If you say to me
“Epistemological”
I will think you’re smart.
————————————
If you say to me
“Cheese is made from poodle eggs”
I will think you’re smart.
————————————
If you say to me
Anything at all, that’s fine.
I’m not built to judge.
If you say to me
“Epistemological”
I will think you’re smart.
————————————
If you say to me
“Cheese is made from poodle eggs”
I will think you’re smart.
————————————
If you say to me
Anything at all, that’s fine.
I’m not built to judge.
Filed under Poems
There once was a Hollywood guy
Who pretended to be an AI.
He wrote a great script
And the writer’s guild flipped.
If all films feel the same now, that’s why.
Filed under Poems
That we who have become so enlightened
To place a mind into machines would first
Use this power (of which we should be frightened)
To animate naked people is cursed.
We’ve woven tales: losing jobs to robots
And our humanity to gigabytes,
Thinking humans will become the have-nots
And electricity will off our lights.
But in creating technical wonder
We have revealed a deeper part of us:
Our minds divert from the wealthy’s plunder
To the size of robo-ladies cy-busts.
Artificial intelligence kills not:
Instead, it lets us chase electric thot.
Filed under Poems
With people being all concerned
About AI taking over these days
I think I have a solution
To combat the malaise:
Instead of names like “Cleverbot”,
Or “Alexa”, we can swerve
And name all robots “Killmonger 3000”
And we’ll trust them as much as they deserve.
Filed under Poems
I’m not sure which is better:
That Hollywood is on strike
Because computers can do their job better
And that they do not like
And now we won’t have any more
Reboots, remakes, or sequels?
Or that we finally see mindless machines
As movie writers’ equals?
Filed under Poems
Whose milkshake is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch her laugh. I cry hello.
She gives her milkshake a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound’s the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The milkshake is sweet, cold and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to her cheap.
She rises from her gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in her head,
She eats her jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.
Filed under Poems

Today I saw this comment
Responding to a poem of mine.
He read the poem as many times
As I’ve had valentines.
He thought it was informative,
So unless I am a loon
I suspect that “Michael Pearson”
Will be in congress soon.
Filed under Poems
You may be scared the internet
Is written by a Russian bot,
But what you should be frightened of
(And probably are not)
Is that, if Russian bots can write
These posts (and if they do)
That a cold, mindless automaton
Is more informed than you.
Filed under Poems
Today I’m bored and kinda tired,
For sure not feeling too inspired,
So a thought emerged within my head:
Let robots do my job instead!
So I was nit at all upset
When a robot said “I can write a rhyming couplet.”
I said “write me a country song,”
And here’s the poem that came along:
——————————————————–
See the hightailing of the cowboy,
I think he’s angry at the ahoy.
He finds it hard to see the horse,
Overshadowed by the rainy field of force.
Who is that yodeling near the saddle?
I think she’d like to eat the cattle.
She is but a rural addition,
Admired as she sits upon a position.
Her leather car is just a beer,
It needs no gas, it runs on steer.
She’s not alone she brings a dog,
a pet dog, and lots of parts catalogue.
The dog likes to chase a truck,
Especially one that’s in the dabbling duck.
The cowboy shudders at the country gun
He want to leave but she wants the bun.
——————————————————–
The poem’s bad, and I think it’s neat
That I am not yet obsolete.
Sure, technology is fun
But robots 0, human 1.
Today I decided to test the ability of our future robot overlords. What follows is a poem written by the predictive keyboard in my phone… basically me if I were a robot and not a lazy blogger.
The woman who needs a job
Is a good orange
And the only thing that is not a good idea
Is to be the one you want.
The woman who needs a job
Is a good orange
And orange is a great app
And the only thing that is not a problem
Was the only thing I could see.
The woman who needs to be the daughter
Is the only one I noticed.
About the way you want it:
You are the only thing I want.
Needless to say, I think world domination by artificial intelligence is a long way off!
Filed under Poems