OWEN: write an e.e. cummings poem about an foolish old man who falls in love with a singing mermaid

In a world where waves whispered secrets untold,
Lived a foolish old man, his story unfolds,
His heart, like a ship, lost at sea, set to roam,
As he fell for a mermaid, who sang of her home.

With wrinkles like waves, his face weathered and worn,
He’d listen each night to her mellifluous song,
Her voice, like the tides, pulled his heart ever near,
A mermaid, enchanting, whom he held dear.

He’d sit by the shore, his eyes filled with dreams,
As moonlight danced on the silvery streams,
He’d sing to the stars, to the ocean’s deep hum,
“I’m in love with a mermaid, my heart’s kingdom come.”

Yet, wise men would scoff, and sailors would jest,
At the foolish old man, so hopelessly blessed,
For love knows no logic, no matter how odd,
As he cherished the mermaid, his love, his sea-god.

And though their love story seemed destined to fail,
He’d cherish each moment, his heart set to sail,
For in his foolish heart, he’d forever reside,
With the singing mermaid, his love and his guide.

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OWEN: Write a scene with Christopher Walken as Chris and Robert De Niro as Bob, ex-convicts who meet by chance on a busy New York sidewalk. Each tries to determine if the other has the stolen money from the heist they pulled off ten years earlier and where is it hidden.

CHAT GTP: Certainly! Here’s a brief scene involving the characters as described:


The bustling city forms the backdrop as CHRIS (Christopher Walken) and BOB (Robert De Niro) bump into each other. Recognition flashes in their eyes, but they play it cool.

CHRIS: (with his characteristic cadence) Bob, is that you? It’s been a lifetime.

BOB: (narrowing his eyes) Chris. Ten years, ain’t it? Time flies.

CHRIS: (smirking) Time? Oh, it’s a peculiar thing. So, what brings you here?

BOB: Just living life, you know, enjoying the freedom. How ’bout you? Still into the old habits?

CHRIS: Old habits? Oh no, I’m a changed man. Clean as a whistle. (pauses) Speaking of change, ever wonder what happened to our… mutual friend?

BOB: (grinning) You mean the one that used to be green and crispy? Can’t say I have. Lost interest, you know.

CHRIS: Lost interest? In all those zeroes? I find that hard to believe.

BOB: (leaning closer, voice lowering) Well, Chris, maybe it’s just waiting for someone to find it. Maybe someone who knows where it is.

CHRIS: (matching his tone) Or maybe it’s with someone who’s been watching it all these years, letting it grow old with him.

They eye each other, a silent battle of wills, each trying to gauge the other’s intentions.

BOB: (breaking the silence, smiling) It’s good to see you, Chris. Let’s not be strangers.

CHRIS: Absolutely, Bob. Take care of yourself.

They part ways, the tension lingering in the air. Both men glance back once, wondering if they’ve just walked away from a fortune.


The mystery of the stolen money remains, neither willing to reveal what they know, each suspecting the other of holding the key to their past.

©owen plotkin 2023