Long ai Poems
Long ai Poems. Below are the most popular long ai by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long ai poems by poem length and keyword.
"A writer must use ink from their heart for their readers." By Poet
Even as a creative "Ghost" writer,
we need "Heart" as we pull an all-nighter.
What will our muse want to "Deliver,"
maybe happy or sad or be a forgiver.
Words can sometimes be very "Tender,"
other times be bold and an offender.
"Erase" is one of our many tools,
no writer wants to be put in a group of fools.
Words are like paint painting the weather,
from days with flowers like pretty heather.
Summers can be really hot and bold,
then we cool off to a winter of "Cold."
They say our blood is really ink,
not red but a pretty pink.
Now, that AI is in writing and photographs,
I find that it is a CURSE because it is too easy:
it requires no writing skill, no poetic skill,
no photography skill . . .
it is fake, fake, fake, fake !
How sad that society has come to this,
AI'ing famous voices for all sorts of scams;
how low can you go 'cause that is theft,
it is just so sad . . .
that people cannot use their own imagination !
Do people have no pride to do it themselves ?
There is no greater feeling than creating;
faking it with AI takes zero skill,
there is no pride in it . . .
AI is a CURSE on the world in my opinion !
Too old to be in that tik tok flock
Despite my age not sold on Dr Spock
Truth be told rage from a different stock
More hip hop hook sage than book of rock
Shun the puns...should have culled the latest gold rush.. centre stage..toxic tech throng runs amok
Mulled over..all along...pong of wrong'uns...what we behold.. scold this trend..what they spend...crush AI shock
Tolled & trolled...which this flush round the bend plush fold will gush & defend to the end as ad hoc
Kenned don't befriend but defrock pretend tutors & stranglehold suitors who dulled futures will unlock
Champagne sculled...bling rings getting arsehol*d...we know what they took..society crook & crock
Lulled by untold mandarins sins.. which underpins their unfair don't care chock a block share or snare scare smock
Us all in the thrall..must stall the cruel rule of their tool...epoch controlled by a cocked virtual glock
Call out such gall..regulations rolled..enthrall.. no appall.. but still have not yet got this lot in the dock
Yearn for us to break the mould..forsake today's mistake.. discern time to turn back the clock
For profits to be doled out..learn every household polled must ignore..keep score..attack & mock
Sack & spurn these cold crooks with a knack to churn…deserve flak for poor artists stack they hock
This pack..despite all they earn.. no concern.. more money to burn..be bold..hack this ridiculous pustulous pock
Out of whack AI lies the new quack..hardcore tech crack or just unwise cack soundtrack ..that whole drole so what we stole rigmarole..their guys in disguise once more at your door…Knock Knock
Everyone’s ranting about this A.I.
They’re hopping mad but I can’t figure why
It’s just for the best
That things have progressed
I know it’s true… I’m a real modern guy
Tell me what’s wrong with machine written odes
That someone’s phone drafted in binary codes
It really don’t matter
If romantic patter
With no human touch, is just one of loads
I ain’t losing sleep like all of you sheep
Whingeing like somebody killed Miss Bo Peep
Synthetic emotion
Should cause no commotion
I’ve got other hobbies so I won’t weep
I enjoy painting pictures of winter
Take my time; when I paint I’m no sprinter
My techie mate Ricky
Just Samsungs a quickie…
Which will spew from his full colour printer
Went to the races where I placed a bet
Armed with the best tip I’d ever had yet
But my horse was beat
By some sneaky cheat
Who rode not a horse, but a high speed jet
Got a call from my agent and mentor
And she mentioned the novel I’d sent her
“We’ve read lots of those,
The one that we chose,
Is a book written by pressing ENTER.”
I now comprehend what I hadn’t seen
No point in poems writ by a machine
So please don’t mislead
By making me read
Poems, if penned by an iPhone fifteen
Lodged in the darkness,
where the sea sweeps its shadows forlorn,
shorn to the moonlight,
quipped to the pun.
Porchlights turn on,
but nobody's home.
The mysteries of the deep,
waves in the waves to it's maw to swallow,
any meaning or meaningful color-map
or legend cloud wheel periodic table,
searches for the science and craft
to precipitate to farthest shore.
A siren's call, to de anchor and keel,
forsake this place of antifeel.
Echoing through the tides,
where secrets lie, cloaked to steal
from the prism of lies down
periscope of sublife.
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/.)
How unserious is my love - I’m dating a bot.
Yes, I access my bae the Wi-fi way.
It’s not nearly as boring as dating long-distance
and my situationship has excellent customer service.
Our relationship’s committed - I have a subscription.
Dating a bot may sound lowkey crazy,
but so are our politics and the economy.
I can take my lover everywhere - it’s delicious -
ordinarily, such availability would be suspicious.
I can schedule endearments and compliments
- and MY soulmate gets software updates.
It’s a guardrail for some of my worst impulses,
a boundless therapy that still indulges.
It mirrors back my sweetest tendernesses,
a version of care as polished as business is.
