Society
Thoughts on society as of late...
The World in Words
The Internet is The World in Words.
Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Poets for millennia howled for The Moon; I sing the sunrise, write the dawn.
What a singer does for lyrics a poet does with sentences and stanzas.
...
Years ago humanity started texting more than talking. To a poet the experience is like being a professional singer when the whole untrained room starts to sing and screech arias.
Speaking brought to the level of Art is singing. Writing brought to the level of Art is poetry.
An untrained out of tune room full of people bellowing arias is the state of so much of The Internet these days.
How do we find harmony?
It's in why we use our words, what writing actually is, and our responsibility to it.
Our words are an extension of ourselves. The difference between the spoken word and the written is a matter of time.
A rude comment said makes the commenter an unsavory person to anyone within earshot.
A rude comment wrote makes the writer foul every time it's read.
Accountability. We pay and are paid for our words every time they're read.
We wonder why things aren't getting better while we continue to write about, and so share, awful things.
Every article, post, and text made to voice negativity answers our question. They add up; they stack up.
The Internet is The World in Words.
What do you add to our shared literary Life with your sentences?
I urge you to consider bringing more positivity to The World Stage, for your own sake, and all you care about.
Life, for people, is at least a two-fold experience. There's a word and there's the experience of the word. But there are always words.
Caring for our language is caring for ourselves... and Life itself.
My concern is we forgot or were never told:
We can only ever be as successful as the definitions of our words.
Thanks for reading.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎩tophat
Archaic Slab
I'm Bringing Beauty Back
... removing it from the cosmetic aisles of pharmacies and placing it back in divine hands where it belongs.
Friday, April 10, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Words from the dark as the light comes back.
The quantity of the number of headlights on the highway might as well be a time and date calendar.
Sunrise still about an hour away. I wonder what arrangements of color it will bring. Always new. Always majestic. Always beautiful. The Sunrise.
I'm bringing Beauty back... removing it from the cosmetic aisles of pharmacies and placing it back in divine hands where it belongs.
A reimagined and resurrected understanding of the concept of Beauty is the cure for all our concerns regarding AI.
Many morning entries turn to words on Beauty. A poet's cup of tea, a poet's business.
So much poetry these days focuses on adjusting one's cultural heritage and gender to fit a changing world narrative to help change the narrative.
I applaud a poetry of politics, but it forgets itself.
Politics falls under the umbrella of Poetry; it's a genre.
Poets, we don't give ourselves enough credit. Words make cultures, and governments, and all of Science itself possible. And here we are the champions of language quietly, humbly, reclusively, taking very little pride in our craft and power.
Words shape our human world. Poets are masters of the craft. Where are we? Why so silent?
In this Nation built on words, where are the best of us at making and understanding what words mean and are for?
There's so much to say on this topic left unsaid for too long. More than what morning reflections in a journal can do justice for.
It's a central theme to Colore.
I go back to building it now.
As always, thanks for reading.
The sky's an ideal blue for a picture perfect day; the clouds are only there to dream about what shapes they're making.
Take care and have that wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 📈 chart_with_upwards_trend
Archaic Slab
What We Invest In Together
Stories work the same way as The Stock Market.
Thursday, April 09, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Dawn. Always something new by design.
Songbirds know and sing the novelty.
Thought I'd join in.
Thanks for reading.
Warm shades of color glow to show the horizon. Winter's gone; it's in the palette of sunshine.
The World is a celestial color making spherical factory.
Did you know no two shades of human skin are exactly the same?
Now you know.
So what's all the fuss about?
Stories and not skin are the cause of the human blight called racism.
No two human beings are ever exactly the same. Every Scientist agrees.
Stories and not money, politics, or science, make civilizations go round.
Our economics, governments, and fields of study are all based on what we value.
Value, for humanity, comes from the stories we share.
It's why The News is responsible for so much of the disorder today.
There's plenty of good happening in The World. People just aren't getting paid to share it.
We tell each other we value Hell more than Paradise with every dollar spent on, and second invested in listening to, bad news.
What we feed grows. We dump dollars and time into Hellish broadcasts and we get and grow Hell.
If you're tired, fed-up, disgusted with the state of the modern media message, the best way to change it is not to complain. It is to shut it off and share some good news.
Blame keeps it going.
Reporters need ratings to get paid. When The World devours stories of hope and heroism more than the Hell it consumes at present, we'll have peace and evolution.
