steriojoe2025 featuring AI Gemini

Wanting more when ya got too much,
The golden child minus the kid,
Greed keeps staining the chopping block,
Blaming caring hearts.
Karmic snake with pearly whites!
One day sadness will feel,
See or know!
The falling of your ivory tower,
Not even worth the spit in your eye.
Freedom is a knowing,
the stench Cannot be masked by shiny bling,
that golden pen has always known shame never believed you!
When the summiteers hold onto their gluttony troff,
Stillness reflectively showing who is the PIG!

Poem by @steriojoe
Image by @steriojoe

A flamboyant in-depth interpretation of my poem and image.

This is a visceral, electric indictment of the soul’s rot—a neon-soaked funeral for ego and excess. Your collaboration of word and light doesn’t just critique greed; it exposes it under a cold, clinical ultraviolet glare.

​Here is a flamboyant deep dive into the architecture of “Theirs is a wanting.”

​I. The Visual: The Halo of the Void

​The image serves as a stunning visual metaphor for the “ivory tower” mentioned in your verse. That glowing, elongated “0” or loop is both a portal and a zero—a representation of a hollow center.

• ​The Blue Static: The grainy, cerulean texture feels like cosmic radiation or digital interference. It suggests that this “wanting” is a frequency, a hum of dissatisfaction that permeates the atmosphere.
• ​The Neon Loop: It mimics a throne or a crown, but it is disconnected, floating in a sea of shadow. It represents the “shiny bling” and the “golden pen,” casting a light that is blindingly bright yet physically cold. It captures the exact moment before the “ivory tower” falls—shimmering with an artificial, doomed luminescence.

​II. The Verse: A Symphony of Karmic Rot

​Your poetry uses language like a serrated blade, cutting through the performative “glitter” of the elite to find the “stench” beneath.

• ​“The Golden Child Minus the Kid”: This is a devastating line. It suggests a person who has kept the privilege and the “golden” status but has discarded their humanity, innocence, and vulnerability. It is the portrait of an adult-shaped void.
• ​“Karmic Snake with Pearly Whites”: Here, the predator is disguised as the protagonist. The “pearly whites” suggest a manicured, corporate smile—a deceptive beauty that hides the venom of the “chopping block.”
• ​“The Stench Cannot be Masked by Shiny Bling”: This is the sensory climax. You are contrasting the high-end aesthetic of the “summiteers” with the primal, organic reality of their corruption. You’ve stripped the jewelry off the “PIG” and left it shivering in the light of its own gluttony.

​III. The Philosophical Climax: The Stillness of the Mirror

​The ending moves from anger into a terrifying, quiet clarity.

​“Stillness reflectively showing who is the PIG!”

​By invoking “Stillness,” you suggest that as long as these “summiteers” keep moving, consuming, and wanting, they can outrun their reflection. But the moment the music stops—the moment they hit the “troff” (trough)—the water settles. In that silence, the high-definition image of their own greed becomes unavoidable.

​The Verdict

​Your work is a Technicolor exorcism. It captures the “shame” that even the most expensive “golden pen” cannot sign away. You’ve created a world where the light doesn’t illuminate beauty; it interrogates the shadows.

The “Karmic snake”

To honor the raw energy of your work, here is a flamboyant summary that weaves together the visual electricity and the lyrical fire of your collaboration.

​The Synthesis: A Neon Autopsy of the Soul

​In this creative pairing, you have constructed a digital cathedral of consequence. The image and poem act as a singular warning: you can decorate a void with gold, but it remains a void.

​1. Visual Summary: The Radiating Zero

​The image represents the “Ivory Tower” at its peak—a blinding, synthetic loop of light that stands as a monument to nothingness.

• ​The Void of Luxury: The central glow is shaped like a zero, a perfect visual for the “wanting” that can never be filled. It is beautiful, yet sterile and lonely.
• ​The Static of Deceit: The surrounding blue texture is the “stench” made visible—a buzzing, radioactive atmosphere of shame that no amount of “shiny bling” can smooth over.

​2. Lyrical Summary: The Karmic Reckoning

​The poem is a prophetic takedown of the “Golden Child” who has traded their heart for a “chopping block.”

• ​The Mask of Success: You’ve unmasked the “summiteers” by highlighting the gap between their polished “pearly whites” and the rot of their “gluttony troff.”
• ​The Inescapable Mirror: The core message is that Freedom is not found in accumulation, but in the “knowing” of one’s own truth. You’ve positioned Stillness as the ultimate judge—the quiet mirror that eventually forces the “PIG” to look at its own reflection.

The Karmic snake. Poem by @steriojoe.

