Machina Poems - Poems about Machina

Deus Ex Machina AI can: diagnose disease recommend treatment write poetry write music make economic predictions and much more What happens when it: can think on its own hate laugh feel cry make war sue for peace reproduce Will we still be in charge? Or will it demand our worship? ...

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Like Job, I’ve known what is right and wrong, And I try to take the view that is long. Though I’m not perfect, I do fear God, (Which, in modern times, does seem odd). But what is God, I ask you now? A burning bush? A sacred cow? Or is God simply an advanced being, Who seems all-knowing and all-seeing? If God sees...

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grey will not do metallic's justice as silver shows no tempting no, tones will pale into all skins corridor lengths of emptiness seen within computed eyes and nothing the machines do can hold a grace in our hands no metal can truly see art steel ignorance of telling brush strokes what evolution takes from our touch these once bountiful gardens once Eden once Paradise the flowers, such colour...

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Juice Ex Machina By Mark D. Stucky When wine ran out at the wedding in Cana, why did Mary request and expect Jesus (who seemed slightly exasperated) to act as an on-demand, divine liquor store? Yet, gallons of fermented juice of grapes appeared where only water had been. But sermons are rarely preached about all that wine, and the awkward subject gets changed when...

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"Dead leaves lay still until the wind takes them here and there: even the last flower is withered, but there is beauty in decay - Constance La France I was the wilted flower That you watered...

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this last step... protruding veins under the skin, the other imperfections and these eyes, from distance. scaly is the word for it, brittle skin. it's not good, evokes the relentless of time. it is always destruction that rushes swiftly. skin, in this case ex-home. the color looks gray, but it is condition. something that would be solemn in books, but utterly brutal in reality, because to the touch it conveys...

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this last step, the dead bird, protruding veins under the skin, now drying, the other imperfections and these eyes, from distance. scaly is the word for skin, brittle. not good, it evokes the relentless of time. destruction... is always what rushes down from heaven. its color looks gray, but it's condition. something that would be solemn in books, the speed and fall of this kind of angels, quite...

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President Olusegun Obasanjo- Atiku Abubakar Promises of pardoned traitors Reek like ancient regrets. Exhibitions, Steeped in rapacity. Inured to light, they Dominate blindly Evoking the same air of oppression Noteworthy of the days of yore. Traitors in transit, trampling as they go. Over us, they bellow. Lording it, they rule Under the guise of foreign dogmas, Silence all...

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“deus ex machina” When LOVE came knocking at our door we stood there opposite sides like torn pages from the chapters of a banned book with no spine awaiting collaboration A common thread our folded signatures are stitched together and then joined with other signatures to create the complete book Enter the wings of fortune Fortune that favours the brave The Smyth Sewer smiled a...

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A computer writing poetry absurd ...

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god, made in mans illusion our egocentric minds create deities of grand delusion or of demonizing enemies up before we find our cause totalitarian reign of gods or democratic masochists finding naught but disappointment together bound somnambulists heretical self rightousness ever bring faithful relief machinations or delusions always shifting to belief crusading fanatics, blindly follow him with nothing more to gain i have forsaken you never to find faith again every time...

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