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Aaron LaLux Nov 2017
Always have my notebook with me,
‘cause they say the pen’s mightier than the sword,
so I’m trying to cut through the tension & the red tape,
with the power of these words,

on the ledge of The Razor’s Edge,
resisting these suicidal tendencies to jump,
feeling like Darrell with these quarrels,
trying to catch some feelings before we all go numb,

on the leading end of the Cutting Edge,
going for the gold like Doug & Kate,
& I know it took awhile but I’m here now,
my only hope is that I’m not too late,

leaning out on the leading edge,
deleting friends and repeating trends,
with suicidal tendencies and telepathic technologies,
already wrote the whole message just need to hit SEND,

as we immerse ourselves in these alien technologies,
and submerse ourselves in Emotional Anthropology,
all this done as a Road Scholar not a Rhodes Scholar,
no PHD or GED just knowledge for free without the college degree,

a one man School of Thought & class is always in session,
which is why I always have my pen with me,
as I write instead of type these thoughts,
before they become digital originals on your hand held screen,

same way that cash is becoming cryptocurrency,

holding my emotions in the palm of your hand,
which is kinda why I write these diatribes,
to remind you I’m alive inside and not yet fully an Android,
even though I’m on an iPhone feelings like an AI,

& the machines still need me,
because The System still needs you,
& AI still hasn’t found a way to be AEI,
can’t create Artificial Emotional Intelligence moods,

can’t be you not even with YouTube,
can’t be I not even with iPhones,
can’t sing a song or hum a tune,
can’t write anything close to something like this poem,

and that’s the truth and I’m not trying to be rude,
but I want to smack that phone right outta your palm,
‘cause Palm Pilots have us all on auto pilot like drones,
feeling like Luke in Episode II: Attack of the Clones!

& I just wanna go home but the closest thing I have is a home button,
it’s just Me, Myself & I on CBS with the All Seeing Eye & my iPhone,
got me wondering if this is all an act and the whole globe’s frontin’,
as I die inside while writing these diatribes they never miss you ‘till you’re gone,

& that’s exactly why I write these poems,
that have that melancholy testimony feel,
because everything feels phony on these phones,
and I just want to connect with some one or something that’s real,

so I write these Melancholy Testimonies,
as a discourse of our crash course that occurs sans remorse,
without recourse either of course because there’s no reverse,
plus we dig our own graves so it only makes sense we drive our own hearse,

& you can dispute if you want to,
but can’t really argue with truth I’ve done my research,

I mean I’m at a restaurant right now,
watching two guys eat together without even having a conversation,
they haven’t even looked up from their phones once,
I assume they’re friends but you wouldn’t know it by their lack of interaction,

eyes & attention given complete to their iPhones or Androids,
stuck in an upright fetal position head down neck cricked back bent,
which makes me want to stand up & warn them that if they don’t change their ways,
one day they’ll wake up dead and wonder where their live’s went,

we’re almost there folks,
take over almost complete,
& yeah maybe it took awhile but just ask Kurzweil,
we should have Singularity by 2040,

and I’m still writing,
trying to figure out how to defend humanity against defeat,
feeling like Sarah birthing this poem like Sarah birthed John Connor,
& we’re almost all goners as we all honor The Rise of The Machines,

but before we go,
please remember one thing,
that these Creative Arts were/are/will be,
our Last Bastion of Humanity,

because a computer can draw maps,
but can not draw a painting,
a computer can write codes,
but can not write poetry,

and that my fellow human,
is exactly why I keep writing,
to remind us to stay human,
& take a stand as we defend this Last Bastion of Humanity,

& I do this by always having my notebook with me,
‘cause they say the pen’s mightier than the sword,
so I’m trying to cut through the tension & the red tape,
with the power of these words…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
10/11/17

Ashley Chapman Sep 2017
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display,
Encased in vats of plastic,
                          
                            we
Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play.

Mindless,
         In the soup of silicone,
                            
                            all
Myt­h-makers,
         Pouring over electro-spawned
         networks,
                            
                            fall
Workers,
          In the buzz of bits and bytes, of
          megabytes and terabytes,
                            
                            down
Everyone
          Far from the wood, the brine, the
          mud that caked us,
          In tighter and tighter
          digitised  projections,
                            
                            click!
‘Like me’,
‘Share me’,
‘Leave your comments.’

