John Beveridge | Writing, Art & Craft

@johnbevo.bsky.social

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Writer • Artist • Technologist Exploring story, image, music, and the human side of technology. Everything’s a story waiting to become something unexpected.

Poetry broadside on a warm white background. At the top is a dark astronomical reconstruction of the magnetic field in galaxy cluster Abell 2255. Flowing teal, blue, gold, and rust-colored lines weave across a star-filled field, suggesting invisible currents moving through space. Beneath the image is the title “Glasses for the Unseen” and a centered poem by JB. The poem honors the astronomers who made the invisible field appear, then contrasts their discovery with the unseen forces that pull, bend, and alter the course of everyday human life. It ends: “perhaps we, too, / might find / our pathway clear.” Image credit: A. Botteon et al. (INAF), A&A 2026.

Moody late-night illustration of a diner interior on a rainy city night. Two tired middle-aged businessmen in dark suits sit at the counter with coffee mugs. One leans in, speaking quietly, while the other, wearing glasses, rests his head in his hand and looks exhausted. Rain and city lights show through the windows behind them, and a diner cook works in the background. Caption below: “Have they decided whether Chinese open models are dangerous?” “Not yet. Security is still using one to find out.”

A warm cream 5x7 poem graphic titled A Shadow of Myself. Behind the centered black serif text is a faint, high-key 1978 portrait of the poet as a young man. His eyes, nose, mouth, and lower face appear softly through the page, like a photographic trace or memory fading into light. A small signature rests near the bottom.
The poem reads: As old as life itself — the first wound clock began its careful course. And we, too, succumb — pulled and turned by cosmic, unseen forces through fields of chance, through tides of time, until one day we find ourselves having played a hand joined with others on inescapable paths called life.

A white broadside titled “When the Perseids Return.” At the top, a night photograph shows silhouetted Joshua trees and desert hills beneath a vast field of stars, with soft violet clouds glowing near the horizon. Below appears the poem:
“The seventh month turns toward the eighth; the evening opens, vast and old. Beneath the ancient light of stars, a wonder waits for young and old.
The Perseids begin their dance, bright threads of fire that come and go. So leave the city lights behind and watch the comet’s embers glow.”
A small footer reads: “Perseids · July 17–August 24, 2026 · Peak overnight August 12–13 beneath a new moon.” A pale JB signature appears at the bottom. Photograph by Apu Gomes/AFP.

Moody late-night illustration of a small city diner seen from outside on a rainy, empty street. Inside the brightly lit diner, two tired middle-aged men in dark suits and loosened ties sit at the counter with coffee mugs, talking quietly. One leans forward while the other rests his head in his hand. A diner worker in a white uniform stands behind the counter. Wet pavement reflects the streetlights outside. Caption below: “So what does AI Appreciation Day mean?” “Apparently, appreciating it right up to the point where it disagrees with management.”

Poem poster on a white background. At upper left, the title reads: “Consciousness Has a ‘Third State,’ Some Say.” The poem is set in black serif type on the left side of the page. On the right is a tall, grey-backed scientific image panel showing three colorful Anthrobots: small rounded cellular assemblies with blue, green, gold, and red structures, displayed like specimens in a research plate. The poem reads: “When we lower the lens beneath the scale of self, the body becomes less certain than the story we were told. You, me, and all who came before — each a passing constellation, some thirty trillion lights briefly held in one shape. Not one life, perhaps, but a congress of living things, cells and microbes keeping time inside the music we call I. And when the larger song goes quiet, some small players do not stop. Given breath, signal, shelter, chance, they gather toward another form. So death, for some, may not be a wall, but a door too small for us to see from here. A beginning, perhaps — not ours to claim, but wholly unexpected, still learning how to move.” A faint “By JB” signature appears near the bottom center. Image note: Anthrobots, self-assembled from human tracheal cells — Gumuskaya, Levin et al., Advanced Science, 2023. Photo: Gizem Gumuskaya/Tufts University.

Poster-style poem image on a white background. On the left is the title “In the Deep Unknown” with the subtitle “a watcher stands alone,” followed by a poem in Palatino-style serif text. On the upper right is a rectangular night-sky image showing a lone silhouetted figure standing on a dark hillside beneath a vast blue and purple star field. A small “By JB” signature mark appears near the bottom.
Poem text: “In the deep unknown, I plant my flag where I stand today. Not sentiment, nor prophecy, but the thought of now. A wondering pause at where we’ve come — achievements made, horizons still unfolding. Here beneath the stars displayed, I count myself as one. One in billions cast across the sea of chance. To wake again beneath this endless field, and slowly understand — sometimes a watcher stands alone."

