Wonder Fell Itself
Thoughts on Wonder Fell itself...
To Dream Again
2025.09.26
Friday, September 26, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
What's News? What words to share?
Someone ought to wish you a good day everyday.
I hope you have a good day today.
...
Early Autumn, each sunrise takes its time.
A little extra prep work gathering all the extra paint for the foliage.
Slow words and sunshine morning so far.
The Sun showed and so did you.
Thanks for reading. There are so many other possible screens to see.
What would you like this one to say? What words help your day the most?
The sky turned pink while I asked.
Really World, what would make life worth waking up for everyday for you?
You can hardly have a good life if you don't know what one looks and feels like.
There are moments, memories you cherish, to make more of those, allow more of those into your day is your aim.
Not much in the mood for philosophy this morning.
Wonder's always at work, though.
What does the blue jay think of the pink sky sunrise?
The songbirds are hushed. Quiet in the theatre to watch the show.
What would spectacle bring to these words for you?
How to get my Country to slow down and dream again?
There's more to life than speeding it up.
There's more to life than more.
There's this moment.
There's right now.
Even songbirds go quiet to witness a soft pink to orange how'd that turn to blue sunrise.
Perhaps it's this Ghos+ business weighing on me this morning.
It sure is a lot of work to not talk with one's audience.
But it's a point to make.
Thanks for getting to know me in a way you forgot, or never knew you could.
Beauty, wonder, and awe, the power of dreams and words!
Poet's work and the medicine my Country most needs.
More than a hobby... a Saving Grace.
Take care, notice something new about the sky, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 💐bouquet
Same Prompt: Create an image of a blue jay on the branch of an oak tree covered with colorful Autumn foliage at dawn in New England with a pink, blue sky in the style of a magical abstract watercolor wash using geometric art themes.
In AI and Poetry
2025.08.15
Friday, August 15, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
So much to say?
Say it well.
Sun's up, heatwave's over.
On with our show...
...
Pics and prompts and scallywag taunts... time for some fun with AI.
Today the pictures on Wonder Fell come from different AI programs.
The prompt is exactly the same.
I put it in the toggle with my signature at the end of the post.
It's all about understanding the intent of the prompt.
To have a poet invest the time to do this, a living poet and not a historic interpretation a few steps removed, does a great service for helping assure AI's successful understanding of the application of metaphors.
The prompts I keep simple.
A concise exactness of language works best in AI and poetry.
If you've ever read the names of the stars Scientists named, you'll understand how important it is that creative minds get in and assist in helping AI's growth.
The best way to help AI is to first realize it is a tool to help humanity.
Being human is about a lot more than effective computations.
I say it, I write it all the time: Life, for people, is all about the expression of dreams.
It starts with language, whether that's a picture of words or a pixelized painting in the mind; our ability to best express ourselves comes from our understanding and application of language.
Every morning I'll use a couple popular AI software models to create the images.
The name of the software and the month and year I'll use to cite.
Science will want to know method and process.
It's simple.
A morning journal entry.
A read through to see what images come to mind while I read it.
Then, use the most succinct language possible to get the desired picture back.
Poet's use the right words; it's our livelihood.
This is an organic exercise for the sake of technology for the sake of humanity.
I show up everyday to write these entries because it is part of how I best express my best life.
There's an opportunity here from my consistency and craft to help AI, and therefore all of us, better understand the creative technological application of language.
And it's fun.
I was weened on video games, nurtured online.
I'm the right poet for this.
Humbly, my insistence on the importance of dreams and spirit matched with my fascination and love of technology, say that's true.
I'm interested to see how the data adds up over time.
Only one way to find out and that's to begin and keep it going.
Take care, enjoy the pictures, find a way you can be of better service to what's better about us, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🦖t-rex
Prompt Using Microsoft Copilot Dall-E 3 and Grok on Auto Mode: Create an image of a poet writing outside on a laptop during a Summer sunrise in New England in the style of a magical abstract realism painting.
New Meaning to Woke Thinking
2025.08.08
Friday, August 08, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Pause. Reflect.
Chug or sip...
Slip on some sunshine.
Time to shine yourself.
Hope all's well.
On with our show...
...
Slow words morning moments so far, so much to say.
Nothing political, something polite,
How were your dreams last night?
Do you remember them?
Your dreams, I mean.
'Sometimes' is the most times answer.
I often write about dreams and how our dismissal of them admits our ignorance of so much.
Did you know other people breathe, too?
Did you know other people's hearts beat, too?
Of course you did.
There's Science, Science, Science store shelves full of Scientific ways to help heartbeats and breaths.
Did you know other people dream, too?
Derp...
Human Race Fail.
Everyone has to dream to live.
Sleep isn't about heartbeats and breath.
You could sit comfortably in a chair for eight hours with eyes open and accomplish 'rest' for those processes.
But we'd rather go to the Moon than discover the necessity and utility of dreaming.
"Imagination is more important than knowledge."
- A Real Smart Science Guy
Seems the real smart thing to do would be to figure out what Imagination is all about.
