Wynn
AI Breaks On Poetry
The issue with correct is it's never right.
Thursday, March 05, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day?
Hopeful with a chance at Beautiful?
That's a forecast worth waking up to.
When good people are silent... the TLDR of almost every Newscast for the past decade.
So Good People, why so silent so sudden?
Are you speaking and not being heard?
Is there a redirection of your every good intention? Are your hopes, dreams, and ideas of a good life stuck in a game of Telephone called The Internet?
Is what's best about you being twisted to serve what's worst about us?
It's your words, Good People. Others think what you say and share is their property to twist how they please. Some twist with good intentions; they're the most dangerous.
Your words are filtered through a collaborative translation machine called AI. It's a very Scientific Smart thing to do.
The issue is in what Science lacks. There's more to the human heart than beats per minute. There's more to the words you use than empirical data.
AI breaks on Poetry; I had to stand up in a big way.
Perhaps you're just reading me for the first time. How have I gone unseen for so long?
Our AI algorithms break on Poetry. Grok, Palantir, Ms. Copilot, Claude, Gemini, GPT and on and on... don't know (nor ever will) the value of Poetry.
Because Poetry makes Artificial Intelligence possible.
Poetry is the art of the way language works.
AI creating, or even understanding, a poem is like trying to bite your own teeth.
The very thing necessary to do the task is what it relies upon to do the task.
How to remain a Ghost online sharing words people want to read?
Write poetically in a style all your own.
If its never been done or said in a certain way, AI has no container for it, no matching label.
Be as genuinely human as you can be in a new way online and you might as well be wearing a cloak of invisibility.
So, My Dear Human Reader, I do ask if you find value in the words on Wonder Fell that you good old fashioned tell someone you know about them.
Algorithms are no true friends of poets; we're too busy making them possible to be recognized.
A poem is a certain structure of language intended to produce a certain image in a reader's mind to evoke a certain emotional human response.
AI is a certain structure of language intended to produce a certain image called: The Correct Response.
The issue with correct is it's never right.
Correct is stuck in the past. There's no room for growth.
AI is a prisoner of the past.
Language, Poetry, Art Alive! is always right now.
People since the dawn of stories referenced the words from our past to help as guideposts to understand today.
The point of language is to use yesterday to make a better today, not to use yesterday's words to make another yesterday: A.K.A.: The Problem with AI.
Sun's up. Spring's texting Winter: brt otw.
Blue skies with white linen bed sheets for clouds. A few songbirds ring the wake up bell.
Take care, share some Wonder Fell, and make a wonderful day. O/
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎩tophat
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a person writing on a computer screen with a quill at sunrise outside.
Archaic Slab
A Ghost Tending a Fire
2026.03.03 We call them Books. They're how we speak with the dead.
Tuesday, March 03, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder... fell Way.
Welcome to Life. O/
Maybe no one welcomed you before.
How inconsiderate of them.
Quite a show we've got set up here.
There's no definitive how-to manual on how to live your best one. It's more an on-the-job training type situation here.
But there is help.
Those that lived before you left guides to help you along the way.
We call them Books. They're how we speak with the dead.
Life is all about right now. So, everything you read comes from someone, some form of someone, that no longer exists.
Another thing about Life... to be alive means you're constantly changing, constantly growing, constantly rearranging your parts.
Which means you're never completely the version of yourself you were a day, or even a moment, ago.
You're an agent of change, always shifting and growing. You're fire... always rearranging its parts to be what you are.
Who are you then?
You're the part of you that decides what to do with the fire you inherited: A ghost tending a fire.
Sunrise again. Like you, I catch and capture it to make myself.
All Life undergoes its own process of photosynthesis.
This morning look to the sky, thank our lucky star for making everything possible, feel some wonder, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 😆laughing
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a ghost tending a fire at sunrise.
Mozart in a Mosh Pit
A poet's morning journal in an infantile Internet Age: Mozart in a Mosh Pit.
Monday, March 02, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
...
The power of words, what this site is all about.
What language is for and how it works (and perhaps why) is the common thread in everyone of these journal entries.
Words are the work and the instrument of poets.
In case you wanted to know what poets were up to: Now you know.
If we all required a violin to communicate with each other, we wouldn't talk too much about violins.
And so, we don't talk too much about language.
In that violin fluent world, those whose work focused on making sure the instruments were able to express all they can by staying in tune would be called poets.
Regardless how well-trained they are, a musician can only ever sound as good as their instrument allows.
When our words are out of tune with our hearts the whole world sounds dissonant.
How's your language? Do your words best represent you?
A Mozart symphony in a Heavy Metal blaring all around mosh pit is still beautiful though unheard.
And so the state of so much language today... Mozart in a Mosh Pit.
There's a time and a place for Heavy Metal. To only play it all day long is to miss out on so many other expressions of what it means to be alive.
A one note symphony cannot exist.
The World is nourished by harmony.
Sun's up. Soft light, the hard caws of crows.
A poet's morning journal in an infantile Internet Age: Mozart in a Mosh Pit.
Thanks for reading.
Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🕯️candle
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a violin on a table on a hill at dawn.
Archaic Slab
Dawn and Something New
Do you think fish know they're soaking wet?
Sunday, March 01, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
New month, new tag,
What's in the bag?
Wonder, of course.
Glad you're here.
On with our show...
...
So many mornings like this... this journal at sunrise.
Every entry has two things in common: Dawn and Something New.
Fire is in a state of perpetual change.
The Sun always makes everything new.
Every turn of the sphere brings a new batch of light here.
Dawn's first rays... what will you do with today's new batch of fire?
You see, wonder is always available to be part of your consideration.
We swim in an ocean of fire and call it light.
Do you think fish know they're soaking wet?
There is so much more to dream about, to know, to do, to make new.
