Prompt: Tiffany Glass Savannah Cat; Biomorphic architectural symbiogenesis of a Salvador Dali gothic Tiffany glass Savannah cat in a mysterious botanical surrealistic monochromatic blue wonderland; by yacek yerka, gediminas pranckevicius, stefan morrell, hyper-detailed, insanely intricate, high definition, award winning, oil painting
Prompt: An abandoned fontaine, once pure and bright,
Now stands neglected, a melancholic sight.
Its waters, once a sparkling cascade,
Now silent and still, in a mossy shade.
A monument of grace, with sculpted stone,
Now cracked and weathered, all alone.
Its basin, once a source of life,
Now overgrown with weeds and strife.
The memories it holds, of days gone by,
When lovers strolled and children's laughter filled the sky.
Now echoes of the past, a fading dream,
In this abandoned fontaine, a timeless theme.
Yet amidst the neglect, a glimmer of hope,
As nature reclaims, a beauty to evoke.
A symbol of resilience, standing tall,
An abandoned fontaine, a story to recall.
Prompt: The Last Frontier, vast and wild,
Untamed and rugged, nature's child.
A land of beauty, untouched by man,
A canvas of wilderness, an untamed span.
Snow-capped peaks, piercing the sky,
Endless forests, stretching wide and high.
Rivers roaring, glaciers gleaming,
A pristine landscape, beyond mere dreaming.
Majestic moose, and bears so grand,
Wolves that howl, in a wild land.
Eagles soaring, in the endless blue,
Caribou migrating, a timeless view.
The Last Frontier, a land of wonder,
Where nature's splendor, pulls us under.
A place of solitude, serenity profound,
Where nature's secrets, are waiting to be found.
Adventurers brave, explorers bold,
Seeking treasures, untold and untold.
Challenging landscapes, unpredictable and raw,
Testing limits, awe-inspiring in awe.
The Last Frontier, a reminder true,
Of nature's power, and beauty too.
A call to protect, preserve and keep,
For future generations, a treasure to reap.
Prompt: The Bayview window, a portal to the sea,
A framed masterpiece, a sight to decree.
A panoramic view, so vast and wide,
Where nature's beauty, can't be denied.
The waves crash, against the shore,
Seagulls swoop, with their calls, they soar.
Sunsets paint the sky, in shades of gold,
As the horizon meets, the ocean bold.
From the Bayview window, the world unfolds,
With each changing season, stories untold.
Storms may rage, with winds that blow,
But the window stands strong, through highs and lows.
It's a vantage point, a tranquil retreat,
A front-row seat, to nature's sweetest feat.
A place to dream, to ponder and reflect,
As time slows down, and worries deflect.
The Bayview window, a treasured sight,
A beacon of solace, morning and night.
A reminder of nature's wonders, so grand,
A simple window, by the bay, to stand.
Prompt: A sound, a sensation,
A sudden drop, a wild vibration.
An unexpected noise, sharp and loud,
It can make you startle, and draw a crowd.
A falling object, hitting the ground,
A splatter, a splutter, a chaotic sound.
A burst of energy, a burst of sound,
A sudden impact, echoing around.
A word onomatopoeic, describing the scene,
The result of something, no longer serene.
A sudden change, a disruptive thunk,
A kerplunk moment, in a fleeting blink.
So when you hear it, that sudden sound,
Remember the word, it's quite profound.
A kerplunk moment, unexpected and bold,
A reminder that life can sometimes unfold.
Prompt: A big red door, so bold and bright,
Stands tall and proud, a stunning sight,
Its hue commands attention, draws the eye,
A beacon of welcome, reaching for the sky.
With paint so vibrant, it catches the sun,
A symbol of warmth, for everyone,
Inviting all to step inside,
To a world of mystery, waiting to be tried.
What lies beyond this threshold wide?
Adventures unknown, secrets to confide,
A world of possibilities, a treasure trove,
Behind the big red door, a story to unfold.
It may lead to a home, filled with love,
Or a new beginning, soaring like a dove,
A place of comfort, of laughter and cheer,
Where memories are made, year after year.
