The young Jacobal received another update to the child’s toy.  He was asked to have it generate poetry.

Here is what was generated by the new machine’s software;  shown in reverse, chronological order:

Poetry from the Child’s Toy Prototype

Jacobal laughed more than a few times and responded back to the developers by mentalmark; as usual.

Jacobal still remembered that strange story that the machine had made in an earlier version:

The Young-Earth Atheist

… so he laughed again.  The potential was great, but it sure had a long way to go before it could go on the market, if ever.

Some of the stanzas were not bad, some needed work, and many needed to be thrown out altogether; or so Jacobal thought.

The team wanted the machine to have a unique personality built in.  They wanted creativity at the risk of failure.  This idea was not good for Return on Investment (ROI) and management usually had the final say in such matters.

T.L. Toys was an altogether different sort of toy company.  Located in a unique location with unique opportunities to be exploited, it had potential in the high-end children’s toy department that nobody else but the T.L. cofounders had thought could be done.


So Nice Together

So nice together are

chocolate, coffee, and kief.

Their three sounds starting as:

“cha”, “ka”, and “kee”.

Their sounds  roll off of my mind’s tongue,

as they travel down the tunnels,

left over from old, dusty thoughts.

Their journey cleans the dirt,

from the edges,

of the tunnels,

as the sounds pass by.

One is soft:


Two are sharp:

“ka” and “kee”

The kief goes first,

as it is the sharpest.

The coffee and chocolate are last;

they polish,

they shine,

the thoughts tunneled past.

Their three smells and tastes,

so nice after heat.



dark and neat.

Their three,

distinct feelings on the brain,

are thrice relief,

all sooth, excite, yet soothe

(in the main).

Relative Sieves


David S. Ullery

I like to chat and talk with friends,

or sometimes relatives.

But if I chat and stay too long,

their two ears,

become two sieves.

They try to leave,

if I do not perceive,

that chatting,

takes four ears.

Some one-way talk,

may last so long,

it may feel to them like years.



when I am alone,

I wonder,

if ever,

my mind can come home.

If there is something to say,

then make it clear,

with nothing to worry,

and holding no fears.

More often than not,

it is best to stop,

if the topic is not hot,

to non-filtered ears.

That is one very friendly fellow,

and one very kind soul,

who listens a lot,

when the topic,

is not very cool!

It’s Cool to Be Alive


David S. Ullery


It is cool to be alive,

And to be aware,

All at the same time

Being aware,

Of being aware,

Of being aware,

Of whatever happens now

The Universe is real,

And so am I

It is a delight to be alive,

And to be aware,

Without a care,

In a world so small

It is a cool breeze that blows,

And makes me aware,

Of time,

For the breeze makes a sound,

When it blows in my ears

When my mind does travel down a dark path,

Being aware,

Without a care,

With the breeze in my hair,



Removes all of the fear


The Gene Meme Machine Scene


David S. Ullery

The backyard keeps its grass in a lawn,

But not Straight.

Wild, white flowers with roses,

Gather around its rounded edge on one side.

The gene,


Survival machine,

Enters the backyard scene;

To exercise,

To clean.

The yard is now Straight.

The wild,

White flowers,

The roses;

They remain.

The lawn,

The machine;

They are trim.

The Garage is Great


David S. Ullery

The Garage is Great,

It holds so many Treasures now.

The Garage is Great,

It holds most of my books,

So nicely,

So neatly,

So organized,

On Bookshelves.

The Garage is Great,

It holds the screws,

So nicely,

So neatly,

So organized,

To hold each shelf in place,

on its proper bookshelf.

The Garage is Great,

It holds the boards,

So nicely,

So neatly,

So organized,

To become the shelf,

held in its proper bookshelf.

The Garage is Great,

It holds so many Treasures now,

The books,

The niceness,

The neatness,

The orderliness,

And even one Car!

Do You Believe


David S. Ullery

Do you believe,

That if I leave,

And go into another room,

That I will find,

As I look behind,

The handle of a broom?

Could we perceive,

Life’s treasures we leave,

And the people who leave us too soon,

That when we are kind,

As we  sweep the dirt behind,

The memories still have some room?