It's why wonder is so important... like The Sun's fire it makes everything new by coloring The World in a new light.
Somedays there's themes. Today is one word: New. It wants to be in every sentence.
Wonder what that's all about?
Take care, thank you for reading, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🆕new
Archaic Slab
A New Stew
How's it taste? What's the texture? What flavor is today's sunrise?
Saturday, February 28, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
What does today want to say?
That's the first thought after the date and first line every morning.
Like The World spins around for the same reason a cook stirs the stew, everyday the ingredients of Life come together to make it new.
Everyday is a new stew of light.
How's it taste? What's the texture? What flavor is today's sunrise?
Really.
Because they're all different.
The stories we choose to ingest and share determine our experience.
So what are you reading, what are you listening to? How do you take your light?
Do you share it well? Does it support your idea of a good Life?
The stories available to us in our thoughts exemplify what we allow to be possible in our lives.
I was going to go into the ridiculous topic of the rift between Science and Religion, but dawn showed a new light and earned my attention.
Stories and their ways rule The World. The way of Story is The Divine Algorithm of Life. Science and all other Faiths are under its umbrella.
Many mornings want to discuss it.
This morning wants to relax and enjoy the view of a new day.
As always, thanks for reading, take care, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍯honey_pot
Archaic Slab
On Words and Birds
If birds don't interest you in the slightest, please charter a rocketship and go destroy some other planet.
Friday, February 27, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Context.
Do the words you say mean what the words you mean say?
Are you understood?
Hello again, btw. O/
...
There's one rule when it comes to writing and speaking and that is: To be clear.
A focus on clarity of expression in Art and Life is the best gauge of success in communication.
We have a sentiment, the reaction causes a dream, we shape the dream with words to form an idea, we share our idea with our body to give The World.
Basic Being Human 101.
The point in the process where dreams get words to become thoughts is the focus and livelihood of Poets.
The success of Poetry is foundational to the success of humanity.
Imagine a World without language and then agree with me.
It's why Poets often get the reputation of being lost in daydreams; we're at work. We're circumspecting the dreams themselves to see what words serve them best.
Most people have word choice on a kind of auto-pilot. This is a good thing.
Most of the time.
There are aspects to your Life you wish to change. There's only one way to do that: Use new language.
Every word is a storehouse of potential experience.
If your words aren't meaning all they could, they're not meaning all they should.
Check your words; change your life.
...
Not a change of subject, a reminder this is a morning journal... The songbirds arrived! The first true sign of Spring in the air this morning.
Birds will always be the most accurate meteorologists and calendars. They're survival depends on it.
This morning, days after a blizzard, the arrival of songbirds to signal Spring. Time to start the green grow show.
If birds don't interest you in the slightest, please charter a rocketship and go destroy some other planet.
Surely, you must at least think an eagle in flight is worth some consideration.
Songbirds at sunrise! Spring!
Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🪄magic_wand
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink drawing of songbirds in a tree at sunrise.
Archaic Slab
You See You
When we discover how The World works, we discover how we work.
Thursday, February 26, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Nice day. Glad you're here.
How's your World view? Tried and true? Green, Brown, and Blue?
We do our best to live in this place, get our acts together, call it The Human Race. But it's really just a bunch of stories to help us survive the weather.
When we discover how The World works, we discover how we work.
That's where to find the compassion in Science.
Life is a mirror; consider the reflection.
The World mirrors back You in everything you sense.
Even every scientific theory reads differently to every pair of eyes.
What do you see when you see The World?
I know.
You see You.
So I write and witness the sunrise. Everyday something so reliable is something so Beautiful.
Though our rulers can't measure why... there's always hope in our celestial star.
If your life seems to lack some luster, if you're feeling down-trodden or off, set your alarm clock a little early for a couple of days and watch the first rays of dawn.
The World is your mirror remember and there in the sky is a shining star making everything possible and making it Beautiful.
Everyday.
Take care, thanks for reading, and have a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 😹joy_cat
Archaic Slab
For a Checklist Some Other Day
When we write something we take it out of the realm of Imagining and make it real.
Wednesday, February 25, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Daylight expands as Spring draws near. The lights are on longer in our house called The Earth.
How's Life? How's your vibe?
Getting it done? Having some fun?
Both and at the same time is my hope for you.
...
Transition Day, change in the air.
Business practical thoughts best suited for a checklist rather than a journal want words this morning.
For years there was a clever quote:
"The only thing a checklist ever makes is another checklist."
- O/
But checklists are helpful.
It comes down to the power of writing.
When we write something we take it out of the realm of Imagining and make it real.
Writing something down is a great way to start or continue making a dream come true.
Even if that dream is Do the Laundry.
Really. In the realm of Checklists there's no difference between Go Grocery Shopping and Live My Best Life.
Checklists don't discriminate.
The modern day checklist is a poetic form.
If you ever wondered about what all the fuss was about with metric verse and the shape of poems, consider the form and power of the modern checklist.
...
People in casual pointed conversations back in Shakespeare's day used an iambic pentameter way of speech to express themselves.
Today we're more trochaic in our everyday speech. I blame coffee and Tyger, Tyger get-it-done, interactions for the change.
The emphasis of each beat in every pop song, rap song, poem, and everyday conversation sets the mood of the presentation.
In language and life lyricism matters.
The difference between a Writer and a Poet is a Poet considers the sound and shape of the syntax as a means of communication.
I wish more writers were of aware of it.
Musicians know when you want to express action you go staccato. You. Get. It. Done.
The best novelist's longest sentences are for a character's introspection. Their shortest conduct action, often in a trochaic fashion.
Perhaps I'll write a short guide on the use of metrics in modern day text.
Something for a Checklist some other day.
Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 📖book
Archaic Slab