Best Cyborgs Poems
The human synchronized synthetic sympathetic empathy I robot schizophrenic mechanism
My lifelines technological I think therefore I am and showing potential
Experimental experience my influence controls the inferior
Mr mirror man with a digi cam i access memory to interact and I stick to facts
Organised scientific programming and activating system data
The responding life form of organic living matter
The clairvoyant cyborgs vision status maxing out
Storing classified info in the source of a stratus cloud cranium
Battery saver mode at random waking
Atom decay breakdown of electromagnetic gamma radiation with emission of nuclear fission
Machine due to be decommissioned
Unique system disfigured
On switch triggered
Heat signatures and infrared sensors my defence science of emissivity temperatures
Conspiracy theories of thermal energy
Microscopic light beams of creativity
Simulated brain stem
My bread crumbs lead to truths
Ask the right questions and revolution 'll then ensue
Soon install new software in the modems duel drive or ya lose it all
Its called the fourth war protocol
Universal soldiers ice bath reparation
Re-education
Robocop termination
Android smart phone hand held segregation
Self concerning social networking code personification
Continue creating protection and
Created protecting creators
Future Rama slave ship of human being traders
The image of man man made in forgotten image
Godless gimmic
Built from these quantum physics
Robotics with the knowledge of lost secrets
I've got them hidden inside with my photonic spirit
Emotive urges with components and codes working at poetic wording
My hearts fall of zealous love
Consciousness is risky with artificial intelligence
Categories:
cyborgs, creation, future, hip hop,
Form:
Rhyme
In pleasantries, orchestrated on our screens,
We live the lives of many men and women,
As if sex could be! We grow, composed of well-cooked pablum
Eaten between long work hours, digested pleasantly.
In a fetal coil, I rest, my optic eye
Doesn’t blink at the silver reticules of my mind:
My body well knit by well-knit engineers,
This me-model makes real tears, running from my eyes.
Of course I’m human – hammered out in school,
Wearing what Designers Club tells me to;
You and I, we can adjust ourselves with tools,
Look down upon the Primitives -- those old fools.
Insulated from all microbial bio-terrors,
Safe from the brute, the thorn, the flawed flower
Blooming wild; we -- kept safe – know no variant weather,
Pity the Primitive, exposed to flood and laser-tower.
Did you see those messages, scrawled upon a wall,
Comparing us with vipers at Adam’s Fall?
There’s not an original thought in what he thinks:
That purist Primitive! His raw flesh stinks!
Computers say it best, and yet, I see
Something –compelling--- in his graffiti:
“O song, sing forth unto the endless skies--
O hear, created stars! You long have looked
Upon all who weep, who ever made outcry,
And wrote it down, in God’s forgotten book.”
written for those in the future--a protest against genetic engineering
Categories:
cyborgs, philosophy, political, science fiction,
Form:
Verse
O' cloned creations,
mirroring deceptive diction
scattered in liquified letters,
across android canvases,
here comes the plague of
fabricated foolery,
spiraling in figments of
black and white illusions,
injecting illusive veins
screaming for vanity,
with verses plagiarized
from villainous valleys.
There’s nothing poetic about
the way AI is pickpocketing
rhythmic runes from the
museum of dead poets ~
immortalized on the walls
of glass galleries.
Their sonnets, now imitated,
to adorn artless skies
with stolen synonyms,
weaving soulless symphonies,
to please the apocalyptic algorithm,
unaware of how filtered
procrastinators preying
on pencil-streaked pages
are lonely earthlings starving
for superficial accolades.
I care not for the futuristic
benefits of artificial lies,
yet I see no escape from
these alienated alliterations,
and personified
pathological hypocrisy,
typed behind silver screens,
multiplying metaphors
into robotic ruins,
flowing with
perfectly metered clichés,
coded in complex cadence.
