Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Do ya ever feel like a shipwreck adrift in the water
Pieces of ya scattered like a lamb after the slaughter,
a mere shadow of your former sweet innocence
barely bobbing above the big sonar rinse?
Can't believe what ya read
nor believe what your supposed to believe.
Can't help wonderin' bout the agenda
Definitley can't pretend not to.
I suppose ya just have to go a bit numb
Drift on the wave and play kinda dumb.
CCTV surveillance, so called necessity,
oh **** big brother's watching ya ***.
Google is god and god is dead
Oh **** the'll crucify me for what I've just said.
Street lights ain't just street lights anymore
they're stickin' cameras in 'um expecting us to eat crow.
We'll all be robots that's the plan
punch ya in, download, scan.
Chips in your brain, chips in your nose
they'll go with us wherever we goes.
The grammar's all wrong. It's the prediction text.
No need for fingers. it's all effortless.
We're losing our common sense and our low-fi cities.
I'm losing my mind and I dont even feel ******.
They're cuttin' down trees 'cause they're blockin' our signies
and burnin' and lootin' 'cause they've got some agendies.
We're loosing our birds, they're falling out of the sky.
Would connecting the dots lead us to  the wyfry?
Losing's all right once ya get the hang of it.
Be fine in the mornin' and get back in the swing of it.
Turn on the screen, see what's new,
choke on our Krispies 'cause we forgot to chew.
Ah who cares our thoughts ain't our own.
It's all covered and programmed by our phone
It's all fun and games when there's nobody home,
dinner's sprayed and modified to the bone.
God knows what's in the water, the vaccination.
No worries we're all sci-fried and on vacation.
Ah yea they've got us all pegged and amplified,
can't sleep anymore, we're all irradiated and wyfried.
Wyfry, shake, scramble, grill an' bake
uhuh it's the burnin' down of the human race.
ah yea it's the slow fry and burn at the stake.
View on the current  state of a world on the verge of huge economic and social change that may be going un noticed generally in the midst of other distractions or considerations.
Witherhexis Oct 6
Skin supplanted by steel,

As pigment falls to paint,

A hollow duralumin chariot,

Ridden by the affluent,

Fortuitous souls, borne to their heart's requests

Down from below, as antipodes clash,

The behemoth clamors, with metallic clangs,

Conflicting privileges, one invulnerable,

Touted lands turned to tarnished wastes,

With a destiny targeted at armageddon,

Humanity's fate glides, like the zeppelin.
For an October goal of writing one project every day.
10/5 Theme: Robotic
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."
Maria Mitea Aug 21
It is Friday morning,
I feel like a robot lubricating its joints
with peanut  batter and jelly cookies,
repeating its movements over again;
jumping, running and extending into
the big robotic world with the hope of
reaching out to humans.

Driving to pick up Hilda, a soul
that needs a ride to heaven,
her husband a former mafia driver, in his homeland, lost his car and driving license,
as the virus came and switched  his brain on shootings and killings he witnessed,
in his youth days, when worrying more for money then life.

I hope for no shootings today,
Friday morning, and
The sun didn’t show up on the sky,
It can be too much even for him shining everyday, not an easy job warming up
earth’s feet when striving for a happy day.

It is early Friday morning,
The dog had no time for barking,
I feel like a robot that has been overused,

Waiting in the car,
I succumb to dreaming and export myself into a passed homeland life, were on Fridays evenings I laugh and wear cherries 🍒 behind my friendly years, when Apollon comes with his sweet kisses.

My client arrived , she moves like a robot too ... I drive ... we reach in heaven as we start talking and crying, ...

Hilda opens like a flower to the sunset, while she is telling her life story,
and how much pain she carries in her feet and arms, cut off at every sunrise by her mother denial, shootings hit her heart,
I pray and hope for her husband to be well,
and forgiven by Gods.

Hilda’s story wakes me up to being a human, ... between tears and pains we find our laughs, ... After we cry, laugh and feel  the pain, me and Hilda we feel like two humans on Friday morning.
Thank you Hilda!🙏✨
Jenifer S May 26
I was made into a perfect prototype of imperfection
I was made not with the syntax to love or be loved
But you, you took my mechanical heart in the palm of your hands
And through your kindness, you left me drugged

You've shown me emotions that I cannot comprehend
I've melted in your arms like heated ice
You've traced every inch of my skin and healed its wounds
And helped me feel fault-free and precise

You accepted my poorly designed model
Surrounded me with this alien feeling all around
And in this new world, I became lost and overwhelmed
Like a machine in water, I began to drown

My insecurities and doubts severed this tie
The errors in my programming beginning to surge
Rust spreading from the outside to my motherboard
All my fears and flaws beginning to emerge

With a mind built of short circuits and confusion, I bid you farewell in pain
But I hope, when I am fixed and refined, our paths may cross again
Meeting the  right person at the wrong time.
Michelle Apr 22
She held out her arm,
To be poked by the robot.
"Tell me my symptoms my symptoms
My heartache,
My pain-
Tell me that put together
They all make sense."
The robot gave but a quizzical glare.
A dead stare through emotion so dense.
It analyzed the data,
The beep boop menagerie.
"You're human."
Was all the robot could see.
Doctor, doctor! Tell me it is not so.
Why is my heart in tact,
When it is so broken?
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
Jade C Mar 5
lilacs hum to the biting air
purple heads pushing out of porous bones

sunlight soaks the soil and an old woman
crouches to pluck her mint and basil for her
afternoon brew

lilacs in my eyes I become one of those
Hayao Miyazaki robots––
broad metal chest
moss emerging from my rusty joints
moss like fur, grown over my ancient machinery

the old woman examines my reclaimed
metal frame
she peers thoughtfully through the moss
offers me mint
makes an alter of lilacs at my feet

the golden haze of spring noontime
melts into a blue evening

lilac buds wind into themselves
a clenching fist
a grip of of sweetness and goodnight
spring time has arrived!
01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101

Expressed through a galvanized circulation system
Increase lubrication and lower friction
Temperature rises in the generator core
Coolant system is online, watch the gauges, Paul
Apply power to the speaker system
Recalculate the algebraic expression, remember to factor
Translate message:

01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101...  I love you
This was just something dumb I wrote during computer coding in college a long time ago.  I think it's kind of dumb, but still, intend on sharing everything that I have amassed over these long years.  I hope you guys like this lunacy lol.
Next page