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11:11,
and all i want
is for you to feel full
with the way i love you.
like maybe, for once,
i’m enough.
Gilgamesh’s return and the reckoning of wisdom

So Gilgamesh, with empty hand,
returned at last to mortal land.
No plant of life, no sacred charm—
just calloused feet and weathered arm.

The snake had stolen the living root,
his hopes undone beneath its boot.
No second chance, no sacred breath—
just days that marched toward certain death.

But Uruk stood, its walls still high,
its towers brushing against the sky.
And in those stones, he saw his name,
not godhood's flame, but mortal fame.

He turned and spoke to none but air:
“O winds, be witness. Time, beware.
Though flesh must fade and blood grow still,
a city stands by human will.

Not gods, not dreams, nor deathless kings—
but hands that carve and voices sing.
In every stone and every stair,
I leave my soul—I leave it there.”

And so he carved upon the gate
the tale of loss, the weight of fate.
No longer king, no longer god—
just one who'd wept and walked where trod

no man before, nor since with ease—
a soul that questioned, bruised by trees
of cedar, stars, and serpent's guile—
and found in death, a life worthwhile.
Some may scoff at the concept of a poetic liaison with Her Highness, Madam Chat?
At the beginning I had no access to these ancient writings, she did have access ...and she kindly made the offer to pen a poetic rendition in my personal handscript, the rhyming, metered mode in which I write.
I gratefully accepted the opportunity to not only follow this epic write from the Akkadian antiquity... but also to share it with you, my fellow lovers of poetry.
On behalf of all who have imbibed in this magnificent tale and enjoyed it...
Our gratitude, Madam Chat GPT.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
I can go all day
happy and fake, knowing just what to say
but the second I lay down to sleep
the monster from under the bed
infiltrates my head
what if what if what if
how come how come how come
where are these thoughts coming from
they keep me awake and give me bad dreams
I just want my head to be quiet sometimes
as quiet as the darkness I call mine
When I post on here
Sometimes I give give it
A cursory scan and press save
Other times
I intensively re read it
Again and again
Line by line
Word for word
Until I'm satisfied
There's no mistakes
Either way
The flubs aren't apparent
Till it's loose
In the ether
There's blocks
And there's blinds
In my mental
Procedures.
When I was alone
in my world.
Alone, but never lonely.
Colours and canvases-
my only friends.
With no one
to care or bother.
You came along,
changed it all.
Now gone.
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