Or perhaps it hides a place of art,
Where creativity flows from mind and heart,
A studio, a gallery, a haven for the soul,
Behind the big red door, a place to be whole.
So open the door, with curiosity and glee,
Embrace the unknown, set your spirit free,
For beyond that threshold, a world may await,
Behind the big red door, a destiny so great.
Prompt: Bocce ball, a game of skill and grace,
Played with friends in a sunny place,
With polished spheres, smooth and round,
On grass or sand, or any ground.
Throwing balls with careful aim,
Hoping for a winning claim,
Strategy, precision, finesse,
A friendly game, a playful chess.
Rolling balls with gentle touch,
Laughing, chatting, oh, so much,
Each player vying for the win,
With a competitive, yet friendly grin.
Back and forth the balls will go,
Measured steps, a rhythmic flow,
Trying to land with precision,
In the target, with decision.
Cheers erupt for a well-played throw,
High fives shared, a friendly glow,
Bocce ball, a timeless treasure,
A game of leisure, a simple pleasure.
So gather 'round, both young and old,
In sunshine warm or evenings cold,
With bocce balls and camaraderie,
A game of joy and unity.
Prompt: Bathsheba, a woman of beauty rare,
Her story told with both love and despair,
A tale of passion, intrigue, and woe,
In ancient times, so long ago.
A King named David, mighty and bold,
Caught sight of Bathsheba, as she bathed in gold,
Her beauty captivated his heart,
And desire consumed him from the start.
Though Bathsheba was Uriah's wife,
David's lust led to a sinful strife,
He took her as his own, in secret embrace,
A transgression that brought disgrace.
Bathsheba conceived, and news did spread,
But David's guilt, he could not shed,
To cover up his wrongful deed,
He plotted Uriah's death, indeed.
Uriah was sent to the battlefront,
Where he fought valiantly, but bore the brunt,
Of David's treachery, in a deadly scheme,
As Bathsheba waited, lost in a dream.
But God's displeasure could not be ignored,
For David's sin was greatly abhorred,
Bathsheba's child fell ill and died,
A consequence of David's pride.
Yet amidst the sorrow, Bathsheba's heart,
Found solace in a brand new start,
For David, contrite and full of remorse,
Repented, seeking God's guiding force.
Bathsheba became David's wife,
Prompt: The Good Samaritan, a tale renowned,
Of kindness and compassion, so profound,
A story from days of old, still rings true,
With a message that's relevant anew.
On a dusty road, a traveler lay,
Beaten and robbed, in pain he lay,
Ignored by a priest, passed by a Levite,
But help was near, in the form of a light.
A Samaritan man, of different race,
Stopped to help, with grace and pace,
He tended wounds, with oil and wine,
Provided care, with love divine.
He lifted the injured, put him on his own beast,
Took him to an inn, paid for his feast,
Provided for his needs, without delay,
And promised more upon his way.
He did not ask for creed or kin,
Or question how the trouble began,
He simply saw a fellow in need,
And acted with kindness, indeed.
The Good Samaritan's example shines bright,
A beacon of compassion in the night,
Teaching us to look beyond our own,
To care for others, even if unknown.
To lend a hand, without asking why,
To see a neighbor in every passerby,
To offer love and aid, with open heart,
To be the Good Samaritan, playing our part.
For in this world, with all its strife,
Prompt: Old Pancho was a humble man,
A farmer with a weathered tan,
He worked his fields from dawn 'til dusk,
With calloused hands, and heart robust.
His eyes were bright, though aged and wise,
A twinkle there, a hint of surprise,
For Pancho knew life's simple grace,
In every sunrise, in each new place.
He plowed his land with mule and plow,
Underneath the hot sun's scorching glow,
With sweat upon his furrowed brow,
He toiled away, no time to slow.
He sowed his seeds with careful hand,
And watched them grow across the land,
He tended them with love and care,
As if they were his children fair.
The rains would come, the winds would blow,
Yet Pancho never ceased to sow,
He worked the land with steadfast might,
From morning's dawn till starry night.