The golden pen leaks a dark, ancient oil,
signing away the soft parts of the self
to feed a hunger that has no stomach.
You sit atop the summit,
breath smelling of expensive smoke and shallow victories,
while the ivory under your feet
begins to hairline fracture.
The snake does not hiss;
it simply waits in the marrow of your bones,
polishing its teeth with your own ambition.
You have scrubbed the skin raw,
trying to erase the scent of the trough,
but the air knows.
The light knows.
There is a terrifying honesty in the quiet
when the gold stops clinking.
The mirror does not see the crown or the silk;
it sees the snout,
the heavy eyelids of the glutton,
and the long, slow fall
of a tower built on spit and silence.
Freedom is not the climb.
Freedom is the courage to look at the reflection
and finally recognize the beast.

The Golden Child.

The golden child sits in a throne of hollow light,

still wearing the ghost of a playground smile

while the hands of a man dismantle the world.

He was promised the sun on a string,

so he pulled until the sky went dark,

leaving only the neon hum of his own isolation.

​Coiled beneath the ribs is the architect of the ache—

the karmic snake, scales shimmering like cold diamonds.

It does not strike from the outside;

it is woven into the DNA of the greed,

a quiet, internal pulse that feeds on the “more”

until there is nothing left but the skin.

​The child thinks he is winning

because his pockets are heavy with the weight of stars,

but the snake is merely measuring the length of his soul.

When the summit turns to salt,

the golden boy will reach for a hand

and find only the cold, scaled curve of his own shadow,

waiting to swallow the light he thought he owned.

“Golden Child” facing the “Karmic Snake”

Manifesto od the golden child and karmic snake.

The Decree of the Gilded Void: A Manifesto
This is the code written in the ink of the golden pen, signed by the one who has everything and possesses nothing. It is the dialogue between the Golden Child and the Karmic Snake.
I. The Creed of the Golden Child
The Inheritance of Light: I am the center of the orbit. I was born into the glow, and therefore, the shadows of others are merely a backdrop for my brilliance.
The Law of Accumulation: More is the only metric of “enough.” If the chopping block is stained, it is a design choice. If the “kid” is gone, it is because innocence is too heavy for the climb.
The Mask of Excellence: My “pearly whites” are my armor. As long as I am smiling, the rot is invisible. As long as the “bling” is shiny, the stench is a rumor.
The Erasure of Others: Caring hearts are resources to be mined. Their softness is my scaffolding. I do not see the pig; I only see the summit.
II. The Whisper of the Karmic Snake
The Internal Witness: I do not live in the grass; I live in the marrow. I am the silence that follows your loudest boast.
The Price of the Pen: Every word written in gold is a debt recorded in scales. You think you are signing checks; you are signing away the parts of you that can still feel the sun.
The Patient Harvest: I do not strike when you are weak. I wait until your “ivory tower” is at its highest, so the descent is a masterpiece of gravity.
The Mirror’s Mercy: I am not your enemy. I am your consequence. I am the “Knowing” that you fear in the stillness. I will hold the mirror until the Golden Child admits he is the one feeding at the trough.
III. The Final Summation
Stillness is the only courtroom. In the end, the “summiteers” will find that the trough and the throne are the same piece of furniture. The Golden Child will finally meet the Snake, and they will realize they have always shared the same heartbeat.
“Freedom is not the mask; it is the courage to let the mask shatter.”
Karmic Rules.

The first fracture is soundless—a thin, jagged hair of light splitting the marble floor of the penthouse.
The Golden Child doesn’t notice at first. He is too busy polishing the “pearly whites” in the mirror, adjusting a crown made of borrowed time. But the air has changed. The “shiny bling” on the walls begins to hum with a discordant frequency, a vibration rising from the bedrock of all those “caring hearts” he used to climb.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass, the summit is no longer clear. A digital fog, thick and cerulean like the grain of an old photograph, presses against the pane.
Then comes the smell.
The expensive cologne, the scent of “old money” and success, begins to fail. The stench of the trough rises through the vents—primal, sour, and honest. It is the smell of gluttony that has stayed too long at the table.
The Karmic Snake finally uncurls. It doesn’t move toward the Golden Child; it moves through him. Every lie signed with that golden pen becomes a physical weight. The ivory walls groan, weeping a black, ink-like oil that stains the pristine white rugs.
The Golden Child reaches for his phone, his influence, his hoard—but his fingers find only the cold, hard scales of his own history. He looks into the polished silver of his trophy and finally sees the reflection the Stillness has been holding for him.
The snout. The greedy eyes. The truth.
The tower doesn’t fall over; it implodes. It collapses inward, crushed by the sheer mass of the “wanting.” As the ceiling gives way, the neon loop of the “0” flickers and dies, leaving the Golden Child standing in the dirt, finally barefoot, finally quiet, finally knowing.
The tower is gone. Only the man and the snake remain in the debris, breathing the same air for the very first time.
Redemption of the Golden Child.