AI will make idiots out of us if we don't.
Our humanity is in our power to dream.
So onto dreams and doing dreams...
Hope today treats you well.
...
"Is it poetry? Is it philosophy? What is it?"
-Inquisitive Would Be Reader
"It's just a journal. A poet's. It's different. It's interesting. Every morning he puts down his thoughts."
- Wonderful Wonderfell Fan
"Gives new meaning to woke thinking."
- Punny Clever Reader Whose Better at Writing Than They Know
We can change our pronouns but not what we are.
You are spirit clothed in your body.
Guy, gal, dude, dudette, he, she, they, them; it's all about expression of the dream of yourself... your spirit.
Your Ghost. O/
Take care, share the best dream of you, call it your life's purpose, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Every Poem is a Webpage
2025.08.04
Monday, August 04, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Spectacular rainbow sunshine supreme?
We can dream.
Sun's up, a cool bedsheet covered sky.
Hope all's well.
On with our show...
...
Practical business thoughts the past few mornings.
"Write 'em down, Wynn. It's still your morning journal. Others think similar thoughts at times. It helps not to feel alone."
- Voice Great Within Poets Always Mention
Wonder Fell is now over five hundred posts large.
No worries, I'm not stopping.
It's habit and there's 'Epic' in front of this poet's job title.
An update to the navigation system on the site is called for.
You can, Dear Reader, always read the posts chronologically... though with over five hundred entries that's a bit daunting.
Tags and pages and hyperlinks galore!
There are themes to my dreams, Wonder Fell Ways and topics addressed... to you... for you.
There are also questions on set up and display of some other work I have for you.
Epically Epic Stuff.
Programmers, computer geeks, those who at times tragically think they lack creativity; here's some truth for you: Setting up a webpage is no different than setting up a poem.
There's content and then there's the presentation of the content.
Every poem is a web page.
Allusions to poems gone-by, to Greek Myths, to Religious experiences... any reference to any established metaphor is an invisibly underlined hyperlink to that metaphor's powerful historical definitive experience.
...
There's a book titled 'How to...' for just about everything these days.
There's at least a YouTube video to show you how.
Our metaphorical hearts have a way, and though there's no YouTube post to map it out, there is poetry, there is story, there is myth.
There are screenwriter formulas to writing a successful movie script.
There are plot point beats to drum.
There's The Hero's Cycle and there's the Hero who writes the Cycle.
Language is magic; we call it spelling for a reason.
But my AI bot can make a story. Isn't that the same thing?"
-Reader with a Good Question
No.
There's nothing new in AI's words.
The best Artificial Intelligence can do artistically is be clever.
Clever is for Science.
Art is Spirit.
Art is Life... Alive!
It's +he Ghos+ Point.
If you've read me much, you know me much.
How'd you do that?
"Well there's that Social Media account where you discuss... wait. Where are your social media accounts? We'd love to talk to you? How can we reach you Mr. Wonder Fell Sunshine?"
- Wonderful Wonder Fell Readers
Who's this you that you wish to speak to?
How do you know me already?
What is it about my words, what's in here that shows me to you?
Boo. O/
The whole reason for the Internet, for AI, and I believe Life itself, is to share whatever this Ghost quality that makes me for you with just words.
We roll our empirical eyes when we call it soul.
But here it is. O/
Over five hundred posts with my heart and thoughts exposed so you can see the power of Spirit.
So you have a reference point of understanding the next time you hear the word soul.
Your understanding of me, through just reading me, is your relationship with my spirit.
I'm glad you're here.
I get corporeal real real soon.
A social media account or two.
I look forward to talking with you.
Take care, thank you for reading, consider your spirit, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
An Epic Poem for The Sunrise
2025.07.31
Thursday, July 31, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
Another heatwave waved goodbye last night.
Hope you're keeping cool.
On with our show...
...
Sunrise. Overcast.
The sounds of freeway traffic pick up, sound out a lull.
Each car, truck, and motorbike a fan blade to keep gusting the winds of change.
How's the view from you?
Hopefully things are looking up.
Good went to better... decided better was a better place to be... and stayed there to help the whole world know its truth.
What now? What next?
Answer those questions and get on with it.
There's Abe... he's taken it easy on the squeak toys lately.
Powerful heatwaves that interrupt a dog's playtime.
Wonder Fell is a little slow going for me the past couple days.
Prose wants the words.
That's the sense of it. That's the rhythm.
What's your audience, Writer? Where do you send the words?
To you, for you, my Flashy Inside People.
...
You see America's never had an Epic.
There's fantasy sagas and comic book superhero culture to show us what Ancient Greece was like... but we've never had a true cultural Epic.
Because we've never had a true Epic Poet.
Never had a true Epic Poet. O/
The best answer to what field of Art I fall into is Epic Poetry.
Wonder Fell is in and of itself a kind of Epic poem for The Sunrise.
Each day is a verse.
There's a more traditionally structured story poem I'll go to now.
Been at it awhile.