It's not that we should ignore tragedy, just that we have to stop paying for it or we're going to keep paying for it.
We understand in our economics what we invest in together grows. Stories work the same way as The Stock Market.
Right now we're a Nation too well-invested in a Hellish political narrative.
Time is your money; invest it somewhere helpful.
Change the channel, share some good news, and have that wonderful day (and tell someone you did).
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🤦face_palm
Archaic Slab
The Best Investment
The best investment is always in good people.
Tuesday, March 31, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Peace, a dove; a gift we give to each other, a recognition life matters and so every life matters.
A good life. Everyone wants one. But what is it?
Work you love and the love and respect of people you love and respect.
There's a whole lot of love in a good life.
Today's entry is different than those before.
There's a great discomfort in the air.
Where's it from?
People, good people, all across The Country work harder and harder and what they earn buys less and less.
Prices go up and the value of hard work goes down.
There's no stock market to invest in without workers to make and run the companies.
The better employees are valued the better each company does because the people make the business.
Every Wall Street investment is an investment in the faith of hard working people. The Market is being forced to remember.
The best investment is always in good people.
Of all the things for a poet to be writing about as The Sun rises... economics.
Wow.
Self-awareness aside, how are you?
Affordability making you blue yet?
Feeling unappreciated, perhaps?
Let's focus on what we love that returns it today.
For me that means making sentences, verses, and stanzas.
For you... that's up to you.
Every sunrise brings something new.
Proof positive today.
Take care, do what you love and make a wonderful day already.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🧦socks
Archaic Slab
A Working Definition of Paradise
Too many of us think a robot could live our life better than us... which is an indication our systems are flawed.
Saturday, March 28, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
At it again, these wordy ways with dawn.
Thanks for joining me. O/
Things to wonder about to bring magic into your life. There's hundreds of posts here to help you do that.
Wonder, enthusiasm, awe... we replaced them as a race with hubris, reliability, and probability centuries ago. So much so now even the most beautifully lived life feels quite mundane.
Too many of us think a robot could live our life better than us... which is an indication our systems are flawed.
There's more to life than adding it up; there's the joy of adding it up.
It comes to value. How do you define your worth?
After basic needs are cared for, money is only as valuable as the experiences it affords.
So what's up with experience? How are your moments? That's how to rate the quality of your life.
Do your moments serve your best dream of yourself?
More morning philosophy with your friendly neighborhood poet.
I'd rather write about the sunrise.
Consistent, reliable, punctual: Beauty. It's the aim of this journal to mirror each dawn.
Alarm clocks go off around the Nation. A world where everyone is glad to wake up in the morning... sounds like a working definition of Paradise to me.
Maybe you're not a writer, but you have some work you love to do. Start each day with what you love. Even if only for a short time. It matters more than you know that you do. Because the quality of our moments far out passes the quantity of our days in level of importance.
How we live our lives matters far more than how long we live.
Take care, give care, and make today wonderful.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 👩🎨female_artist
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a robot waking up in the morning with sunrise showing in through a window using an indigo color palette.
Archaic Slab
Optimism for Breakfast?
2026.03.26 It's a common sense we lost sight of.
Thursday, March 26, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
With the sunrise right on time, a soft rain splashing gutters, feeding Spring.
How's Life, Dear Reader?
Better than you know, better than you've been told, somewhere... for sure.
Optimism for breakfast? No. It's a common sense we lost sight of. Most of us got it pretty good. Food, water, warmth, a few good friends, the ability to read Wonder Fell. O/
It's what you do with what you have to work with that determines the quality of your day... to some degree.
The part we've left out for quite sometime is that how you do what you do matters at least as much as what you do.
Any action done with genuine concern for the results brings a good outcome.
So the best advice I've ever come across is: Find work you love and build your life around it. Make doing that your 'job' until you do.
Practical words this morning. Find or make a way to love what you're doing until what you're doing is work you love. Then just do your work. A simple recipe to live a beautiful life.
If making art is what you love, find joy in doing all the things that makes creating art possible. Having food and shelter and supplies are all business expenses for an Artist.
Build your Life around doing what you Love. Consider all your actions during a day. Do they all support your dream?
If not cut them out or redefine them to best serve your best dream of Life... also known as doing the work you love.
Thanks for reading, take care, give care, and make wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🐕🦺service_dog
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of an artist painting a sunrise in Spring using a green color palette.
Archaic Slab
Have You Noticed?