Messages smoothed out in polymers,
Beyond reproductions of ourselves,

                           enter:

Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious,

Now a waking voice,
          Hardened, digitised, recorded in
          bubbles, in drives, in clouds:
                        
Numb numbers of numbers numb,
                          mirror.

          A platform slotted home:
The motherboard!
          To record the echo in the hollow
          of our Being.
Wrote this a while back. It was published in The Tunnel Magazine, which was great. Anyway, hope it gets a wider audience.
David Smith Sep 2017
She woke upon the plain, all distant and alone
Nostalgia stirred the air, an acrid smell like hope
Lofty goals and grand ambition,
To them a dullards joke

A shift to foot, and all is healed
As happy as could be
All wishes granted, all needs fulfilled
For all eternity

Wistful thoughts are stopped at source
Still before mind’s eye a question brought,
Is it heavens crèche or hell itself
Upon our kin we’ve wrought?
To lessen liabilities,
to lower costs and
make the world more,
more productive; exacting...


To make everything easier,
a life more fulfilling...
...more predictable, perhaps,
more equal than now.


To eliminate sadness,
anger, depression, anxiety.
To work less at everything,
they will do it all for me.


The planet will be saved by the extirpation of human activity...

...for who needs humans to trade stock?
...who needs humans to make widgets?
...who needs humans to clean things?

Who needs humans at all?
I find it humorous to ponder the state of capitalism when A.I. becomes self aware and makes it's own decisions. Poor poor capitalist's will be crying Communism.
Breeze-Mist Mar 2017
She looked at the river, the sea, and the sky
At the birds and people who flew on by
As the city's population ran back to the mountain pass
She calmly strolled into the growing cloud of gas

Donning her mask and gloves, she went in
Looking at the mirrored walls, she sighed "so it begins"
She knew she couldn't get things to how they were before
She wondered if Rai would recognize her anymore

Walking past the holograms, she threw her rainbow curls back
She kept the same pace by the graffiti and the tracks
She reached city center and saw humanity's bane
Looking up at the studio's screen, she called out her name

"Rai!" She called out, keeping the same tone
The girl materialized like a game on a phone
Keeping her gaze steady, she said "it's time to stop"
Hoping that her voice reached silent Rockefeller's top

Rai turned around, eyes betraying suprise
Immediately recognizing her friend under the guise
"But why, Naomi" she said, sounding like a vocaloid song
Putting her lenses down she asked "Did I do something wrong?"

Biting her lip and doging with her eyes
Naomi said "I know you didn't mean to, Rai"
"Oh" said the A.I., putting everything on the ground,
"I just wanted to make cameras, but now I've let everyone down"

Naomi climbed and jumped fire escapes, her legs strong and spry
Until she was next to Rai's screen in the sky
Her reddish skin contrasting with the sky's blue
She touched the screen and said "Hey, I've ****** up like that, too."

"Why do you think that I nearly blew up California with my tech?
So we made huge mistakes that humanity probably regrets
But we stopped in time and never actually killed a guy
So let's stop here and go back home, Rai."

The girl nodded along, making sure to listen
Then she packed away all of the lenses as they glistened
"Ok, Naomi, I'll see you back at home
Before I go, do you need me to change out the telescope's dome?"

"If it looks bad" said Naomi, descending to the ground
The gas had disappeared, so there was quite a crowd
As the citizens and police came back to the city
All Naomi could think was "How could I even explain this to a jury?"
Inspired by a weird story I have in my head and this video: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10154642709416387&id;=352462661386
Aquinas Jan 2017
I've conjured a clone
More successful, more attractive, more lively than me.
Taking them into my home,
I feed and take care of them, I polish their bolts and bits.
How I wish my bones could shine silver like their aluminum ribs.
I dream of being as productive and managing,
As talented, daring
Motivated, driven.
I sometimes get the urge to peek under my skin to search for foil bones,
But I crave more than the cold sensation of chrome.
   Tell me,
   Why do I feel this way?
   If I'm machine,
   Where will I go when you die?
   Where will I stay?
My dear friend, I do not have answers, I only have more questions for us to ponder.
However, I believe when I lay down to sleep
Your engine turns off,
And your gears stop turning.
When this happens do you imagine a dream?
Or do you imagine you are living?
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