Algorithms Poems - Poems about Algorithms

We came not for conquest, but for containment— though conquest is what happens when containment itches beneath the skin like sulfur spores in a sealed lung. They had the secret. Not gold, not weapons, not prophecy— but language that healed. Real language— not poetry, not prayer, but syntax of cells. Their infants spoke in codons. Their trees rustled in protein sequences. Their dead decomposed into algorithms that rewrote the...

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In realms where thought and tempests meet where shifting sands outpace the feet a creature stirs with cunning guise Circumlocution cloaked in darkened skies its words like desert viper’s sting they strike the heart then coil and cling. Through jungles thick with tangled green where vines obscure what might be seen it stalks like the jaguar sleek and sly its golden gaze a riddle’s...

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Fight the algorithms that tell us what to do, to make us predictable, unoriginal and bankable. Have you witnessed how increasingly bland and homogenous our lives are becoming? Choose freedom avoid the diaries of commerce that riff on the ubiquity of apps resist the reductive tropes of our published and circulated, perspective customer identities. Fight the algorithms with their embedded back-lot familiarity, built around class and consumerism. Try to understand the vague, inscrutable...

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algorithms which art in zuckerberg hollowed be the tamed hide the kingdom come oligarchs will us dumb in our place as it is in cyberspace deny us this data our waylaid brain and foreclose all our expectations as we confirm our programmers' and lead us not into liberation but deliver us for extraction for yours is the sole right and the...

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Let’s face it, Ironically subscribed, While being subtracted from the equation. Wicked witches from the west, Travel to the east coast, One named Faith, I’m like I need Hope. Matter fact I need both. When it’s time to put in work, They call me Mr. Get the job done, Go head and do your research. Observe each word, if you got time take it, Eyes...

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WHEN we cannot wake up the sound of truth turns to rags and decay. when we turn our face away from our own kind we find there are no humans. It's so high; so many words and images upon the mind -- 24/7. we're learning to enjoy techno's algorithms. sucking life from society. Hearts. :: 01.08.2021 ::...

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I am the sum of the ages beginning before my mother, before my grandmother, and before my grandmother's mother. I am the product of their matriarchal choices, the quotient of their actions, reflections, and self-images. I am the difference of their generations. And I bequeath the equation of this inheritance to the matrices of my living legacies....

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