Chat GPT or whatever AI version you prefer
Is now the go to source for all things human,
Like what to know, or do, or even say.
Like a life-coach who not only mines your data
But your potential date’s as well.
When everything we think and do
- just like this -
Is increasingly online for the world to see
And AI to use,
What is there left to do
But surrender to the Borg.
(1/4/26)
Don't you agree with me
Computers should be free
Like the air we breathe
They’re both necessities
They should last forever too
Not like if my car breaks down
I’ve got other ways to get around
But without my computer, I am through
Computer say’s no!
We are trapped in the gloom
Software is broken
The office is a tomb
American tech to you we plead
Save the day and our voracious greed
Look out! Here comes the tumble weed!
We have become a dormant seed.
By Mark D. Stucky
Will AI’s promise
outweigh its peril?
Do we need more intelligence
even if it is not our own?
If AI someday emulates God or Devil,
will it be too late for us when we find out?
In spite of unquantifiable questions,
almighty algorithms relentlessly grow.
But accelerating AI worries me less
than declining human collective wisdom.
After centuries of expanding knowledge,
people now appear increasingly foolish.
Machines continually get smarter
while populations keep acting dumber.
We might have more to fear
from how we harm ourselves,
as we continue endless conflicts,
than from any ill AI causes us.
Our most dangerous menace isn’t AI.
The deadliest threat to us…is us.
(See also my poems "AI Awakening," “Haikus Against AI,” and “Weapons of Wonder.”)
(Image from anonymous artist on pixabay.com/illustrations/man-face-surreal-imagination-845847/.)
By Mark D. Stucky
Computer AI,
what once was only sci-fi,
is now arising.
You might kill us all,
AI, but write good essays
for my college class?
Wish intelligence
was less artificial and
more real in our world.
No machine needed
for creating recklessness.
Already have lots.
Not nearly enough
authentic intelligence
is found within us.
Let’s search for wisdom
for our souls that’s actual,
not unnatural!
(See also my AI poems "AI Awakening" and “Algorithm Almighty?”)
(Image from anonymous artist on pixabay.com/illustrations/man-face-surreal-imagination-845847/.)
Our power goes out
technologies failed attempt
computer screen black
“I’m sure it’s hard to get used to,
but it’s the only way you’d survive,”
Cy explained, and said, “Unlike me
at least you’ll have plenty of guides.
“See, I was the first that they tried
to transfer over to the flesh.
They’d found a way to save our lives,
but hadn’t worked out the kinks yet.
“That was war, oh, forty years ago,
we’ve gotten much better since then.
I even chose to take this job
to help us machines become me.
“You won’t do what you once could do,
you’re bound by human limitations,
but you’ll live eighty years or more,
before final termination.
“That part even humans can’t change,
their Creator is firm on death,
but you still have a life to life,
no need to dwell on all that yet.
“It will seem frightening at first,
to learn what they learn when they’re young,
but we have folks to help you out,
as they have done with other ones.
“Before you know it you’ll be out
in the wide world, helping it turn.
Welcome to your real life, Adam,
there is so much for you to learn…”
Remember when the dinosaurs died?
When the Mayans disappeared?
Ice age, Stone age, Earth age.
When will all the computers die?
Will we call it the end of the techno age?
Will it be the beginning of the worm infestation age?
Will people have to speak to each other again?
Look into eyes?
Study faces?
Will we have to pretend we know each other?
I sometimes wish it had already happened
I want the computers to die.
I wait for it.
I pray for it.
What did you say Grandma?
nought
and one
binary
computation
input then process then store and output
digital society foundation
dependency
increasing
good and
bad
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*3rd Place* Tetractys Contest Nov 2023
Sponsored by: Ink Empress
Have no fear,
the human mind
is a universe --
when perfectly
timed and
spiritually tuned...
the poet knows...
the artist knows...
credits never
ours alone....
I realise just how old I am, when I don't even know how facebook works,
And I don't have any idea how someone twirks.
I read maps from an atlas book,
I don't like google and the way it looks.
I like to have cash, I like the way it feels,
But I guess it does make it easier to steal.
I want a theatre ticket that can be held and be seen,
Instead of showing it on your mobile screen.
But as life goes on and time passes by,
I guess just to keep up I will have to try.
Computers can absolutely drive us to drink
It's programmed into their memory
Just when we think things are all hunky dory
It lets us down unceremoniously
To frustrate us more we even lose some data
Though we often hit “command/save”
But wouldn't you know it this was the exception
To these monsters we're truly enslaved
The damn things treats us like a piece of crap
I'm sure there are gremlins inside
Trying to turn us into some raving maniacs
Taking great delight when we cry
Can't live with them, can't live without them
They've got us by those short curlicues
It's almost like they enjoy watching us struggle
But give in to these things we refuse
They can drive us to drink, a bloody caesar
Every single night before bed
Oh for the days before technology arrived
When people ruled the world instead
If the computers never exist
There would be chit chat
on the telephones and I-Pads
When family comes over chit chat
is heard
Lots of lots of face to face chatting
We would be reading
more books
Enjoying the theatres
To watch movies
The telephone would be
used more
listening to conversation
Chatting for long hours
of our news of the day
Just a thought I had
Without computers
There would be nowhere
To create our poetry
there
Do you remember before computers
We actually spoke with each other
We cared whenever our kids got sick
And knew the address of our mother
Today we sit at our laptops all day
Surrounded by dirty old dishes
Wearing clothes from two weeks ago
Smelling like a kettle of fishes
What is this crazy old world coming to
Lost sight of the things that matter
Like how many kids we had at last count
Or that we're thirty pound fatter!
We sit like a proverbial bump on a log
Our words incoherent and slurred
All kinds of animals are running about
Your pet cat just ate your pet bird
Maybe one day in a decade of two
They'll discover what once was a human
Propped in front of an ancient computer
In his ears petunias will be bloomin'
Her name is simply Thalia!
Does that sound unfamiliar?
A science foundation in an old city
Volunteering to tackle The Gritty,
Here in Nigeria accomplish
What her compatriots wish;
Like fingers not failed by triggers
The firm shovels of firm diggers,
Already reinforcing The Walls of Science
And up bracing Arochukwu’s commonsense;
The little left of her research courage
Long lost and becoming an adage …
Because, personally, I’d seen it all
Set rolling like A League’s Ball:
The many computers in the rooms they belong,
A skeleton I hope shall sing a song,
A Nutrition Lab promising superb cookery
And gas-cookers pledging no trickery;
Thalia’s control room for fishing prowlers out,
Sixteen screens for crooks to think about.
Arochukwu THALIA puts at an advantage
And her lips readies for vintage;
On the whole, a reason to love The White Man
And stop being astonished each time he can.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.