And when the harvest time arrived,
With bounteous crops, he truly thrived,
His heart was full, his soul content,
With nature's gifts, so truly meant.
For Pancho knew the cycle well,
Of planting, reaping, and the swell,
Of life's abundance, ever new,
Renewing hope with each day's view.
So as he walked his fields each day,
With weathered hands and hair of gray,
Prompt: A bowl of fruit, a vibrant sight,
Nature's palette, a rainbow of delight.
Apples red, juicy and sweet,
Oranges bursting with tangy treat.
Bananas, ripe and mellow,
Berries plump, a colorful show.
Grapes, a cluster of succulent spheres,
Peaches, soft and fragrant, for your taste to cheer.
Pineapple, tropical and bright,
Watermelon, juicy and refreshing, a summer's delight.
Kiwi, with its fuzzy green coat,
Mango, golden and luscious, a tropical note.
A bowl of fruit, a gift from the earth,
Nourishing and wholesome, a treasure of worth.
Nature's bounty, a feast for the eyes,
A symphony of flavors, a delightful surprise.
Prompt: Embarking on an ambient journey,
A quest for serenity, a passage so free.
Through celestial realms, beyond space and time,
Guided by soothing melodies, an inner chime.
Floating on gentle waves of sound,
Lost in tranquility, becoming unbound.
Drifting through ethereal landscapes vast,
A meditative voyage, a soulful contrast.
Enveloped by calming tones that heal,
A symphony of peace, a journey surreal.
Merging with the rhythm of the universe,
In harmonious union, a cosmic converse.
Eyes closed, heart open, mind serene,
Embracing the stillness, the quiet unseen.
Sensory impressions dissolve into the air,
A boundless exploration, beyond all care.
Through valleys of whispers, peaks of calm,
A pilgrimage of sound, a tranquil balm.
A timeless odyssey, a blissful flight,
An ambient journey, a symphony of light.
Prompt: Tiffany Glass Savannah butterfly; Biomorphic architectural symbiogenesis of a Salvador Dali gothic Tiffany glass Savannah butterfly in a mysterious botanical surrealistic monochromatic blue wonderland; by yacek yerka, gediminas pranckevicius, stefan morrell, hyper-detailed, insanely intricate, high definition, oil painting, hypperrealistic
Prompt: The '67 Corvette, a classic car,
A symbol of style, both near and far.
A sleek design, a beauty to behold,
With curves and lines, so vintage and bold.
A roaring engine, a V8's might,
Powerful and agile, a true delight.
A convertible top, to feel the breeze,
Cruising down the road, with effortless ease.
Chrome accents gleaming, a shiny grille,
The Corvette emblem, a mark of thrill.
Headlights glowing, like piercing eyes,
The '67 Corvette, a timeless prize.
Leather seats, snug and snug,
A cockpit of luxury, a driver's hug.
Gauges and dials, in perfect array,
A dashboard of nostalgia, from back in the day.
The '67 Corvette, a collector's dream,
A symbol of American automotive esteem.
A legend on wheels, a symbol of speed,
A classic beauty, that continues to breed.
From car shows to rallies, it turns heads,
A timeless classic, that never fades.
The '67 Corvette, a piece of history,
A legendary car, with a timeless mystery.
Prompt: One year sober, a journey of strength,
A milestone reached, a victory of great length.
A path of challenges, with highs and lows,
A courageous step, towards a brighter tomorrow.
A commitment made, to a life renewed,
Breaking free from addiction's grip, pursued.
With courage, determination, and unwavering will,
One year sober, a triumph, standing still.
Through temptations and struggles, you've persevered,
Facing your demons, your soul revered.
A journey of self-discovery, healing, and growth,
A testament to resilience, and the power of both.
You've faced your fears, with courage and grace,
Embracing sobriety, finding your place.
One year sober, a beacon of hope,
A life transformed, with a wider scope.
With newfound clarity, and a heart full of light,
You've risen above, to reach new heights.
Celebrating life, with joy and zest,
One year sober, your victory, your quest.
