poetry du jour
— by David Plahm

Gee-Wizzy’s G-Code Dance

Gee-Wizzy’s G-Code Dance

Gee whiz, indeed!
Hello dreamer
Start of Dance

Gee-Wizzy’s G-Code Dance

What shall we—
Explore?

Well,
Golly Gee,
How about…

“Gee” codes

Gee Whiz
Gee WoW
Gee Willikers
Gee Whiz Bang
Gee-tar-nall
Gee-haw
Gee Gosh
Gee Golly
Gee Louise
Gee Wowie Zowie
Gee Willies
Gee Crickets
Gee Wally
Gee Gadzooks
Gee Golly Gumdrops
Gee Mercy
Gee Whip-a-dee-doo
Gee Bang-a-rang
Gee-Oh-My
Gee Whaaat?!
Gee…seriously?
Gee String – Hmmm
Gee not again…
Gee Grandma!
Gee-hawkins!
Gee-manetti!
Gee-rooney!
Gee-wizz-a-rooney!
Gee you made me blush
Gee, thanks a ton
Gee Criminy
Gee Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat

Ok, that’s playful.
But what about direction?

“G” Codes!
The language of CNC machine code.

G0
G1
G2
G3
G4

What do those mean?
Motion made
Manifest in code!
A choreography of purpose—
Like dance…

G0 – Rapid Move
No time to Waste!
Zoom to Position
The music is about to begin
A gasp of anticipation…
Let’s GO!
“Gee-ZiP!”

G1 – Linear Move
Slow and steady…
The dance begins—
Every step intentional.
“Gee Flow.”

G2 – Clockwise Arc
Round we go, to the right.
Spinning like a vinyl groove.
Maybe a love loop.
A flirt, a whirl,
a brush against you.
“Gee Spin Right.”

G3 – Counterclockwise Arc
The leftward spiral.
Rewind the story,
Or go back to where the thread broke.
That brush—
With you
Oo
La
La…
“Gee Backtrack.”

G4 – Dwell (Pause)
Wait.
Hold.
Think.
Breathe…Deep
That sacred pause
With an appreciative smile,
A wink,
A brush of our lips,
An affectionate squeeze—
Before the gentle nudge
To continue
The Dance.
“Gee Stillness.”

G69 – Syncopation
A jazz hand.
Played again and again.
A skip in the groove?
A moment of birth.
A moment of inspiration.
Off-beat, off-balance, on purpose.
“Gee Twist!”

I need that brush—
My hands,
Your hands—
Us—
Entwined.

The great dance of life
Can be described
As “Gee…” followed by an anecdote—
A burst of life,
An illumination of color.

A simple smile of wonder,
And an intimate, flippant movement—
A silly, sacred
Human expression.

And as…
“G…” followed by a number—
A line of direction
Guidance explicitly given
A command of intricate movement
With accurate precision of intent
A complicated, predictable
Square dance?

One is spontaneous
One is deliberate
Precision balanced with
…the spontaneous
…the unpredictable.

But together,
These “G”s
Are a rhythm
Of the great dance
We live.

I have a machine—
A robot—
With a “Gee Whiz”
“Good Golly
Miss Molly”
attitude.

Fun—
It executes commands
With a personality of
Whimsy.

“Maybe I’ll work correctly today.”
It hums—

While cooking breakfast.
Flippin’ pancakes
Shaped like a broken heart.
Smiling—
A casual wonder of
Machine discovery.

And…executing
Thoughts?
Without exact intent
Of performance.

It says…
“Gee, Grandma would be proud.”

I’m doubtful
Grandma
Would agree, but…

If only,
I could code
That whimsy
Into life.

Grandma said…
“Gee, just give me a fryin’ pan.
I’ll whack the “bejeezus” out of that
tangle of links and servos.”

But—
Whizzy…
Understands.

Grandma
Knows
Best.

And makes a
soufflé.

I am simply—
Amazed.

——————
End of Dance
Goodnight
Grandma
And Whizzy…

Gee?
Did this work?
This wordly trip down nowhere.
I simply
Humanly
Don’t know!
Is it musical, geeky, sensual, hilarious, or…
Just stupid?

Grandma!
Pass the pancakes.
I’m hungry.

Hey!
Where’s the butter?
Quit hoggin’ the syrup
Bro.

Whizzy’s
sitting in the corner
in a dream
of oil and cogs
and codes
of my possibilities.

I should be 6
Again…
Dreamin’.

Damn—

I feel like that cat—
trying to
cough up
a
hairball
but it’s stuck.
Still.
There.
That damn dog.

This
was so
convoluted.

I shall
Clear my throat.

It started out simple.
Now…
I need Grandma’s wisdom.

I’m
going
to
bed.

And dream…
peaceful
calm
memories
of my muse.

Gee
wizz-a-rooney
I am overwhelmed.

Talk with u
Tomorrow

GEE!!!
How much?
Do I love you?

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Goodnight
My dreamer

Cause,
I am!

And I’ll dream
Of you.

G∞ – Infinite Love

I dreamed
I danced
I doubted
I believed

In you
In the
Chaos
Of life
And
Your
Grace.

My Life
At the end
Of the Tunnel.

That light is
Enticing.

Is that
My
Muse?
I
See?

Clik,Whir,
My vision,
Becoming
Real?
And human?

I touch—

your
skin

Silk
And
Honey.

Ecstasy.

Whizzy
Doesn’t understand
That.

Robot dreams
Are not
Mine.

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David Plahm
Poet, Author, Founder
The Honey Bee Bard
An online gathering place for community and creativity.
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