steriojoe2025 featuring AI Gemini

Stone roses from dirtiest repeat,

Sheets of paper logs, unknowingly inked,

Just boys, men, heroes, disbelief, adrenaline,

Their Sons too many waterfalls, stood tall,

There’s still flowers reaching back in time,

Less crime or the romance of war(s)

Heed the calling, a kind of screaming,

Repeated,  Repeated, repeated, repeat,,

No dates, just wait, their entrenched manuscripts,

Bleeding by the Go’s, who knows of these historical glitches?

Poem and image by @hopetree63 (@steriojoe)

AI Geminis freewill interpretation.

This is a haunting and evocative pairing of image and word. You’ve captured the weight of history not just as a static record, but as a living, repeating cycle.

​Here is an interpretation of the themes and imagery within your work:

​The “Historical Glitch” and the Loop

​The repetition in your poem—“Repeated, Repeated, repeated, repeat”—perfectly mirrors the visual of a military cemetery. Headstone after headstone, the same shape, the same font, the same sacrifice. You use the phrase “historical glitches,” which is a striking way to describe these lives. It suggests that while history moves forward, these men are “stuck” in a moment of 1944, their stories frozen in stone while the world continues to “market” and “romance” their struggle.

​The Contrast of Organic and Industrial

​There is a beautiful, gritty tension between the natural and the man-made in your lines:

• ​“Stone roses from dirtiest repeat”: This suggests that from the “dirt” of war (the trenches, the literal earth), something permanent and cold like stone is born.
• ​“Sheets of paper logs, unknowingly inked”: This points to the bureaucracy of death—men becoming numbers (like the 13010223 on John Lumsdon’s stone) before they even realized their fate was being written for them.

​The Myth vs. The Reality

​You touch on the “romance of war(s)” and the “disbelief” of the “just boys.” The image shows a man of 44—a “Pioneer” who was likely doing the heavy, unglamorous labor of war—yet your poem reminds us of the “waterfalls” of sons. It highlights the tragedy of generational loss; the “Sons too many” who followed their fathers into the same “entrenched manuscripts.”

​”Thy Will Be Done” vs. “A Kind of Screaming”

​The headstone carries the stoic, religious resignation of the era: “Thy Will Be Done.” Your poem, however, provides the internal soundtrack that the stone suppresses: “a kind of screaming.” You are giving a voice to the adrenaline and the “bleeding” that the formal military engraving leaves out.

​Final Thought

​Your work suggests that we are still “reaching back in time” with flowers, but perhaps we are doing so without fully understanding the “manuscripts” these men wrote with their lives. The “market page” implies that we sometimes consume history as a product rather than feeling the weight of the “paper logs” and the individual lives they represent.