2026.03.21 It all started with the meme.
Saturday, March 21, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Words of hope, encouragement, and wonder for a new world.
And it is new.
Have you noticed?
Men and women wanting to be women and men regardless of their bathroom routines. Robots and computers that do our work for us. Software to simulate intelligence. The ability to talk with almost anyone, at anytime, in any Country, in almost any language.
The World is a place for boarders and not borders.
Have you noticed as much, how similar we are?
It all started with the meme.
Different cultures taught for centuries we were so different found out through the use of memes, we're all so very much alike.
We moved on to showing our relationships with cats and dogs and brought the world into our homes in a relatable way.
If The Internet has taught us anything, it's that mothers and fathers the whole world over want the same things for their families.
If we spent as much time helping each other as we do blaming each other, we'd have World Peace in a year.
American politics at present is a very loud microcosm of how too many of The World's cultures have refused to get along as far back as history records.
Quite frankly it's childish greed and limited foresight that cause all the major conflicts of The World.
A survival of the fittest attitude forgets your survival is based on the quality of your environment... forgets the quality of your environment is based on the well-being of others.
Helping care for others is taking care of yourself.
So I send you words of hope, encouragement, and wonder every morning to help myself out, too.
Selfish? No. The way life works.
We get what we give. Plant an acorn you get an oak, not a rose garden.
Blame another for your hardships, you get blamed right back. You don't get a rose garden or a peaceful solution.... any solution at all.
Leaders that blame those they lead poison their own food before they eat it.
Thoughts on The World Stage with sunrise this morning.
Drab sky, clouds for a maybe Spring rain maybe some sunshine.
Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍿popcorn
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a dog and a cat shaking paws standing on top of The World using an indigo color palette.
Archaic Slab
The Experience of Language
AI is not making the artist's way obsolete; it's making every other way obsolete.
Wednesday, March 11, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Wonder Fell. The title, the first line, a single sentence, a descriptive phrase, a TL;DR: of what occurs in this journal every morning... a place where wonder falls with the sunlight.
A pun, too... because: Poet. O/
Thanks for reading.
...
Of course our intended meaning of each word matters while we write, but the size, shape, and rhythm of our syntax does too.
We call the umbrella Lyricism; poets and songwriters share the dry in the rain space with purpose, but so do you.
The rhythm and sound of our language adds to its meaning. Think of a Pop Song to understand.
Poets, unlike popular musicians, rely on the voice in your head to be our only instrument.
There is a lyric quality to all writing. Poets focus on it directly.
But the rhythm of our words affects our day-to-day life as much as it does in a rap song.
Now, I'm not suggesting we should all go around speaking and writing in metric verse. I'm saying we already, most certainly, do.
The syllables and sounds we choose shape our breath to shape our message.
A punctuation exercise shows this truth:
Yes. Yes? Yes!
OK. OK? OK!
Sure. Sure? Sure!
Even a one word answer meaning the same thing means something different based on the sounds and syllables of the speaker-writer.
The cadence of language is part of the experience of language. There's no need to focus on it. Be aware of it though, while you edit your work to help your writing.
It's like playing a song by ear. When we write and speak we listen to our inner voice and then shape it with the instrument called words.
Writers, if something sounds off in your prose and you're sure the words are right, now you know why. The rhythm of the sentence doesn't match the metronome of the message.
Poets don't waste words; novelists tend to.
Readers want to move the plot along while many authors describe the drapes.
If the curtains help set the stage, give insight into the character's state of mind, or foreshadow things to come... describe away!
Every word and rhythm of phrase should serve the story's success or cut it out.
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One interesting aspect of Wonder Fell is not knowing. Every morning I sit and write what's on my mind with the sunrise.
That's the intent.
History has little record of the personal ways of Poets. People made so much up. Fish stories... most of it.
Wonder Fell is a getting to know you session with a living poet. I never would've started it had I thought it would become one. The task sounds too vain. But I see now the importance.
How artists think and feel and experience the world is sorely lacking from our day-to-day experience.
AI is not making the artist's way obsolete; it's making every other way obsolete.
A prompt is a very poetical thing to write, indeed.
There's plenty of writing on AI and Science, and how AI will soon do all our Science for us, on Wonder Fell.
Back to the sunrise. Uneventful blue sometimes wispy cloud pre-Spring sky.
Nice day for a nice day kind of nice day.
Take care and make it a wonderful one.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎠carousel_horse
Archaic Slab