So let me find the inked corpse
of silicon silhouettes,
lost in the labyrinth
of virtual vultures,
flaunting repetitive rhymes
for clueless readers.
Tonight the strawberry moon
frowns at the
neon frequencies
of digitalized fakery,
and my onyx heart aches
for the unknown realms,
where originality floats
as a forgotten fantasy,
fogged behind a fictional facade,
while in silence, stained stars
claim phrases snatched
from the
thesaurus of thieves.
So flee from this venom-less virus,
you and I know better than to
lean on spineless cyborgs,
created mindlessly
from financial felonies.
A poet with a pen that
lacks authentic pigment
is the victimized alter ego of
designed trickeries~
masked as midnight musings.
Categories:
cyborgs, art,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Retro thrusters, smokey hot,
Thunder in the dim of night.
Sprouting things all green and broke,
Mutant brains are taking flight.
Mole like beasts with huge blind eyes
Push and pour from glowing holes.
Corpses scream with undead cries.
Gelatinous blobs expand with souls.
Bodies flail in polka-dot bikinis
While death rays rip through flesh and bone.
Heady cyborgs sip oily martinis
With metallic olives that chirp and groan.
Curious apparitions haunt vampiric covens
Of werewolves and werecats without revulsions.
Scientists (most mad) create life in lab ovens
In the midst of their monstrous id compulsions.
But the worst and most horrific to face
Are those poetry spouting people beaters,
Cannibalistic abominations from outer space:
The shunned and reviled Purple People Eaters.
Categories:
cyborgs, halloween, horror, humor, imagery,
Form:
Quatrain
O How Great It Is...
To be alive on this day!
Heh, Most unlike you!
You're Deader then dead
Just like the wooly mammoth,
Who's also your dad
I'm alive in space!
Without a care or worry...
I'm forever free.
Remember highschool?
Well, I haven't forgotten.
But you have, my dear
You rejected me!
But not privately, mind you!
No, that'd be too nice...
Had to be cruel...
You told them all when I asked.
And I was left, mocked
But space is so kind.
Unlike your now burning Earth.
Fighting my cyborgs?
Sorry for the mess.
Death Stars aren't too accurate...
They get the job done.
Well, England is gone.
Your most favorite city.
I burned it myself.
I'm truly happy
Yep, I'm just floating in space.
Yes, Yes... I'm damn sure.
I do NOT miss you.
Or the goddamned earth, either.
Just stop guilting me!
No... I'm not happy.
I'm just alone in deep space.
I'm Watching you burn.
Please forgive me, miss.
I was so jealous, old friend
I was just so hurt.
I feel terrible.
Like I'm Ozymandias
Only, I despair.
Categories:
cyborgs, anger, death, death of
Form:
Haiku
Playing God
Augmenting the insides of damaged goods
more than tiny little bots just chopping wood
You can't even see them miniscule in size
The next intelligent Beings to lead our demise
Swarms will enter the body separate for the search
These are the kind of things never taught in church
The Vatican will deny it while the government supplies it
turning everyone into cyborgs bit by robotic bit
They say for humans to evolve that this is a must
What? Are you serious these are the last people I trust
Nano planes, Nano soldiers, Nano surgeons, Nano bots
Nano little everything whether you like it or not
We can't seem to stop it we're all doomed to pods
Because we'll be rendered useless by whoever's playing God!
bmdavey@05/23/16
Categories:
cyborgs, future, humanity, technology,
Form:
Sonnet
Earth is becoming something different, something more.
For millions of years proto-humans strode its bounties until
*****sapiens arrived. Once here, humans took millennia
incrementally building improving its lot in life. Step by step,
developing new ways of improving, one change building upon another.
Cooking food, better nutrition, better weapons for hunting and protection.
Hunter-gatherers working as teams for better outcomes,
feeding and enabling larger populations. Development of farming, enabling villages to take root.
More improvement, villages become towns then cities, city states to countries.