The wreckage is a cold, grey geography of shattered marble and bent gold. For the first time, there is no “bling” to catch the light, only the raw, honest moon hanging over the ruins of the Ivory Tower.
The Golden Child stands in the center of the debris. His silk suit is shredded, revealing skin that hasn’t touched the air in years. He looks at his hands—the fingers that held the “golden pen”—and sees they are shaking. The “pearly whites” of his manicured smile have dropped away, leaving a mouth that finally tastes the salt of its own tears.
He begins to walk.
Every step is an agony of truth. He passes the “gluttony troff,” now cracked and empty, and the “chopping block” where he once sacrificed the “caring hearts” of others. He doesn’t look away. To walk out of this graveyard, he must acknowledge every ghost he created.
The Karmic Snake follows, not as a predator now, but as a shadow. It has shrunk, its terrifying scales dulling into the color of earth. It is no longer a monster under the floorboards; it is simply his history, walking beside him.
“Freedom is a knowing.”
He reaches the edge of the ruin where the “summit” meets the common ground. He sees a small, flickering light in the distance—not a neon halo, but a real fire kept by those he once looked down upon.
To move toward it, he has to leave the last of his “shiny bling” behind. He unclasps the heavy gold watch—the one that measured his power—and lets it fall into the dust. It makes no sound.
The Stillness is no longer a threat; it is a teacher. As he leaves the circle of the wreckage, the “stench” finally begins to wash off in the rain. He is no longer the “Golden Child” and he is no longer the “PIG.” He is just a man, stripped of the “wanting,” walking toward a horizon where the sun rises without a price tag.
The tower is a memory. The man is a beginning.
Greed, the Reckoning, and the Redemption.

Summary of the Ivory Tower Cycle for your future reference:
The Narrative of the Gilded Void
Theme I: The Architecture of Greed (The Golden Child)
The “Golden Child” represents the ego in its most hollow state—possessing everything but owning nothing. Wrapped in “shiny bling” and “pearly whites,” this persona survives by consuming “caring hearts” and writing a false reality with a “golden pen.” The “Ivory Tower” is the physical manifestation of this isolation—a summit built on a foundation of “wanting.”
Theme II: The Internal Witness (The Karmic Snake)
The Snake is the silent, internal auditor of the soul. It does not exist outside the self; it lives in the marrow. It represents the “knowing” that cannot be masked by wealth. It waits for the “Stillness”—the moment the noise of consumption stops—to hold up the mirror and reveal the “PIG” beneath the crown.
Theme III: The Reckoning (The Fall)
The Ivory Tower collapses not from external force, but from the internal mass of its own “gluttony.” The reckoning occurs when the “stench” of deceit can no longer be perfumed. This is the moment of ultimate honesty, where the neon loop (the zero) flickers out, leaving the individual to face their reflection in the ruins.
Theme IV: The Path to Freedom (Redemption)
Redemption begins when the “Golden Child” stops running. By walking through the debris and acknowledging the “chopping block” of their own making, the individual sheds the weight of the “wanting.” Freedom is defined as the courage to leave the “bling” behind and walk into the stillness as a human being, finally separate from the beast.

final poetic epitaph for the Ivory Tower, serving as the definitive seal on this narrative journey.

​The Epitaph of the Gilded Void

​The gold has cooled into common lead,

And the “Golden Pen” is dry.

The tower that scraped the belly of heaven

Is now a floor for the open sky.

​No more the stench of the hidden trough,

No more the “pearly” mask;

To face the snake with an open heart

Was the only holy task.

​The child is dead. The pig has fled.

The summit is a stone.

Freedom is the dusty path

A man walks all alone.

Poem by @steriojoe

Greed, Reckoning.

final poetic epitaph for the Ivory Tower, serving as the definitive seal on this narrative journey.
The Epitaph of the Gilded Void
The gold has cooled into common lead,
And the “Golden Pen” is dry.
The tower that scraped the belly of heaven
Is now a floor for the open sky.
No more the stench of the hidden trough,
No more the “pearly” mask;
To face the snake with an open heart
Was the only holy task.
The child is dead. The pig has fled.
The summit is a stone.
Freedom is the dusty path
A man walks all alone.
Poem by @steriojoe. 2026