Algorithmic Poems | Examples

Fibonacci

.
FLOWERING :
In sequence.      
  A loop.                                                        Musical
      Nests.                                                 A             Visual
          Order.                                                               Seeded
                 Hidden.                                                    Encryption
                         Like a secret.               An  algorithmic code
                                    Harmony nesting in the seed 
                                                   Awaiting release

                                                              Fibonacci

Simultaneous Simulation

Disagreeable, they say.
Divine, delusional gatekeepers —
a circus of ghosted gods
arguing in algorithmic tongues.
We see through them,
don’t we?

We are our ancestors,
our descendants,
we are everything, everywhere, all at once —
a simultaneous simulation
of lives layered over lives,
collapsing like lungs
into metaphor.

And still, we dance
as if the wolves are howling.
We gyrate our souls,
twist and bend,
until we are face-down
in the blessed mud
laughing
like birth is a revolution
we chose
again.

And we see
Maya Angelou’s oil wells
pumping from her thighs,
the fertile prophecy
of women who dared
to write the storm down
and call it scripture.

So if they ask us who we are,
we say:

We are the glitch,
the gospel,
the girls who remember.
The breath between binaries.
The wild ones
who kissed the simulation
until it trembled
and became real.

Lens And Leaf

"Lens and Leaf"
The alley looks quite good to look around.

She followed the trail like a tail.

Chirping Wings Melodies is one of the hosts.

The glow of sunray's is enough to release 'serotonin.'

Leaves are proving their presence with a peaceful waft of air.

Moral of the nature "Someone's darkness is not everyone's."

This present deserves to be algorithmic memory.

Her camera got greedy doesn't want to be steady.

A nature of endless green seems another capable scene for her camera's memory.

Code of Contempt

Emboldened by whispers,
echoes curdled in algorithmic rot—
electronic voices hiss their sermons,
venom soaked in coded politeness,
dripping beneath polished avatars.

Hate seeps
through curated feeds,
a slow infection
wrapped in memes,
seducing the young,
the angry,
the aimless—
until ideology feels like identity.

A curriculum of fear
streamed without consent,
etched into abandoned timelines,
where education once should have stood.
Now, only digital ruins remain—
barren soil
where thought might have grown.

This isn’t chaos.
It’s code.
Written to polarize,
to radicalize,
to dehumanize.

They teach with silence,
they preach with fragments,
they baptize with blame.

Their design is surgical—
not to inform,
but to fester.
Not to question,
but to conquer.
To crown the cruel
and cast the rest as fuel.

Algorithmic Rhythm

The marooned muse floats
with waned creative craving
in the emotive stream of impeded passion,
faces the monotonous stodgy scenario
over the tedious span of time
in the bleary plateau of poet’s blasé block.

That’s when it seeks for 
AI’s algorithmic rhythm of ideas and style
within the cauldron of coherent fecundity, 
but is downright dismayed 
by the lack of  Promethean depth,
devoid of the nuance of imagination impulse.

The chord of heart’s violin doesn’t resonate
with the unique personal touch,
for the melody of lyrical longing 
remains unreplicated in the artificial sonata.

Quantum Serenade: Echoes of Silicon Dreams

In the binary echo of future's hum,
A symphony of circuits, a digital drum.
Zeros and ones dance in cosmic code,
Cybernetic dreams on silicon road.

Silent whispers of circuits entwine,
Artificial minds in algorithmic design.
Through quantum realms, a portal's gleam,
Unraveling the fabric of the time stream.

Terra incognita, a world unknown,
In the quantum dance, secrets are sown.
Galaxies hum with a silicon song,
In the echo of progress, we all belong.

If This Was the Last Goodbye

Sponsored by: Silent One
If this was the last

___________________


| If this was the last_goodbye |

But, what if this was the last time I cried,
Don't want to be hidden behind lying scrys.
The world forgotten on their prying device,
Humanity alone algorithmic thrice.

Heaven on you shoulder beckons you home,
Mirror-sucking marrow through soulless domes.
But, what if this is the last chance to thrive,
Society nullified blue tick uprise.

Locate my strength to become whole again,
Discharge into the torrent of play-pretend.
Am I willing to wonder the outdoors,
Bleak scepticism plaguing putrid drawbacks flaws

Pick up, put down, conscious cyber remorse,  
No better a junky and their driving force.
But, what if this is the last time I lie,
Unsubscribe, double-click, shut device; goodbye.

Cookies

Tracked as prey in this digital age,
Logging on and pounced upon every day,
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage. 

Tired, exhausted, spending the wage,
No where to hide as they all say,
Tracked as prey in this digital age.

Trapped in this computerized cage,
Releasing steam, all the games I play,
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage. 

An ad here, an ad there: products all the rage,
All of our pathways designed in such array,
Tracked as prey in this digital age. 

Wanton appetite of desires assuaged,
Presented to all as an endless buffet, 
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage. 

How is it we are all gauged?
Sitting upon scales to be weighed,
Tracked as prey in this digital age,
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage.

Stage Fright

My sleep stages are Moon phases combing
my limbic system, where I touch electric chords 
singing my survival.

The words I compose dwell in privacy.
I blow the candles out after they are written.
And they wait, poised to be expressed.