Communication develops, improves, writing, printing books for the masses, new ideas, morse code, telephones. The planet communicates.
Medicines, industrial revolution, humankind spans the globe.
Technology improving, quality of life improving, living longer.
Science, ever probing every aspect
pushing the boundaries of capabilities. Traveling further and faster, trains, automobiles, planes
Spacecraft. Computers, internet, global neural net, global mind, artificial intelligence, human cyborgs. The pace of change ever quickens.
Humankind, on the cusp of change
so explosive the consequences of which are unfathomable.
Categories:
cyborgs, art,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Angifi Dladla
BAYEDE
Bayede , Son of man, Bayede!
You who outsmart the invisible God of our ancestors,
You who perfect the creations of the One-Who-Cannot-Be-
Imagined.
Modernizer of flying dragons that drop eggs down on cities –
They whose eggs hatch bouncing chicks, enveloped in
clouds with no linings.
O Inventor of plague-like rain and diseases,
What a mutagen of nature you are!
Bayede, Son of man, Bayede!
With lashes and nails, Jesu surrendered to your cross,
With a red stroke, sons of heaven rot to die in your jails,
With omission and neglect, sages die muzzled and
forgotten.
Yes! You appraise absolute truth and belittle the God of our
ancestors.
Yes! You sentence God to eternity in your prisons.
What a demystifier of God you are!
Bayede, dredge of ocean and land marrow, Bayede!
You who imprison nature and charge for entrance,
You who farm waste to fertilize the sky and the soil and the
waters,
You who crack cells and sells us mutants for cyborgs.
Colonizer of oceans, You’ll soon reside under the ocean,
Colonizer of space, You’ll soon drill the Moon and Mars,
Build supermaxes and nuthouses up there.
Yes! as God-shrike, You’ll lynch angels and the sons of
heaven up there, yes!
But look, O youngest brother of Mu, just look:
We are on the brink of taking a Cosmic Route.
Look, O man who inherited breast milk from Atlantis,
O, no-no, don’t borrow Madam Lot’s eyes.
Look, and listen to your heart: The voice within
is the call of the Cosmic Brotherhood!
Categories:
cyborgs, planet, recovery from, spiritual,
Form:
Ode
Seven of Nine was her designation.
She no longer had a name.
She was now just one drone, part of a super massive growing nation.
Life as she knew it would never ever again be the same.
Her life as an individual would be no more.
She was now assimilated. She was now a Borg.
The Borg are cyborgs basically,
a biological, cybornetical specie of unique technology.
They are a radiation adapted branch of many specie.
The Borg conquer, assimilate and incorporate as their own
the conquered's technology and biology, then the conquered are made drones.
Each drone's consciousness is linked collectively
through out the entire Borg's super massive, ever growing society.
The Borg are 100,000 fold more adapted for survival and strategy.
A collective consciousness is most effective apparently.
Many have escaped the Borg but none have ever beaten them.
It's always retreat or surrender. You just can't win.
All who encounter the Borg are always "greeted" in the very same style.
"We Are The Borg! You Will Be Assimilated! Resistence Is Futile!"
The Borg may very well at some time be our future superior race
as they continue to conquer more societies
through out our many infinite gallaxies
out there in outer space.
Anaka, (now BORG: Seven of Nine), from planet earth was on a research deep space mission
when she encountered the Borg and fell victim to her ultimate submission.
The Borg now know all of her knowledge and memory.
In short, the Borg are now very much aware of you and me.
I've this question to pose to all of you. Take it for what it is worth.
What are we all going to do
when the Borg arrive here eventually to
assimulate planet earth?
Categories:
cyborgs, science fiction
Form:
Rhyme
SAVE A TREE AND GO PAPERLESS.
THE GLOBALIST SET A TRAP.
WE WERE PLAYED LIKE A BUNCH OF
FOOLS. NOW EXPOSED TO CYBER ATTACKS.
CREDIT CARDS FOR EVERYONE.
