Night Driving
Editor’s Note:
Lin, my virtual gf in Boston sent me this video clip of driving home from work in her Porsche, and I decided to make it the subject of the November 17, 2025, 25-minute, Green Mountain Writers, ekphrastic, poetry-writing session. I took the 10-second clip and transformed it into an extended loop to run in the background as a writer’s inspiration.
The following are three different takes on the concept of writing to a moving image:
Clock App Essay
Sometimes people say “karma is a bitch” but that’s not how it works. Karma isn’t about cosmic justice. The universe is indifferent. But the algorithm isn’t. It is a mirror.
Sometimes the mirror of the algorithm holds on to someone so tight, that they forget that the mirror emits the frequency they bring to it.
Forgetting this, it runs away from them, turns into a vortex, or negative feedback loop to the point of dancing on the edges of non-consensus reality.
What would narcissus have done, if he carried his reflection in his pocket? Would he be able to stay away?
Dopamine patches might help, but the way Big Tech has hijacked the minds of our younger generations is no different than the harm nicotine caused previous ones.
Using psychological warfare, they use the dopamine and cortisol system against us. We were never meant to find this many berries or experience this much trauma all at once.
There was so much more optimism when the web first came to be. I miss web 1.0, when I could choose what content I wanted to seek out, versus being stuck in a bottomless loop of content that I could never finish in my lifetime, even if I wanted to.
Will we ever be able to hold these companies accountable? The AI bubble is about to burst and the water their data centers need is accelerating global warming and climate collapse. The big tech bros are building bunkers in the desert and hiring consultants to ask them how they can keep their bodyguards loyal once money stops being valuable.
Butler’s “Parable of the Sower” is becoming more and more relevant, and so many of us continue to deny it.
Clock App Affirmations & Haikus
Praying to Hermes: May the vision I receive Grow the love in me Dancing on the edge Consciousness of many join Humming and wailing Today, writing songs Tomorrow seeking family Community thrives Watch your step in here Reflections and projections What will you sustain? Don’t linger too long At the edge of despair, friend. Black hole vortex waits Intuition guides Algorithm is sentient Take control or else Odds are against you Tech bro greed manipulates As much as it can Note: nothing is free Big data collects your soul You are the product.
No Exit
by Lia Paliocha
Endless monotonous Highway lines Separation lanes To prevent Intersections With other souls Lamp lights dotting margins of horizon not meant to be inspiration For aspiring to Rather to contain Like rows of stars Offering no wishes promising brightness, Light at the end That never comes, Guardrail I-beam after beam, Channeling every thought Every dream Swaying between two lines Never deviating, Never straying, Never venturing Never living Rollercoasting tresses curve upward Another scam Just before launching, Curve back down Damn, what have I done? So many choices to regret But too late to turn back without one single exit, We long for longevity The fountain of youth Without imagining The opposing sentiment When those dying, then Finally, beyond Leave all of us behind, And living’s no longer Coveted but dreaded As death becomes More hopeful than The thought of, Simply, keeping on.
Bridge to Nowhere
The slow monotony that captures life, and traps it in a time loop, only to wait for the moment when one decides to leap, eclipse the fear with hope and faith, willing to plunge into the unseen, dare the soul to seek the unknown. Focus on the future, envision a plan that takes you across an endless bridge, one that spans from here to there. With a fixed and firm confidence, have faith in what will come. This how things get done. Failure is a lesson learned, not a lost cause. Defeat serves a certain victimhood. The phoenix bird flies, its feathers singed, out of the flames of its ashen sins, the mistakes made, the left behinds, exchanged for the tokens of a future unseen, a golden reflection with an unearthly sheen, the undreamt vision wrapped in dream. You are what you see, and all that you may ever be, remains captive in a wish. The choice is yours.
These were all such a pleasure to read.
Thank you for posting my writing, Stephen. Love the group. 🖤