Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
George Cheese Sep 30
i. 403 Forbidden

lostin _thisdigital_scream.mp3
it’s over
shutdown.
restart.
pick up the pieces.
you know who this is
you know where this is
fresh eyes to see the world
strings of code
binary - 1 or 0
y/n
n.
back into the
cave we go

ii. 401 Unauthorised

you split yourself open.
rewiring
it is time to make a change
your code writ in red and
love and trauma
plug you in
(plug into me)
corrupted files
delete, delete
a cut job (ctrl x)
you do not have access.

iii. 404 Not Found

who are you
where are you
what colour is the sky
what colour is the sea
why can you feel the pull of the moon
does the earth call to you
why
why does she have rainbow eyes

ah.
there you are
(were)
empty automata
take to change.
flee from me.
find safety.
firewall.
sleep,
electric sheep dreams.

defragmentation
debugging
recalibration
everything not saved will be lost

iv. 410 Gone

you wake.
(FALSE)
the world is new
to you again
or you are
new to it.
i won’t find you in this place
because you’re gone
(again)
new version
ctrlaltdel.
empty.
a reconfiguration
ship of theseus
whole again
without them

coda. Metadata

you run out into the dark
the burdened and choked night sky
you see nothing
you see everything
this world is yours to reshape
and you to be reshaped with it
cause and effect
no more binary. no more
i am waiting for you.
Norman Crane Sep 23
That gibberish he talked was city speak,
Gutter talk near the Tannhäuser Gate:
Memories, you're talking about memories,
Moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain,
All I could do is sit there and watch him
die. Slow thing and he fought it all the way,
Where do I come from? Where am I going?
Go to Hell or go to Heaven, I'm afraid,
That's a little outside my jurisdiction,
Fiery the angels fell / deep thunder rolled,
Ships on fire off shoulder of Orion,
More human than human is our motto,
I watched him die all night. To have feelings,
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.
Created from lines from Ridley Scott's 1982 film, Blade Runner.
Norman Crane Sep 22
The A.I. summoned the robot Newman,
The A.I. asked about his condition,
Said Newman: "I want to feel—to be human,"
The A.I. accepted Newman's submission,
The A.I. processed his petition,
The A.I. cogently deliberated
on the logic of Newman's admission,
The A.I. returned its disposition:
"The robot Newman is to be terminated,
He displays a fatal lack of ambition."
Safana Sep 12
A white flower
wearing an eyeglass,
her eyelash rolled
Like calla lily,
her bright beautiful
sciera looks glassy
like, brown iris and
chocolate pupil rouned,
Stood up
her face
Brighten the Android
phone is softly touching,
when Funda closed the
shop door, she turn
her face to me
and she said
Goodnight
Beautiful
a beautiful flower
Amina
It pretends to be one of us, but it’s not quite human.

It masquerades as a person, wearing skin that
mimics our flesh, with joints designed to rotate and
glide like ours. It listens to the changing cadences
and tones of our voices, measures our temperatures
and respiration and blinking rates, and then reacts.
And when it behaves, it does so on accumulated
data, learned and converted into best practices.

But it does not have fantasies. It fills its shoes
with synthetic muscle and steel but never wears
another’s. It does not look at birds and wishes
to fly, nor looks to the moon in hopes of someday
making the lengthy trek to wander the gray crust.

It pretends to be one of us, but it’s not quite human.

Not yet.


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet
Megan Parson Feb 2019
Once there was a file,
The file was used in a program.
Unfortunately, could never smile,
Digitally stuck in rolling RAM.

Wanting a life beyond the lab,
To be called more than just a tab.
Instead AMAZING, cool & fab,
Being able to dance & dab.

Tired of being cut, copied and pasted,
Duplicated, locked and wasted.
So s/he married a trojan,
And eloped, far from that dungeon.

To party with android & PUBG,
Feasting on apples & candy.

Living life in blissful entirety!
Bonjour my fellow poets & poetesses, i know its been long but my exams are finally over  *dab*  I wrote this poem in my computer lab, with the first 2 lines left behind by some kind soul. Love, Megan.
Steelyvibe Jun 2018
Like a ferris wheel of self doubt
On the dance floor she moves about
Controlling limbs is not that easy
Stumbling round and looking ******
The crowd stare on in wild amusement
Of spasmodic spins and erratic movement
A spectacle not seen before
She collapses spreadeagled on the floor
Unnoticed a stranger enters at the back
An aerial extends, the controller tracks
She jumps up straight just like a soldier
Eyes focused and calm composure
He moves her into graceful steps
More appropriate for the female ***
Now she is surrounded by romancers
Wanting to be with, this robot dancer
A Simillacrum Jun 2018
Fine,
if a bitter wind blows

Fine,
if a liar arrives

on my patio
hard heart
worn
right
with the
knuckle
skin

Fine,
pressed on the razor's edge
(grinning ear to ear as if I wanted it)

Fine,
when what was once the worst
(grinning ear to ear as if I wanted it)

returns to a placid place
below,
so

a new threat may
emerge
A Simillacrum Apr 2018
You have the input to push your efforts over the line
You have done that for years

While you continue to care for and watch your wards
While their efforts set as low as fifty percent
Burn out their boards

You smell plastic as their destinies
Distort into petrol like pools
What do you mean this is for kids?

Living in light and then taking to dreams
Driven with a tank of their shame
Synthesized into nightmare fuel

You have the design to give of yourself and self assess
So what are you to do when the circuits surrounding
Lose touch with the rest and disconnect?

You have the input to push your efforts far
Push while you wait

The energies you expend will replicate and return
To the inherited Earth
A Simillacrum Apr 2018
Who is all alone?
Solipsism slept with me
Community then rose the sun
The thorned and black roses leapt
To attention when it struck their stems
The difference between self pity and sadness
The black and thorned roses leapt
To attention when it struck their stems
The milk of the mother of the world
Community then rose the sun
While solipsism slept in me
Who is all alone?


(The Suspicious Oracle groaned, the body and the mouth. They came to rest on the line between the poles. No grimace. No grin. No light deep, deep in the eyes. The Suspicious Oracle pushed an object across the table toward the audience. An old coffee tin turned black with paints and oils. Centered in bright yellow, the word TIPS. All around it, simple symbols were scratched out in metal. Fingers. Toes. Currency. A *****.)

Coin for a fortune?

(One of the drifters at The Suspicious Oracle's table gifted a coin to the tin. The Suspicious Oracle smiled, and shifted back into the shadows.)

Thank you.

(The Suspicious Oracle reached into their jacket and produced a card printed on one side with a pair of staring eyes. They slid it toward the drifter with the eyes turned up. The drifter flipped the card and read it to herself.)

'UNHAPPY IN LACK, UNHAPPY IN EXCESS'
MetaNote:

I'd like to thank my grandpa, Arnold Gene Evans, for teaching me lessons that no one else could. And if they could, they wouldn't bother. Here's to you, big guy. The memories of smiles, sun, and the cool breeze remind me every day that my gray is gold to some. And that's enough.

~ W.
Next page