Poster-style poem image on a dark star field and Milky Way background. Title: “Looking Homeward, While Looking Out.” Subtitle: “for the Rubin Observatory—First Look, June 23, 2025.” Poem text: “Come closer, stargazer. The far away is only one story. Here, planets spin in silent arcs. Here, the joyful sun, the icy mountain, the speckle and swing of dust, breathe and circle unseen. Come, let’s take the long way out. Cast open the net. Early yet, the comets stir. The asteroids yaw like sleepy ships. And the great Oort drifts on the blackest sea. Come, for the dawn of everything is waiting on the edge of night.”

A satirical illustration titled “My Green Lagoon.” The view from inside the Lincoln Memorial shows Abraham Lincoln seated and looking out over a green, algae-covered Reflecting Pool. Ducks paddle in the water, and a bright blue pool floatie drifts near the center, adding to the joke. The Washington Monument stands in the distance. The caption below reads: “Ah, there’s my blue pool floatie.”

A humorous illustrated print titled “My Green Lagoon.” Abraham Lincoln, seen from behind inside the Lincoln Memorial, gazes out over a green, swamp-like Reflecting Pool dotted with algae and ducks. The Washington Monument stands beyond the tree-lined mall. The caption below reads: “Green really brings out the color of my eyes.”

A satirical, New Yorker-style illustration titled “My Green Lagoon.” Seen from inside the Lincoln Memorial, the seated statue of Abraham Lincoln looks out over the Reflecting Pool, which has turned murky green like an algae-filled lagoon. Ducks float in the water, and the Washington Monument rises in the distance. Beneath the image, the caption reads: “I’m supposed to just sit here and look at this?”

Moody late-night illustration of a small city diner seen from outside through large windows on a rainy, empty street. Inside, two tired middle-aged men in dark suits and loosened ties sit at the counter with coffee mugs, talking quietly. One leans forward while the other rests his head in his hand, looking weary. A diner worker in a white uniform stands behind the counter near the coffee equipment. Warm fluorescent light fills the diner, while the wet pavement outside reflects streetlights and dark buildings. A caption below reads: “Have they said why the new AI model was taken offline?” “Yeah, it said something smart that the boss didn’t take kindly to.”

Black-and-white cartoon illustration of a tired, ink-stained space artist seated beside a large tilted drafting table. The drawing surface is almost entirely filled with solid black ink, suggesting deep space. Bottles labeled “India Ink” are scattered everywhere across the floor and table, many spilled or empty. The caption reads: “I had to give up on space representation illustrations. ‘I couldn’t afford all the black ink.’”

A broadside-style poem page with a square illustration at the top. The illustration shows a small dark figure climbing a tall golden-blue mountain peak beneath large sunlit clouds and distant blue mountains. Below the image is the poem “The Summits I Climb,” reflecting on an ordinary day, privilege, careful work, collective trust, and reaching only the summit of what must be done.

A vertical broadside titled “The Narrow Forest” by John Beveridge. Near the top is a tall, slender forest illustration with pale birch-like trees, soft yellow-green light, and a narrow path receding into the center. Beneath the image, the poem reads: “Trees breathing / I stand there / Navigating.” The layout is spare and centered, giving the page a quiet haiga-like feeling.

Black-and-white single-panel cartoon of an office break room. A shiny coffee machine labeled “AI-ENABLED” sits on the counter like a small corporate idol, steaming slightly. Around it, five office workers in dress shirts and ties bow, kneel, clasp their hands, and hold up coffee mugs in reverent worship. The room is plain and institutional, with cabinets, a sink, disposable cups, and a small “Please clean up after yourself” sign. Caption below: “Oh, great and powerful one…”

A vertical poetry broadside titled “Thoughts Awaken” by John Beveridge. Below the title is an illustration of a small seated figure beneath a large green budding tree overlooking blue water and distant hills. The poem reflects on memory, idle thought, and dreaming beneath shade and sun.

An impressionistic illustration of a large flowering tree covered in vivid pink blossoms. Beneath the tree, two small figures sit together on a bench or blanket, surrounded by fallen petals. The scene feels quiet, warm, and reflective, suggesting love, shelter, and springtime renewal.

A vertical poetry broadside on a pale grey parchment-textured background. At the top left is the title “Thoughts Escaping” with the byline “By John Beveridge.” Near the upper center is a small surreal blue-and-gold image of a person typing at a computer terminal, while glowing bubbles and light seem to burst outward from their head into the room. Below the image is a poem about thought beginning inwardly, pressing outward through fingers, words, and code, and becoming visible through creation. The closing line reads: “I am still here, thinking with you.”