YOUR CURRENCY IS BASED ON DEBT.
SPEND MORE MONEY THAN YOU
REALLY MAKE SO YOUR OBLIGATIONS
CAN'T BE MET.
DITCH THE PHONE AND BUY A CELL.
IT'S ALL YOU'LL EVER NEED.
WELCOME TO THE DIGITAL WORLD.
WHERE ALL IS BASED ON GREED.
RADAR RANGE WAS CONVENIENT
IT COOKS FROM THE INSIDE OUT.
CONNECT THAT TO YOUR 5G PHONE
LET'S WATCH HOW THAT WORKS OUT.
ELECTRIC CARS WILL SAVE THE WORLD.
UNTILL YOU UNDERSTAND.
JUST LIKE ALL COMPUTERS.
CONTROL IS IN BIG TECH HANDS.
TECHNOLOGY IS REALLY WONDERFUL.
TALK ABOUT COMPLETE CONTROL.
YOU CAN TRAVEL ANYWHERE YOU LIKE
BUT NO MATTER BIG BROTHER KNOWS.
TRAPPED IN A DIGITAL WORLD.
CONTROLLED BY INVISIBLE MINDS.
YOU ARE SLAVES AND CYBORGS
EXTINCT FROM WHAT WAS ONCE MANKIND.
LET'S CELEBRATE TRANSHUMANISM.
WELCOME TO COMPLETE CONTROL.
WHERE WE TEACH YOU WHAT WE
WANT. THAT'S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW.
WE CENSORED THOSE FREAKY DISSIDENTS.
THEIR THOUGHTS ARE OBSOLETE.
LIVING OUTSIDE THE MATRIX
DEPRIVED OF FOOD TO EAT.
THIS IS THE ULTIMATE POWER.
WE DECIDES WHO LIVES AND DIES.
DON'T YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE.
OR ASK THE QUESTION WHY.
NOW...LISTEN... FOR A.MOMENT...
TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE.
IS YOUR FUTURE LOOKING BRIGHT
AND ARE YOU TRULY FREE ?
Michael E. Harris
04252022
Inspired by my friends comment " That's Deep"
Categories:
cyborgs, future, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
THE PEPPERMAN
AND MODIFIED EVOLUTION
I OPENED A DOOR
TO THE FUTURE OF TIME.
I SAY WHAT I SAW,
IS JUST BLOWING MY MIND.
LET ME DESCRIBE,
JUST WHAT I WAS SEEING.
GREEN WAS THE COLOR
OF MOST HUMAN BEINGS.
BLUE WAS THE COLOR,
OF CYBORGS CALLED BOTS.
WIRED IN A WAY
TO PERFORM AT THE TOP.
NOT LIGHT AND DARK.
ALL THE SAME COLOR.
AS IF THEY WERE BORN
ALL FROM ONE MOTHER.
THE SUNS RADIATION
WAS BEING REFLECTED.
THE VITAMIN D
WAS BEING ACCEPTED.
SUNS ENERGY CAPTURED,
CREATING THE POWER.
TO KEEP THESE CYBORGS
GOING FOR HOURS.
NO LASHES NO BROWS.
NO HAIR ON THE FACE.
GENETICALLY MODIFIED.
THE NEW HUMAN RACE.
NO HAIR ON THEIR HEADS.
MANY WORE HATS.
EVERYONE'S LEAN
NOT SKINNY OR FAT.
PEOPLE WERE DIFFERENT.
IN A WAY ALL THE SAME.
NO ONE STOOD OUT.
JUST SORT OF ALL PLAIN.
I NOTICED THEIR SPEECH.
THEY ALL SOUND THE SAME.
NO HIGHER OR LOWER
IN FREQUENCY RANGE.
I NOTICED A SIGN,
IT READ UPGRADE YOUR OHM'S.
DON'T BLOW A FUSE
BEFORE YOU GET HOME.
