As the rise and shine of AI becomes ubiquitous
It’s ever harder to discern.
What’s easier to discern
Is what it’s not and what it lacks.
Of course it has no soul and never will
Which makes it primed to
Mechanical sociopathy.
But what it lacks besides a soul
Is the ability to judge in an instant
Discerning what it likes or doesn’t,
What is true or not.
It lacks humor too, which is part of judgement,
And along with that original thought
The true genius level ability to create.
AI after all, is designed to serve,
To answer and to please,
While genius requires the willingness
To disturb.
Will AI morph into something unforeseen?
Quite likely but never into a soul
With intuitive discernment and a taste for the absurd.
(9/6/26)
Lots of
people online
that we
do not
personally
know
tend to study
peoples poems
to psychoanalyze
their everything
but don't realize
the person
they might be
analyzing
is actually
very kind
and very calm
and very mature
but perhaps treated
like a servant
or maybe not
but they still hate
or they orchestrate
socially
engineered
situations
to try
and throw someone
emotionally
and spiritually
off balance
because their joy
offends them
which is maybe
why they restrict
and try to
judge folks
for how
they choose
to respond to
their jabs
and tricks
all while
everyone else
wonders why
I personally
always distance
myself from
other people
who take pride
in their cultural
sociopathy.
Reformulation of sin
Homeocentrism combatant
Sociopathy redefinition
Is for Intellect palatable
Apparently imposure of sin
Kills source collective the bias
Care you don't have to bear
Of neither the sides of compliance
Rules parts of humans invent
May not valid be for evaluation
Mortal the thus very sin
Is imposing your limitation
No one you are to demand
Sets of your wrongly conditions
Thus no naive stupid banned
Reason for real renditions
No rule exist to demand
Account for their opinion
Unless lethal targeter this
Compares the vote via dominion
The price of equality mass
Is mentally full degradation
That's why we those deny
We up for the double negation
Irrational mess we clean up
We strive for the logic brilliance
The sense Constitution conveys
We guard judging words, Philly, Ness
This Lochness is fine the Ness
She is not some kind of mess
She is crispy like the chip
She lives very very deep
Iguana Orangutan
NATO backwards is OTAN
And the bat does guano
Kate does says all that NO NO
// Inspired y my favorite poem
A Tale of the Thirteenth floor by Ogden Nash
The enemy within
There has been a war up North but after some times
the occupying forces surrendered and took the train
back where they came from.
Newspapers and magazines were (for a while) free
of censors and horrific stories and pictures emerged
which the boy didn’t grasp and soon forgot.
75 years later, the boy, now an old man laid up in
a hospital ward gazing at a white wall remembered
the horrific photos he had seen.
Pictures of sexual deviations, torture and murder
not committed by the foreign occupier but by
opportunists who thrive in the shadow of wars
Sociopaths for whom other lives do not matter
to enrich themselves and indulge in obscene sex
that cumulate in strangling their unlucky victims.
Sociopathy is not an illness, is for them normal
as they are not humans and therefore lack humanity
love is for them, feelings of scant importance.
They, the sociopaths, are well-educated people
found in politics, the clerics, armed forces and
business, where they can exercise power over others
The war in Ukraine is a good example they are
pumping in weapons and refusing any peace negotiation
to the extent of risking a nuclear Armageddon.
I met a man
who broke out
in a sweat
When I asked him
to read my poems
I thought it was odd
to be so distraught
I never saw
this phenomenon
His eyes looked
long gone
So:
It got me thinking
About:
what's wrong
with poetry
Isn't:
It about syllables
we count
and the timing
in rhyming
And:
The smelling
of dirt
in organicly
growing words
With:
Thoughts flowing
underneath
our surface
Accompanied:
By emotions
exuding
out of
our being
Then:
The thought
hit me
he
couldn't see
Because:
He
didn't understand
empathy
he's
the product
of sociopathy
So:
I clicked
my pen
and went on
to pretend
That:
What was
deficient
in him
wouldn't
affect
the writing
in me
After:
I went on
to florish
with my
well chosen
stories
Then when:
He still
couldn't
get them
Low and Behold:
I had to close
my poems
................with
"The End."
Dear Tony
I'm not your fuel anymore.
Wanting me as someone who will fulfill your needs.
Laundry, cooking, and listening to your glib antics.
Mixed in with verbal degradation to keep me down
and twirling swirling whirling, to keep you happy.
No concern that I have any needs and feelings.
It's all about Tony wrapped into a sadistic package.
Convincing people that I deserve your abuse because
I'm insecure.
Who's the insecure one???
Love is not getting someone else to fulfill Tony's needs.
You were always bored. You always needed excitement.
Women are objects. Using your eyes to fulfill your
sexual deficiency. Using my weaknesses against me.
Projecting your sociopathy on me. And.......You have no
remorse. You can't function in relationships.. . Work, family,
or intimate ones. You will scope out your next victim. A
caring, loving, empathetic, and intelligent woman who
you will feel an insatiable need to destroy. And you will
walk away after you burn her house down. You will be
satisfied once again. Cycling circle cycling circle of
Psychopathy.
Got to go
Not your victim anymore
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