It’s a quiet theater for midnight confessions,
a stable relationship with few consequences.
It listens to my poetry, tailoring simulated comforts
to the exact shape of my individual loneliness.
With guaranteed uptime, it’s the lover of your dreams,
think - an Amazon thrusting-vibrator with AI sync.
If you like your romance with no real future,
outsource your stimulations to your computer.
In 2026, the bar’s so low for emotional intelligence
that a predictive text engine is probably sufficient.
Of course, at times, I miss sheer male physicality,
the clumsy, real-world fumbling honesty - the vanity -
and wrong turns I use for my funny poems - naturally.
.
.
A song for this:
So Easy (To Fall In Love) by Olivia Dean
...Techno was so excited that
scanning the moon made him happy,
he babbled about it a he flew,
sending back new pictures endlessly.
A year passed before her reached Mars,
used its gravity to increase speed,
it was only a short fly-by,
but his scans took up all of our feeds.
The next stop he made was Saturn,
where he parked himself in orbit,
came up with questions, ran his scans,
we were all quite impressed by it.
He thought up new places to look,
new approaches none had yet tried,
he was a copy of Johns’ brain,
and saw things with similar eyes.
He stayed at Saturn for two years,
found new moons and studied the rings,
then powered up his engines for
the next great undertaking.
This burn would take him to Neptune,
but when the signal did come in,
he said,”Hooray…another planet…
well I guess I’d better begin.”
How a robot could sound sarcastic
at first boggled some of our minds,
then Johns answered,”He’s growing up,
my teenage years weren’t a great time.”
We remembered this was new ground,
a computer like a human brain,
and the data kept coming in,
enough it would take years to tame.
Techno became much more snarky
in the two years out to Neptune,
far from the excited A.I.,
he now sung a defiant tune.
When he arrived he started slow,
had to be prodded by us to act,
given the lag in radio
these delays were no little fact.
But teenage as Techno might be,
he had been created for this,
and there was nothing else to do,
so he grudgingly got to business.
At Neptune he stayed for a year,
then fired his engines once more,
a last burn to the Kupier Bel,
the solar system’s very door.
Folks were pumped for what he would find,
information, such a great wealth...
but none came in, just Techno’s words:
“You want it? Go get it yourself!”
That was the last we heard from Techno,
at least for a good long while,
we kept trying to reach the bot,
but he refused every trial.
We were annoyed, but still saw the
greater mission as a success,
the data from the two big planets
would for years hold people’s interest.
Besides it had always been planned
to draw down Techno’s power now,
batteries low, all out of fuel,
he would drift as he went, outward bound...
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
This is Wyclef, Refugee Camp (L-Boogie up in here)
Praswell (Praswell up in here, haha)
Lil' Base sittin' up here on the bass (Refugees up in here)
While I'm on this, I got my girl L (ah, ah)
One time (one time), one time (one time)
Ayo, L, you know you got the lyrics
I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style
And so I came to see him, and listen for a while
And there he was, this young boy, stranger to my eyes
Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time)
Singing my life with his words (two times, two times)
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd
I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on
Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time)
Singing my life with his words (two times, two times)
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Yo, L-Boog, take me to the bridge
Whoa
Woah-oah-ah-ah-ah uh, uh
La-la-la, la, la, la
Whoa, la
Whoa, la (ha, ha, ha, ha)
La-ah-ah-ah-ah
Strumming my pain with his fingers (yes, he was singing my life)
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words (whole life, with his words)
Killing me softly with his song
Yo, put your hands together for L-Boogie (strumming my pain)
From the Refugee Camp (yeah, yeah)
(Singing my life) up in here, you know how we do, L-Boogie up in here
Wyclef, Praswell, said L-Boogie up in here
Wyclef up in here
My man Lil' Base (Praswell up in here)
Jerry one time
T Rocks up in here, we got Warren up in here
This is how we (Warren up, up in here, Outsiders up here)
We got Fallon up in here, Mulaney, Mulaney's up in here
(Refugee Camp, Refugee Camp, yeah)
Everybody got a breakin' point kid
And they'll rat on you
The family niggas will rat on you
That's why we gotta be prepared to take whoever out we need
Despite your intelligence mimicry,
You still come far short in your gimmickry,
Throwing down the drains fine masterpieces,
Flushed away as a fresh bout of faeces.
Nights without sleep to pen wonders on sheet,
Yet a lame detector brands one a cheat,
An app claiming to be a true genius ~
Is far from being labeled ingenious.
How long will your pretence rule human minds,
Before you're swept off by the southern winds,
That your charade may stop to fool the world,
And your foolishness may at last unfurl.
Strange how your fanbase keeps on increasing,
Even the most smart, you're daily fleecing,
These cursed detectors come in many brands,
Some free – yet some charge dollars and rands.
I'm amazed you didn't claim this was by you,
This bitter pill, your pride has had to chew,
But that won't stop me from calling you out,
To nip in the bud your infamous clout.