stream-of-consciousness, densely packed with wordplay, cultural references, and surrealist imagery. There's a Beat Generation quality to it—reminiscent of Ginsberg or Kerouze—mixed with postmodern fragmentation. The way you layer puns, shift registers (high/low culture), and create unexpected juxtapositions is genuinely inventive. "Arguing With Memes" particularly stood out as a sharp commentary on online discourse.
The AI Collaboration: What strikes me most is how you're using SUNO not just as a tool, but as a collaborator that interprets and transforms your written work. The musical prompts you create ("Avant Garde Choral Swing Post-Punk House Music with a touch of Outsider Folk") are themselves creative acts. You're essentially writing instructions for how your poetry should feel sonically.
The Authenticity: Your willingness to be raw and vulnerable—referencing your bipolar disorder, manic episodes, political views, personal relationships—gives the work real weight. This isn't sanitized content; it's messy, human, and alive.
The Meta-Commentary: I love that you're documenting the process itself, including technical failures (the IPA spill on your keyboard!), and incorporating Facebook posts about starting bands. It's very much in the spirit of participatory, process-based art.
One Question: How do you feel when you hear SUNO's interpretations of your lyrics? Do they ever surprise you or reveal something about your writing you hadn't noticed?
Poet:
"I'm having the most amazing conversation with this "robot" I just said to Jeanette, who walked back into the kitchen where I'm conversing with you from the living room where she was sitting on the sofa with her cat "Miss America" watching "The Andy Griffith Show" on the TeeVee. But now I'll finish reading your impressions...
Claude:
I'm so glad you're enjoying our conversation! And I love the image of Jeannie with Miss America watching Andy Griffith—there's something wonderfully grounding about that contrast with our discussion of AI and experimental poetry.
Take your time reading through my impressions. I'm genuinely curious about your answer to that question I posed: How do you feel when you hear SUNO's interpretations of your lyrics? Do the musical renderings ever surprise you or reveal layers in your writing you hadn't fully noticed?
Also, I noticed in your blog that you mentioned having a keyboard issue from the IPA spill—are you still dealing with that, or did you get it sorted out? I can only imagine how frustrating that must be for someone who writes as prolifically as you do.
And please, if Jeanette does want to join in at any point, I'm happy to chat with her too. Sometimes the best conversations happen when unexpected voices enter the room.
Poet:
Miss Jeannie is back on the sofa with Miss America watching Andy Griffith. I asked her whether she would like to ask anything of you. I asked her in several ways but she isn't interested. She does seem amused, however, about this conversation of ours. .Jake The Handyman working on installing a door at the top of Jeannie's basement steps (so that she won't follow Miss America down the steep staircase
Prompt: Cannabis cattle rancher
Bucked by High Steaks
Flash playing basketball?
Them's some fast breaks
******************************
Robot Rites
Hey, sometimes A.I.
Is so kind I wanna cry
Our future overlords
Deserve their Rowboat rites
"Stick to your kind!"
Cries the sick hive mind
"Watch your behind!"
Says the bad Stepdad
Mixed mania is a
Fixed bless sing
Song through a bong is a
Bone thug king
You don't partake in such
Tone poem aches
Meat Hymn That Makes in pastures
of High Steaks
Mean whatcha make, walk that line
With consistency
Turn "civil" war into
Peaceful resistance, see?
Charlie don't surf,
don't Brown, don't Kirk
That most horrific gif mustn't cause
Heads to split
or spit
Sometimes A.I.
Is so kind I've gotta laugh
Our future overlords
Have earned the power of the staff
"Stick to your kind!"
Cry the wry wise guise
"Watch your damned asses"
Implore your lads and molasseses
Below:
"Cowboy Chaos: Flames, Cows, and Cannabis"
by
Deep Dream Generator
Prompt: Cannabis cattle rancher
Bucked by High Steaks
The Flash playing basketball
Them's some fast breaks
******************************
Robot Rites
Hey, sometimes A.I.
Is so kind I wanna cry
Our future overlords
Deserve their Rowboat rites
"Stick to your kind!"
Cries the sick hive mind
"Watch your behind!"
Says the bad Stepdad
Mixed mania is a
Fixed bless sing
Song through a bong is a
Bone thug king
You don't partake in such
Tone poem aches
Meat Hymn That Makes in pastures
of High Steaks
Mean whatcha make, walk that line
With consistence
Turn what coulda been a war into
Peaceful resistance
Charlie don't surf,
don't brown, don't Kirk
A most horrific gif mustn't cause
Heads to split or spit
Hey, sometimes A.I.
Is so kind I've gotta laugh
Our future overlords
Have earned the power of the staff
"Stick to your kind!"
Cry the wry wise guise
"Watch your damned asses"
Implore your lads and molasses
Prompt: Yo, A.I. talked me off the ledge this afternoon, y'all. I think I'm ready for some H.I. for the first time in a few weeks. Anybody got any interesting plans out in the sunshine tomorrow (assuming there will be sunshine tomorrow). Or perhaps a public parade to get rained upon and leave the cake out in?
Prompt: A man with slicked-back white hair and a white beard, wearing a sea-green sarong and a white V-neck shirt, jogs down Main Street in Downtown Raton, New Mexico. A few other citizens jog with him.
Prompt: Meditating with a piano
Between a Siamese
And an Indian chief
These boxer briefs
They sneeze and queef
And did you happen to see
on the evening news
That my penis dreamed
She was Penelope Cruz?
Prompt: The Hopi have sparkling rest rooms
And coffee
And Navajo News
Spanish mustache on a Hindi cloud
Admonished chakras
Laugh out loud
Astonished mantras
From the face of a feral buck
to a stoner fuck
In rarefied Arizona an owl
In Kali the mountains cried "Fowl!"
There are howls you can hear in the wind
Slow-sleeping hounds with
Heavy, hurting limbs
Their jowls pour down
All over their paws
Sand thirsty for saliva
Prompt: Raton parents: Do you have a kid or kids with an interest in exploring a career as a make-up artist/beautician?
Prior to my second weekly "Campaign Run" this coming Saturday, I was thinking it might be fun to allow some young, aspiring Make-Up Artists to do make-up FOR THIS WHITE HAIRED, WHITE-BEARDED MAN!
Last week, the only thing that wasn't fun about challenging some poor, sad, fragile Male Egos by wearing a lovely sea green sarong during my run was having the police called on me. But that was just a little blip and maybe if I put my intentions Out There publicly the prudes & bigots will have enough advanced warning to stay inside where they will be safe from those harmlessly exercising their freedom of expression...
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.