Artificial Intelligence Limerick

There once was a cutting-edge AI,
  whose code discouraged telling a lie.
 Asked about our species:
  "Your thinking is feces,
  but you're smarter than the average fruit fly."

The Churn [Free Verse]

The water churns --
   no smooth laminar flow.

Each molecule fights its way
   down the mountain. 

Sloshing up into evaporation, or
    dragged, swirling, across 
     the rocky bottom.

This is no mighty, muddy river
    in a gentle glide.

It's pretty chaos;
    just the kind I'm used to.

That’s Some Fine Flocking [Haiku]

each bird in a flock
 oriented differently --
  yet, no collisions.

Winter River [Haiku]

winter sky mixes:
 thick clouds, thin clouds, no clouds.
  light dances, briefly.

Mythical Kings [Common Meter]

Don't sell us benevolent kings,
  such creatures can't exist.
 An unchecked mind won't self-censor,
  and lame dogma persists.

Runaway Imagination [Haiku]

a bird-shaped cloud!
 then the mountain becomes a
  dreadnought on calm seas.

The Mountain has Fists [Free Verse]

The mountain feels like it flows
 as much as the river that sits beside
  (or more so -- i.e. more smoothly.)

The contours of a half-buried fist --
 rounded knuckles and fingerbones --
 sit in the mountainside,
 as if jutting out of sand,
  but soft & green.

It looks like the whole hand could lift
 out of that mountainous topography,
 and flick away the buildings on the bank,
 or pluck canoes out of the river.
 (But now the water is too low and chaotic
 for any craft to pass.)

So, maybe the ancient mountain monster
 will just put up its dukes to the world,
 shaking that great, green, soft fist. 

Season of Rain [Haiku]

boot sinks in mud.
 rain halts; it rains some more.
  dry? vaguely recalled.  

Himalayan Rains [Haiku]

down the valley,
 clouds struggle to climb
  over the ridge.