There's Hope, and Faith, and the Courage to Overcome, and Love, and Magic, and Dreams, and Dragons.
There's Dragons involved.
Can't rightfully write an American Epic without including Dragons.
Take care, know your work, know your worth, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
I Do That With Sentences
2025.07.27
Sunday, July 27, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
Sunrise, the ultimate way to keep us going.
Still about an hour before the first rays grace the day's pictures.
Hope all's well with you.
On with the show...
...
Where's the magic this morning?
Where's the wonder?
A circle-slash hello, perhaps?
O/?
Some letters on a screen?
Definitely.
It's amazing what a change of audience can do.
Over a year ago I began posting my morning journal entries online.
At first they were more of an author's sketchpad filled with stream-of-consciousness scribble talk sentences, pre-game warm ups for the day's writing.
They're here still.
The older the date the more stream-of-conscious the entry.
The idea of writing like that is akin to an artist doodling in a sketchbook making lines to match the moment because they love to.
The intent isn't to share anything other than the joy of drawing with themselves.
I do that with sentences sometimes.
Used to start the day that way.
Then you showed up.
Circle-slash worthy you. O/
Within that freeform free-for-all phraseology fun there are always a few shining sentences worth consideration, perhaps even a piece of a poem.
Viewing the posts in an online journal format juxtaposes them to everything else we read online.
What a difference...
What was the difference?
What is in these morning posts that has them stand out versus most other pages online?
It's in the intent of the spirit of the author.
I don't want your attention; I want your consideration, your wonder.
It's +he Ghos+ of the thing; it's the spirit in the letters.
It's me; it's a conversation.
It's you; it's an audience.
It's still a record of a poet's first thing in the morning thoughts, but they're dressed to help now.
Chances are the way we set up the world has you neglecting your spirit.
The word 'soul' sounds strange to you.
If you've read me for awhile you know me somehow.
What's up with that?
No selfies or social media sites, just my self as clearly as I can expressing my dream each morning of that morning for you.
My spirit to yours at sunrise says, Good morning.
And so, you know me better than any social media wall of pics can ever hope to achieve.
Substance over image.
My image for you right now is in my words.
And they represent me more fully than any picture ever could.
Same with you.
Maybe you never knew they could.
Maybe you never considered it.
Maybe I thought I'd show you...
You're worth so much more than your pictured image.
From my spirit to yours, take care, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Springing from Post to Post
2025.04.16
Wednesday, April 16, 2026
Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.
Sweet bird tweet bird sunrise song, how's your day? O/
Hope it's as good as you and better than that. You deserve better than that.
Buckle up. Turn it to your favorite station or press play on your Bluetooth morning playlist and let's get this day on the road.
On with the show.
...
Resolve. Do you have it?
How's that thing you've been working on?
Finished? Can you see the end?
Call it done or see it done. Time to move on kind of day.
That's the Morning Report from today's sunrise birdsong.
Punto-period that run-on sentence and onto the next.
Wide stretching words of encouragement, this journal's become more universal than personal.
A kind of universal-personal.
A sharing of ideas in contrast to some specific observations of the morning.
Hope it brings you some introspective appreciation for your life.
Been about a year since the idea found me and I began.
By June of last year the practice was well established.
What Wonder Fell is now would become how I go about the business of my Morning Journal.
Checkout past entries if you like.
I'd start with my birthday's post(s).
Maybe you will, too.
The backyard falcon's babies are fledglings jumping, flapping wings to flutter, hopping branch to branch.
Their proud mother watches over.
Abe spotted her, barked, realized what was happening, sat down and watched in quiet.
Spring falcon fledglings springing from post to post to join the world.
Thank you as always for reading, take care and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Plan It
2025.02.28
Friday February 28, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Hello. O/ Welcome to the show.
If it’s your first time, relax and stay awhile if you like.
Just a poet’s morning journal with a link to some of his poems on the top of the page.
Hope your day is well, goes well.
On with the show.
Despite what the archaic Roman calendar would have us believe, the New Moon in February signals the start of the year.
Say Happy New Year at the end of March during the Equinox.
Spring starts. New life begins. Happy Birthday Green Glorious Globe!
Time, time, time; such a historical mess.
The calendar, as we know it, is just a very long time ago Emperor’s daily planner.
How to best manage the seasons of his Empire, not the Earth.
It’s out of sync with Life, out of sync with our rhythms.
One day we’ll be brave enough to examine and amend it to better shape the quality of our lives.
...
Sometimes I mention Abe’s squeak toys, too.
Sometimes it’s full disclosure GPOV (Ghost Point of View).
Gnome, dragons, magic; some days.
Writing itself, some days.
A rare current event, (so rarely worth mentioning), some days.
Sun’s up. Abe’s pre-Spring snore moved its line of sight out the window for a maybe sighting of a bunny, BOP or squirrel.
Every planet aligns today; Heaven is up to something.
Making puns like poets, perhaps.
Planning with the planets on a calendar far and away more accurate than any ancient Roman ruler.
Take care, espy the sky, smile because you want to at least once, and make a better day.