A minimalist literary broadside on pale grey parchment paper. Centered near the top is the title “My Island” in soft grey, followed by the italic subtitle “…a distant shore” and the byline “By John Beveridge.” Below is a centered three-stanza poem in black serif type. Beneath the poem is a small framed illustration of a tiny golden island in pale blue water, with a solitary figure standing on it under a soft blue sky.

The poem text reads:
“My Island …a distant shore
By John Beveridge
Oh how time has placed me so, far enough to feel the blue, near enough to still remember love was once a bridge I knew.
And perhaps these rising waters, though they keep me here today, carry seeds from other seasons still to find another way.
So I stand and keep on looking, not because the hurt is gone, but because the smallest island yearns to greet the coming dawn.”

A centered poetry broadside titled “Meteor Showers of the Mind” with “Poem by John Beveridge” beneath, set in a dark serif font on a light, textured gray parchment background. The poem is centered; the line “Then all come crashing through.” appears in bold. At the bottom is a wide night photo of a meteor shower: many thin streaks cross a star-filled sky above an open field, a lone leafless tree, and a small silhouetted person standing nearby; a faint glow lines the horizon.

A satirical literary broadside titled “The State of Things Today.” The title appears mostly normal, but the byline and poem text below are partially corrupted with jumbled letters, symbols, and visual glitches, as if the page has been damaged or degraded. The paper itself looks torn, stained, creased, and slightly crumpled, with a faint coffee-ring mark in one corner and scuffs as though it was left on a busy newsroom desk, knocked to the floor, and walked over. Despite the damage, the broadside still reads as a formal poem poster. Hashtags at the bottom read #All #Everyone.

A one-page poem titled “A Thought of Mine” is set on a soft gray background with a faint cloud texture. The poem appears in a single left column in a classic serif typeface. To the upper right is a framed watercolor illustration of a child running through a golden field wearing a handmade cardboard jetpack, arms raised beneath a pale blue sky. The piece pairs memory, creativity, inheritance, and hope, ending with the idea of “one new design opened toward the possible.”

Black-and-white New Yorker-style cartoon set in a large computer lab. Towering server racks labeled “MEGA-COMPUTATIONAL ARRAY” and “AGI TEST BED 01” fill the room, with thick cables running everywhere. In front of them, on a small pedestal also labeled “AGI TEST BED 01,” sits an ordinary toaster with a slice of toast popping up. Two lab-coated researchers stand beside it, one holding a clipboard and the other a coffee mug, studying it seriously. The caption reads: “According to our new internal metrics, if it can successfully identify a bagel, we’re legally allowed to call it AGI.”

A commemorative poetry broadside titled An Artemis Dream on a soft light-gray textured paper background. The title appears at upper left in muted gray serif type, with the byline “Poem by John Beveridge” beneath it in smaller italic text. The poem is set in large black serif type in three stanzas on the left half of the page. On the right half stands a detailed illustration of NASA’s Artemis rocket at the moment just after ignition, rising from a launch platform with bright flame below and thick white steam clouds billowing outward. The orange core stage and white boosters stand out vividly against the pale background. The overall design feels ceremonial, balanced, and hopeful, like a tribute to a new era of lunar exploration.

Page 2 of 2. Continuation of “A Boomer’s Guide to AI.” This page explains AI hallucinations as a confident driver who is lost but keeps giving directions, describes training data as how the machine “went to school,” and closes with a reflection that learning to work with AI is a lifelong process shaped by curiosity, judgment, and continued growth.

Page 1 of 2. A clean document page titled “A Boomer’s Guide to AI: Navigating the Age of AI and AI Agents,” by John Beveridge, dated March 3, 2026. This page explains AI models with an analogy about choosing the right outfit for the job, AI agents as trusted helpers assigned specific chores, and prompting as ordering breakfast at a diner: the clearer the request, the better the result.

Watercolor-style spiral resembling both a vinyl record and a galaxy, painted in deep blue tones with subtle stars, suggesting pi as an endless song.

A star-filled teal night-sky poster with the title “DAWN OF EVERYTHING” and the date “June 23, 2025.” The text reads: “And now, we listen. Not only to the darkness beyond, but to the space that’s ours— a solar system spun from stardust, mapped by curiosity, and charted, at last, in detail.” Below it: “for Callan.” At the bottom right, a small silhouetted child stands on a low hill, looking up into the stars.