Prompt: Karaoke, a night of fun and cheer,
Singing out loud, without a care or fear.
A microphone in hand, a stage to claim,
A chance to shine, and make your name.
With friends or strangers, in a crowded place,
You pick a song, with a smile on your face.
The music starts, the lyrics appear,
You sing your heart out, with a voice so clear.
You hit the notes, or maybe miss a few,
But it doesn't matter, it's all about you.
The joy of singing, the thrill of the stage,
Expressing yourself, with passion and rage.
From ballads to rock, from pop to blues,
You belt it out, with nothing to lose.
The crowd cheers on, clapping and hooting,
Your confidence soars, as you keep on shooting.
Karaoke, a chance to let loose,
To sing with abandon, to find your muse.
To share your voice, your soul's true sound,
In that moment, your presence profound.
So grab the mic, and step up with pride,
Sing your heart out, enjoy the ride.
Karaoke, a night to remember,
A celebration of music, an emote to render.
Prompt: A glimmer in the rushing stream,
A treasure gleaming, like a dream.
A nugget of gold, so pure and bright,
A precious find, in the golden light.
A gift from nature's hidden store,
A treasure trove, forevermore.
Formed by time, and earth's embrace,
A precious jewel, in a secret place.
A symbol of wealth, and precious worth,
A prized possession, of infinite girth.
A nugget of gold, a rare delight,
A shimmering prize, in the morning light.
A reminder of nature's wonders, untold,
A treasure found, with stories bold.
A precious nugget, in hand to hold,
A precious treasure, worth its weight in gold.
Prompt: The SWAT team, skilled and trained,
A force prepared, when danger's ordained.
A specialized unit, swift and strong,
Responding to crisis, all day long.
With tactical gear, and weapons at hand,
They're called to action, across the land.
A team of experts, in high demand,
To handle high-risk situations, as planned.
They move with precision, in tight formation,
Executing missions, with swift coordination.
They breach and clear, with expertise,
Protecting lives, and keeping the peace.
From hostage situations, to raids and searches,
They navigate challenges, with tactical urges.
Rescuing victims, neutralizing threats,
The SWAT team, a force that never forgets.
They train rigorously, day and night,
Preparing for the unexpected, with all their might.
With courage and valor, they face the unknown,
Putting their lives on the line, to protect their own.
But it's not just about the gear and the skill,
It's about the heart, the unwavering will.
To serve and protect, with honor and pride,
The SWAT team, standing side by side.
A symbol of bravery, in the face of fear,
A beacon of hope, when danger is near.
Prompt: The road less traveled, a path untrod,
A journey beckoning, a whisper from the sod.
A choice divergent, from the common way,
A daring adventure, come what may.
It starts with a decision, a bold step,
To leave the familiar, take a path that's adept.
To blaze a trail, with uncertain ground,
Embrace the challenges, that may be found.
It's not the easy route, nor the known,
But a road with mysteries, all its own.
With twists and turns, and obstacles to face,
A test of strength, a triumph to embrace.
It may be lonely, at times so tough,
With doubts and fears, it can be rough.
But the rewards are great, the lessons learned,
A journey of self, a fire that's burned.
New vistas open, horizons expand,
As you travel on, with purpose grand.
New friendships formed, along the way,
As you navigate the road each day.
You learn to trust, your own compass true,
To listen to your heart, to be renewed.
To take risks, and chase your dreams,
To follow your heart's passionate themes.
So, take the road less traveled, if you dare,
With courage, faith, and a soul laid bare.
Embrace the unknown, the challenges rife,
For on that road, you'll find your life.
Prompt: The St. Bernard, a noble breed,
With heart as big as its size indeed.
A mountain dog, strong and grand,
Known for its courage, throughout the land.
With a thick, double coat of fur,
A droopy face, so kind and pure.
Dark, soulful eyes that seem to say,
"I'm here to help, come what may."
Bred for rescue in the snowy heights,
With instincts keen and trained delights.
A guardian of travelers lost,
Endurance and strength, at any cost.
A barrel of brandy, slung around,
A legendary tale, oft renowned.
