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Big brother with big stick,
Mending the lines of flock -
Stern yet caring and loved.
Big Don with big gun,
emptying pockets of shun,
cruel, uncaring and detested.
The abrupt shift,
the slice of hand,
the swap of mask,
the turn of hat,
awed everybody.
One always stumbles,
And falls to ground.
It matters to onlooker -
how gracefully they getup -
and fall in line of the great race.
When you are waiting,
And nothing happening.
Not even a fickle of wind,
Not even a leaf is falling,
Not even a cricket is chirping.
The sky blue, orange and radiant
And just stuck like a painting.
The bird in the nest,
silently staring at you.
The music from far away,
playing without a change in rhythm.
The whole nothingness is fulfilling.
✓ You are the expert in the field!
✓ You have lot of relevant and recent experience in the same field.
❖ Yet - when communicating to someone about it, hold your horses.
✓ Stop thinking intuitively about how much you can and will talk about this.
✓ Stop default mode of dumping all your years of acquired knowledge to other person.
❖ Take a pace back and think - what other person is expecting.
❖ In other words - what other ear is hoping to hear. (Thus Alter-ear or Alter-lobe in the title)
✓ (Put yourself in their shoe - and think what are they expecting from you. )
✓ Start pre-preparation.
❖ Think introspectively - if given a chance, what are they asking you?
❖ What's their single most important - one and only question?
✓ Answer only that question.
✓ And then give them an actual chance to probe you more.
✓ Follow-up and expand your communication to follow their line of thought.
✓ You are still an expert.
❖ But now you have become a recognized expert.
✓ Remember "communication" is better a "conversation" - not a one way radio.
Withered by the surprising storm,
Forced to take shelter here,
In this cave atop the hill.
--
Once upon an era back -
This used to be my favorite,
Too many memories floating here.
--
Then, it happened -
Gods fought a war here,
Ferociously and fiercely.
--
The whole valley and hill charred,
All that is lively is dead.
All that is green and brown is charred.
--
Gods rode away -
After a brokered truce,
Leaving all that is dead.
--
After storm passed -
Stretched and strolled -
Scanning all over.
--
Everything I glanced -
Made my heart heavy -
Destressing and depressing.
--
But at the center of it all,
Deep in the valley,
A lonely plant cheered me.
All I strive is to get into a rhythm,
And keep dancing until the music fades.
--
All this grilling, tiling and meditation -
All this spacing, dashing and tripping -
Is to find that nice rhythm I can keep dancing.
--
For so long,
I kept my eyes,
Pealed open -
Deciphering truth,
As I see fit.
I am going blind,
Little by little
Day after day.
With all this -
Bright light
Directly shed on me.
I need much more luminescence,
To make true sense -
Of what's in front of me -
All these years.
I built a glass lighthouse tower
And filled with fog
Only entagled can peak in.
But,
The machines taken over in a night
With,
Fancy vision they probed deep
Feeling me naked -
In my own foggy lighthouse glass tower.
I wrote a poem like I usually do sometimes.
One of my friends asked metaAI to explain it, it did OK. But some Brilliance I could see, which used to be reserved for humans until recently.
Today, I asked chatGTP same question and below is its lengthy explanation. It captured essence of poem very well.
----
This poem captures a sense of exhaustion, determination, and the pursuit of a goal, possibly against a backdrop of inner conflict or hardship. Here's an interpretation of its key elements:
Middle of the journey,
My eyes are burdened, burning and bright red.
I can not stop now,
Time for my three shot poison.
Across the lake,
where Salmon sheds salt,
there lies my flag.
I keep rolling
day after day.