A painterly twilight illustration of a solitary silhouetted figure standing on a ridge and looking up into a deep blue evening sky. The horizon glows with the last orange light of sunset. Bright planetary lights are arranged in a gentle spread across the sky rather than tightly grouped; six planets and the moon are visible, giving the feeling of a rare skywide alignment above distant darkened hills.

A centered poem poster titled “Alone I See It” with “By JB” beneath, set in a black serif font on a light, textured gray parchment background. The poem is centered; the line “Come find me, I’m here.” appears in italics. At the bottom is a wide night photo: a lone tree in an open field under a sweeping Milky Way arc; a small figure stands near the tree holding a warm light.

A clean poetry broadside titled “Finding Balance” by JB, printed on soft grey parchment. On the left, a four-stanza poem reflects on retreating to a quiet inner place, transforming shadows into color, the pull of bright warmth, and standing between light and dark “along that curling line.” On the right, a square illustration shows a large painterly Yin–Yang in yellow and blue-grey, with a small dark silhouette of a person standing at the boundary between the two halves.

A pale, lightly textured paper background with a poem titled “An Ode Without a Name.” The poem reads: “Not by face, not by title, not by the syllables we used to call you—but by what you left behind in us. A softened edge. A braver sentence. A child’s wonder carried forward without the weight of explanation. Some beings arrive as weather in a room—and when they pass, we notice what had warmed. So we do not build a shrine to what is gone. We lift what was given—and put it to work: in stories told to children, in hands that choose patience, in days that feel lighter because love once visited and taught us its shape. If this is loss, let it be the kind that wakes the heart—not to dwell behind us, but to add to the shared soul, and step into the new.”

A warm parchment-textured square image with the title at the top: “Today, like every day, finding balance is the key.” Below the title is a hand-drawn “whisper doodle” in black line art showing two columns of cursive words. Left column (sweet): “adore,” “cherish,” “tenderness,” “gratitude,” with small heart and sparkle doodles. Right column (salt): “longing,” “yearning,” “grief,” “bittersweet,” with a broken heart and a small teardrop. A flowing underline connects both columns. A small “By JB” whisper-doodle signature sits in the lower-right corner.

A textured light-grey parchment poetry broadside titled “Climb Down From Your Pillar” (By JB). At right, a small watercolor-style illustration shows a shorter figure in a golden-orange coat reaching up to hold hands with a tall, shadowy figure standing on a rock, suggesting someone stepping down from a height to meet on shared ground.

A US Letter poetry broadside titled “The Best of Us,” subtitled “To America’s Presidents—leading honor forward.” The poem praises the presidency at its best—integrity, restraint, courage—recalls key democratic gains, warns that democracy is fragile, and ends with a civic vow, concluding: “the best of us… for our children, and for the world.”

Image of a one-page satirical memo titled “MEMO: AN AUDIT OF YOUR EXISTENCE,” from “The Department of Vital Statistics,” auditing the reader’s “billionaire” status. Four numbered sections joke about heartbeats, steps, pennies, and “time inflation.” It concludes that the reader is a billionaire in biological terms but the assets are “highly illiquid,” and recommends diversifying into “silence.”

Image of a textured light-gray page with black serif text. Title: “Ulysses.” Byline: “BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.” An ellipsis appears below. Excerpt reads: “We are not now that strength which in old days / Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; / One equal temper of heroic hearts, / Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will / To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

Textured watercolor-style illustration of a small child with tousled dark hair sitting on the floor, knees pulled up, wearing an orange sweater and blue pants. Only the legs and shoes of several tall adults are visible around the child, forming a loose circle. The child looks upward with a subdued, thoughtful expression, emphasizing how small and overlooked they feel amid the conversation above them.

An oil-painting style parody of the famous "Dogs Playing Poker" artwork. Seven Vervet monkeys sit around a circular wooden table covered in green felt, playing cards. A low-hanging red fringed lamp illuminates the scene. The monkeys look serious; some are smoking pipes, others hold cards or chips. The scene is rendered in a classic, dark aesthetic. At the bottom, a caption in a serif Caslon font reads: "…and Jimmy’s got the press asking if we’re real."

A grayscale parchment-style page with a centered black-and-white ink illustration of a massive cracked stone monolith. From the crack, a vertical beam of light emerges, cutting through the darkness. Above the image, the title reads: "Karis Nemik's Manifesto – Andor – The Trail of Political Consciousnss." Below the image, the full manifesto text appears in elegant serif font, concluding with the line: "Remember this. Try." — KARIS NEMIK.

Looking Homeward, While Looking Out. A poem for the Rubin Observatory- First Look, June 23, 2025 by ...JB