To warm the weary and the cold,
A St. Bernard's heart, pure gold.
But not just a rescue dog alone,
The St. Bernard, a loyal home.
A gentle giant, with gentle ways,
A loving companion, all their days.
With a patient nature, calm and kind,
A faithful friend, so hard to find.
A family dog, with love to share,
The St. Bernard, always there.
So, raise a toast to this majestic breed,
A symbol of rescue, courage indeed.
The St. Bernard, a dog so true,
Forever cherished, by me and you.
Prompt: A flint knife sharp, a tool so old,
Forged by nature's hand, a tale untold.
With edges keen and edges rough,
A weapon wielded, strong and tough.
From flintstone struck, with skillful hand,
A blade emerges, sharp and grand.
A tool of old, a primal blade,
For hunting, cutting, tasks well-made.
In ancient times, a prized treasure,
A weapon, tool, for work and leisure.
A symbol of survival's might,
A flint knife, honed to perfection's light.
Its history long, its purpose true,
A timeless tool, for me and you.
Though modern tools have taken place,
The flint knife's legacy, a mark of grace.
A reminder of our human past,
A relic of a time that's vast.
A flint knife, simple and plain,
Yet in its simplicity, a beauty to sustain.
Prompt: A barber's strap, a razor's gleam,
A steady hand, a practiced theme.
The chair reclines, the cape is set,
A customer with eager fret.
The lather spreads, the brush a whirl,
The razor glides with graceful twirl.
Whiskers fall with each precise stroke,
The barber's art, a timeless spoke.
Conversation flows, stories shared,
The barber's skill, with pride declared.
A symphony of snips and trims,
A transformation from the brims.
A final touch, a splash of scent,
The customer, with looks content.
A sharp new look, a confident air,
The barber's strap, a master's flair.
Prompt: Moon rocks, celestial gems,
Gifts from beyond, moon's diadems,
Treasures from a lunar realm,
A glimpse of space's cosmic helm.
Silent witnesses, ages old,
Stories written, yet untold,
Craters, plains, and rocky peaks,
Holding secrets that science seeks.
A marvel of lunar history,
A symbol of human's grandest victory,
Moon rocks, rare and precious find,
Mysteries waiting to unwind.
Prompt: The morning sun rose with a crimson hue,
As the townsfolk gathered, their hearts askew,
To witness a sight that made them shiver,
For today was the day of the dreaded Executioner.
He stood tall with a stoic air,
His face obscured by a mask of despair,
Clad in black from head to toe,
A symbol of terror wherever he'd go.
His blade, sharp and gleaming bright,
Reflecting the harshness of morning light,
A tool of death, a weapon so cruel,
Used to enforce the law, as an executioner's tool.
He walked with purpose, a somber pace,
No expression on his obscured face,
With every step, the crowd drew near,
Eyes filled with dread, hearts filled with fear.
The convicted stood, their fate sealed,
Awaiting their doom, their final yield,
For crimes committed, justice demanded,
The Executioner's hand steady and firm, not remanded.
One by one, they faced their fate,
As the Executioner swung, their lives abate,
The crowd gasped, as heads rolled down,
In the name of justice, a macabre crown.
But as the day wore on, a question arose,
Who was this man, this bringer of woes?
Prompt: Beneath the night's dark, twinkling dome,
A child gazes up, feeling at home,
Amidst the stars, a celestial dance,
A cosmic symphony, a cosmic trance.
Each little twinkle, a world so bright,
Filling the child with wonder and delight,
Like precious gems, they light up the sky,
Guiding the way, as the child wonders why.
With eyes aglow, and heart aflight,
Lost in the vastness of the starry night,
A dream takes shape, a wish takes form,
As the child embraces the sky's celestial norm.
For in the darkness, the stars still gleam,
A beacon of hope, a timeless theme,
They whisper of mysteries, yet to unfold,
A story of wonders, yet to be told.
So the child dreams, and hopes take flight,
Bathed in the starlight's gentle light,
For in the vastness of the universe's seams,
A child finds solace in starlight dreams.
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.