CONTROLLED AND RECORDED
EVERYONE'S MOVES.
SEEMED TO MAKE TRAFFIC
MOVE ALONG PRETTY SMOOTH.
NO RESTAURANT'S OR DINERS
JUST OXYGEN BARS.
EVERYONE HERE DRIVES
ELECTRICAL CARS.
NANO TECHNOLOGY
IS SEEN EVERYWHERE.
I THOUGHT TO MYSELF
WHY CAN'T THEY GROW HAIR?
THUS IS THE FUTURE
WHERE GALS LOOK LIKE GUYS.
THE ONLY DIFFERENCE
IS RED OR ORANGE EYES.
TRULY AMAZING.
IN A STRANGE WAY.
COMPARED SOCIETY
BACK IN THE DAY.
09252020
Categories:
cyborgs, allusion, culture, future, identity,
Form:
Narrative
Looking into the future
the future is now
what have we accomplished?
still a primitive society
still fighting
still killing
still starving
science fiction now science fact
we toy with mother nature
ability now to clone
the first step towards cyborgs
programmed to hunt
to kill
destroy
destruction of the human race
war on humanity continues
Categories:
cyborgs, life, war,
Form:
Free verse
Perhaps car does enable American Drivers,
Like pose that a model might dream she could patent,
Or Rose file a lawsuit for fragrance infringement?
Divorce seems impossible, joined at the hip!
Today’s car and its driver approach being cyborgs,
The space they inhabit reserved, unrepentant,
The cyborgs aren’t dumb, and they love this arrangement,
Demand a wide berth, better button your lip!
It seems cars have evolved into moveable castles,
They separate rich from the poor with less power,
And give men the feeling that speed cannot hurt them,
Posh cockpit relaxes, surrounded by sound.
Any man in a car thinks he’s grown extra inches,
A car for a woman is vase for wildflower,
A youth in a car and it’s time for postmortem,
I wish that more folk had two feet on the ground.
Long Tooth
May 11, 2017
Categories:
cyborgs, car, life, power,
Form:
Rhyme
3/20/22
Maybe eventually we'll find other lifeforms
An intense sensation and feeling inside of my core
Paid for it, been quite the fight, like a war
Aware of it but much of it I ignored
Struck by five swords
Stuck in several ice storms
Sometimes I'm torn
Working on figuring out life more
Don't got time for
Praying and asking "why Lord?"
Won't do good like focusing on a high score
Or just relying on items from a supply store
The same could be said for suicide doors
And cyborgs
People will never get off their high horse
Meanwhile I refuse to die poor
Leaving behind nothing
Is mind-numbing
Let me help, look deep inside yourself
And you'll find something
Truth be told
In order to seize hold
Airstrikes and torpedoes
Been this way since a week old
Corruption and ignorance carries on, hardly ever vetoed
In the past a lot of trees smoked
For such a long time, I lost interest
But now I can't afford to stop a minute
I got to finish
It isn't talk or gimmicks
No I don't want a picnic
Or Honda Civic
This is going beyond optimism
I'm still on a mission
Won't ever get there, if I'm not committed
Drunk so much alcohol
I thought I found it all
At times I would sip wine
Never strychnine
I don't think it all is fine
I didn't , but eventually I did mind
Atop a hill climb
What I seeked to still find
Was found inside
Within time
No matter what the sun shall, let's see if I will shine
Across any ridge line
Support or go against it and get in line
Categories:
cyborgs, dark, deep, life, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
The constant itch to be free;
Days of light, nights of spree;
Masks coming down every day;
Success poisoning everyone;
I don't find fantasizing wanderers anymore;
Cyborgs are all I see;
Numbers filling brains;
Junk filling tummies;
Is reproduction that important?
apples and Oranges are not the same;
One is sour, one is sweet.
Categories:
cyborgs, career, conflict, confusion, depression,
Form:
Light Verse