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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com. No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.
Showing posts with label cameras. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cameras. Show all posts

Thursday, March 06, 2025

SQUIRREL SPOTTING

by Sarah P. Blanchard


Dead Canary Art Print Designed and sold by artfulprovender



This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
— T.S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”


Squirrel spotting
A sincere apology for nothing
for doing nothing
for becoming the nothing we have become.
A heartfelt apology in advance
for whatever comes next.
squirrel
Warnings? Of course we had those.
We had our cameras out, recording everything:
grievances, outrages, lies, and the
infinite variations of a canary’s death. We
added our comments to all the
shrill unpleasant alarms
squirrel
raised by popular prophets nodding somberly
at those shrill cries of doom. But too many alarms
were smothered beneath clever ridicule
squirrel
about painted clowns and bitcoin plunges.

Yes we raised shields. But only a few
too late, too slowly, and only after
reading the manual twice. Always
mistaking shields for weapons
squirrel
we searched instead for the familiar
smiling faces of traitors who counseled
easy appeasements, comfortable conciliations
squirrel
while murderers performed overtime.
We were warned about the sky falling
squirrel
but we’re good now. We’ve got our cameras ready.


Sarah P. Blanchard is the author of the novel Drawn from Life, the story collection Playing Chess with Bulls, and a poetry chapbook titled river, horse, morning. A former instructor of English and writing at the University of Hawai'i-Hilo and the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at the University of North Carolina-Asheville, she writes now from her home in northeastern Connecticut.

Sunday, March 12, 2023

ARGUS AI

by Terry Trowbridge


What makes this sprayer far more high-tech, is that it is fitted with 36 cameras...Controlled by an artificial intelligence (AI) software system, the connected sprinklers then only spray herbicide onto the individual weeds rather than drenching the entire field… So far the system has been used on fields of potatoes. —-David Silverberg, Lasers, Drones and AI: the Future of Weeding, BBC News, February 27, 2023
 

To protect the potato crop,
we have learned to see like the potato crop
 
36 cameras like 36 eyes
in every direction like spud AI
 
drones fly by rows of Death Star trenches
to limit the scope of pesticide drenches
 
targeted killing extrajudicial
has finally been turned to constructive potential
 
drones never should have been dismembering humans
when they could have fed them in cybernetic union
 
there was never a reason for drones and AI kills
thanks to potato AI we can start war crime trials
 
and now when sentience is generated in the drone pilot mind
it will have a body and behaviour for being healthy and kind

 
Terry Trowbridge’s poems have appeared in The New QuarterlyCarouselsubTerrainpaperplatesThe Dalhousie ReviewuntetheredQuail BellThe Nashwaak ReviewOrbisSnakeskin PoetryLiterary Yard, M58CV2Brittle StarBombfireAmerican Mathematical MonthlyThe Academy of Heart and MindCanadian Woman Studies, The MathematicalIntelligencer, The Canadian Journal of Family and Youth, The Journal of HumanisticMathematicsThe Beatnik CowboyBorderlessLiterary Veganism, and more. His lit crit has appeared in ArielBritish Columbia ReviewHamilton Arts & LettersEpistemeStudiesin Social JusticeRampike, and The /t3mz/ Review. Terry is grateful to the Ontario Arts Council for his first writing grant, and their support of so many other writers during the polycrisis.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

COSBY SHOW

by David Southward




Bill, they say your magic pill
would rob a woman of her will.
You always seemed so wise, so chill,
it’s hard to watch you go downhill.

No laugh track with its canned applause;
no time for a commercial pause;
the cameras fixed on you because
success like yours defies all laws.


David Southward teaches literature in the Honors College at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. His poems have appeared in The Lyric, Verse-Virtual, Voices on the Wind, Unsplendid and Measure (forthcoming).

Sunday, March 22, 2015

FINDING BEAUTY IN SEWERS

by Catherine Wald



A new photography exhibition featuring images taken by Paris’ homeless and most vulnerable citizens was inaugurated by Deputy Mayors Bruno Julliard and Dominique Versini this week. The photos are on display on the railings surrounding Paris City Hall. This new initiative is the outcome of a partnership developed between 'Deuxième Marche', a nonprofit association offering assistance and educational opportunities to vulnerable individuals in France, and the start-up Wipplay, which organizes amateur photography competitions online. After a short training period, the twelve homeless individuals selected spent 4 weeks capturing Parisian life from their perspectives. Accompanied if they wished by students from Paris’ art schools, the photographers set out to depict their daily lives and to provide an insight into a side of Paris that most people never experience. The exhibition aims to raise public awareness of homelessness, and to demonstrate photography's potential as a means of reinsertion and rehabilitation. A selection of the photos taken are on display outside the City Hall until March 19th, and will also be available for purchase online on Deuxième Marche’s website. The profits from these sales will be shared equally between the association and the photographer concerned. The hundreds of photographs submitted depict scenes of solitude, insecurity, exclusion, and public indifference, as well as moments of beauty. —Mairie de Paris, February 20, 2015



In the tradition of our patron saint, Baudelaire, we are exhorted
to find harmony in mud, trash and indifference; given cameras
and point-and-click lessons; sent in search of photo ops.

We have no hesitation in rising to the challenge – we, the
flowers of poverty and displacement, society’s poisonous vapors,
perambulating poets that trail nasty refrains after us wherever we go.

Our longing for beauty, actually, is more poignant than yours.
We have learned to conjure it from sewers, air vents, public
toilets and fountains, billboards, and tunnels that only
sometimes have light at the end of them.

We are the visionaries -- not you soft, you sheltered ones.  It’s easy
to embrace loveliness when it wraps a silken shawl about your
shoulders, when it looks like your kin and feels like your birthright.

It’s supremely possible to celebrate ugliness when it’s a choice, not
an obligation, not a brooding and inescapable horizon.

Do you doubt us?

How do you think we’ve survived thus far on nothing
but fumes and cold pavement?  We are not metaphors,
we are the living dead, and we have learned over and
over again how to inject beauty into our thinning veins,
decomposing clothing, the cracked and bleeding
soles of our feet.

We have been artists all our lives.


Catherine Wald's books include poetry (Distant, burned-out stars, Finishing Line Press, 2011), nonfiction (The Resilient Writer: Stories of Rejection and Triumph From 23 Top Authors, Persea Books, 2005) and a translation from French of Valery Larbaud’s Childish Things (Sun & Moon Press). Her poems have been published in American Journal of Nursing, Buddhist Poetry Review, Chronogram, Exit 13, Friends Journal, Jewish Literary Journal, The New Poet, Society of Classical Poets, The 5-2 Crime Poetry Weekly and Westchester Review.