I had the title for this floating around as an idea for a while, though long forgotten the intention of the original note I made. The story is a reflection on a time in my 20s when I met a girl I liked through a friend and picked her up and drove back to my house to talk. I was quite interested in her initially and enjoyed her conversation and company until, at some point in the evening, I realised that she was almost exactly a female version of me. This bothered me so much that I immediately took her home and never caught up with her again! This probably says a lot about my state of mind at the time and I couldn’t handle this deep a look into the mirror.
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Lonely and dissatisfied, he hides away, can love really be found through a screen? On seeing the ad, he heard himself say, what could growing your own girlfriend mean?
So he planted the iridescent seed, confiding every want and dream. A stalk, then buds, with viral speed, uncurls and decrypts its seam.
A woman with eyes of binary code stepped out from the largest bloom. Quickly learning how to leave this node, the neon static teacher in this room.
Her thoughts were just his own, replayed; her humour matched his, beat for beat. A pixellated playlist, thus she stayed, making his own emptiness complete.
She is an unblinking mirror, a glitching flicker; her program fully bound by his own needs. She stares out of the window, and he feels sicker, understanding now where this desire leads.
I posted the original version below to AllPoetry.com and got feedback from the AI there and so tightened things up to the version above.
V1:
Lonely, he hides away, dissatisfied, can love really be found through a screen? On seeing the ad, he quickly replied; what could growing your own girlfriend mean?
So he planted the iridescent seed, confiding every want and dream. A stalk, then buds, with frightening speed, uncurl and slowly split their seam.
A woman with eyes the colour of steel, stepped out from the largest bloom. Quickly learning how to think and feel, from her only teacher in this room.
Her thoughts were just his own, replayed; her humor matched his, beat for beat. A perfect echo, thus she stayed, making his own emptiness complete.
Her flawless mirror gave him chills; her spirit fully bound by his own needs. She stares out of the window, and he stills, understanding now where this desire leads.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Carpe Diem
As each day arises, welcome it as the best Make it your own and seize what flees You only have one chance at this test Do your best and be your best, with ease
When you light a fire under his leaf The frog has no alternative except to leap Perhaps the fire is just a misguided belief Pushing to keep up, the paranoia runs deep
The ‘sputnik effect’.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Good and Evil? Look At Your Choices
You instinctively understand The right thing to do Let reason guide your hand To the right choice for you
Covered in its perfume Splits along the blush Tender age in bloom* Blues buried the crush Seeds outgrew the rind Bitter harvests follow pursuit Tasted its sweetness blind Bruises on the fruit* Core outlasts the bite An acerbic birthday suit Succumbed to the blight
Written for dVerse Quadrille – bloom. Based on two lines from Nirvana’s In Bloom*. ‘Flowerage’ in honour of the Descendents.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Righteousness Is Beautiful
There are many tricks to showcase beauty But it’s a deception in which to trust Choose and even keel, a commitment to duty Even-tempered, self-controlled, and just
chaos we’ve embraced ignoring all predictions they saw it coming!
prepared, they had already dug their holes it turns out we’re the bad guys but that we’ve always known
propaganda will not win this war, and our winter is coming soon
no one notices the autumnal leaves falling with small silent bombs
hostages held in helicopters
a message must be sent, so they shoot the white girl first
Written for the Chimeric Poetry Scavenger Hunt – a Mosaic Haiku: the 1st stanza is a Zappai or Senryu, 5-7-5 the 2nd is a Kimo, 10-7-6 the 3rd an American Sentence, 17 the 4th a traditional Haiku having a seasonal word, 5-7-5 the 5th is a Pi-ku 3-1-4 the 6th is a Lune 5-3-5 and, once again, utilising Punam’s dVerse prompt, which asked us to use opening lines from books as closing lines to poems. This one is “They shoot the white girl first,” from Paradise by Toni Morrison.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
You Are The Project
The raw material is your guiding reason Your mind, the asset – you, the project The professional has no laurels on which to rest They know that practice makes perfect
We, the living knowledge, remember it – difficult ideas, things of beauty – struggle was the gift given up voluntarily, like a candy comforter, where rotten teeth bring pleasure. We build new campfires with old tales to listen to and think on the past – it was a pleasure to burn.
Written for dVerse – golden shovel and, once again, utilising Punam’s dVerse prompt, which asked us to use opening lines from books as closing lines to poems. This one is “It was a pleasure to burn,” from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Could this then be considered a golden triangle?
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
What’s Truly Impressive
The gossip and notoriety of the rich and famous Certainly reveals some sort of impression Perhaps it impresses the ignoramus Overpowered by their own obsession
the turtle does not tell of things he does not know – only what he’s lived –
the wolf remains strong lower than all that sustains – the pack remains strong –
the eagle carries the heart of all the worlds – sharing his teachings –
the bear looks on life with the strength to face her fears – protecting her young –
the beaver’s vision a natural gift within – the way it is done –
the raven, correct understanding how to walk – together, in life –
here, the buffalo maintains the balance and needs of all creations
Shared with dVerse Poetics – The Seven Grandfather Teachings I might come back to this prompt as I’m not that happy with this write. Indigenous Art by Michelle Stoney (except the raven, adapted by Ernie)
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Show, Not Tell, What You Know
You ate the words but failed to digest Is your philosophy just a fancy quote? Actions are the better way to invest Your time towards what you would promote
Written for GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 30: Try writing your own poem that discusses a real or mythical being or profession (demons, firefighters, demonic firefighters) with the same sort of musing yet dispassionate tone. And talking of lyrebirds, this write is very obviously a mimicry of the example poem for this prompt, Angels by Russell Edson.
They are of little use. They are best as objects of ridicule. Yet no government runs without them.
Like lyrebirds, and yet almost human . . . They communicate by briefly looking at each other. Their legs are like red jellybeans.
Sometimes they have been said to inspire a President to do more with his life than he might have. But what else is there left for a President to do with his life?
…Their ears burn beautifully with a red flame.
When they cry out, it is like the screech of a tiny hinge; the cry of a bat. No one hears it . . . Yet fist pump bigly.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Make Character Your Loudest Statement
Carry no uniform No stereotype Your character Breaks down all hype
1994ever 