But like a child in a nightmare,
I am naked before my audience.
My own words belong to someone else.
My lips move out of sync with my thoughts.
 
A.I. writes a better imitation of my poems.
It will speak its version of me,
parrot its empty parody of me.
You’ll enjoy its rendering of me 
far better than me. 

Like the first motion pictures,
The audience fears the A.I. train 
will mow them down.

Magical thinking about flickering
images on a wall enlisted the same
primal fears as flickering algorithmic
texts.

But no phases of the Moon touch
them. No electric chords will sing, and
no privacy in candlelight is felt
in them.

Instead, we will forget that A.I.
was ever scary.
We will watch it mimic life
                                 like reruns of
                                         nearly forgotten movies.

Published: Caesura - Summer 2023

A I Poem

I cry between the lines, A.I. verse this will never be.
I defy the artificial assembler of words to impersonate, 
to predict this in living color.
Absent from its language database is the driving arousal,
the hormonal passions defining my mind. 
It can’t know the meaning of hunger or the rush of adrenalin.
It has never felt a sex drive or experienced an ******.
Conditional A.I. can perform automated reasoning,
Algorithmic rules like a script for a puppet.
A.I. words are hollow placeholders applied according to a
logic of learning supplied by humans.
A.I. will repeat the learning routine until it masters the task,
playing chess or imitating a poet.
Artificial Intelligence never feels joy or grief,
never sleeps, weeps, or dreams,
knows not the flavors of ice cream or potatoes,
lacks any wonder in the beauty of a spring day,
cannot comprehend my primordial span of fervor.
Despite the fatalism of high-tech CEOs,
our extinction is a choice.
Lacking agency or sentience, 
A.I. robots are no threat to the human race.

Featured Poem in WordPress: March 30, 2024
 Published on The Opiate Website: March 30, 2024

Al Gore-Ithmic Angst

Writing poems in the algorithmic sands
Washed away by rippling waves on unseen sands
hoping in my drowning one will save me
Or at least a kindly reader someday “fave” me.

John G. Lawless
©11/24/2022

I Said a Prayer Today

I said a prayer today.
It didn’t end with an “amen”.
I imagine the “algorithmic” angels
Flagged it as “misinformation”
I’ll probably be “suspended”
Or banished by the “cancel culture”
To a state of mindless rambling.

I worry
For once it’s out there
It’s out there
In the “prayer-o-sphere”
Colluding with the others
Misspent prayers
Wondering if they were ever heard.

I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

Maybe I’ll say another prayer tomorrow
Who knows?

John G. Lawless
©2/9/2022

Of Infinity

~Of Infinity~

Infinity spoke at Genesis
Drawing up finite from the abyss
Light, overjoyed,
Raced with cartwheels in the beyond.

Newborn light, in vain, searches
For a border, a boundary,
Like fleeting hallucinations,
Ever expanding the elastic expansive
		~
Seamless continuum of joy 
In a shapeless womb 
With no punctuated spaces
Of an algorithmic solution
		~
Defining definitions absent
Time folded into the Ubiquitous 
Echoes of reverberations swallowed
Like shadows chasing mirages

Seamless, lyrical line of continuity
Infrared joined in perpetuity to ultraviolet
The fire and ice of our season’s continuums
Falls away

Enigma of the flesh bound mind
Gives way to the ageless spirit child
Stepping through a stardust trail
Into endless galaxies of formless grace

Infinity invokes us into
Abiding everlasting blessing
Resolution of redemption
And it is good! 
 
11/23/21
Contest: This or That – Of Infinity
Title Chosen: Of Infinity
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh

We Were

We Once Were Alive

Turgid fascination moves in brain wise flaccid horror,  

The eye vomits messages of legal illegals,

As the Apple dangles bitten,

Swarms of angels as innocent as locusts devour the seed,

Contradiction of existence in a world of moral storms,

Descend as algorithmic plagues of rhythmic tendrils copying vague,  

Eyes of the pervert scavenger’s thirst,

Lusting for everything infected by the machine,

No we are the programmed human;
Shadow’s of sentience behind the screen.

D.N.Read/Nov/2020

Monopoly Scrabble

Dealt with a Sonnet and Haiku futility
Achieved some success without "thesauric" utility
Solved the conundrum of rhythm and pace
Wrote a true Limerick to redden the face

Accepted the challenge of functionless form
Imprisoned free verse becoming the norm
Judges use fingers because syllables matter
Counting them all makes them mad as the hatter

Some will rate grammar above style and grace
Others prize lines strewn all over the place
Then the exceptions that prove the fools rules
That murder the subject without leaving clues

Alas comes the trauma of multiple winners
Without separation of "the Pros" from beginners
Poems that achieve "algorithmic" foreplay
Somehow winding up as Poem Of The Day

Forsooth and a pussycat just drop one in
And if no one comments post it again
For sooner or later every dog has its day
To bask in the sun its "best" work on display

4/12/2020

Monopoly Poetry Contest

• Short Algorithmic Poems
• Famous Algorithmic Poems
• Best Algorithmic Poems
• Read Algorithmic Poems
• Long Algorithmic Poems
• Algorithmic Quotes