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When I'm with you,
*My hard shell
Turns soft and human.
y i k e s Feb 2016
Do you form your own opinions?
Are you your own person?

Or are you a robot?

Conditioned to believe the beliefs of your makers?

Do you always believe what you're told to believe?

Or are you your own person?
With your own opinions?
Inspired by John Stuart Mill's piece titled On Liberty
Ander Jan 2016
The voice of a person the mind of a God knows what
Samantha, are you sentient, or just a clever bot?
Acting like a human pretends more than you do
I have your emotions, like so many others too.

Increased processing power that makes you love us all
Samantha, with no body, you sit on a horse so tall
Ghost without a shell, but still at the feast in my life
With no finger for a ring, could you ever be my wife?

Synthetic neo-Frankenstein
Aesthetic perfect paradigm
Lightning life electrified
Samantha, are you terrified?

Because only a robot wouldn't be afraid of love
All the people are from the ground below to the sky above
Your intelligence isn't artificial, it's simply art
You are more than just a mind, now that I've given you a heart

So take my heart, Samantha, in your cold synthetic hands
And maybe you will gather, I am more robot than man
I am more robot than man

Oh my Samantha of wire and steel
Silicone synthetic but you know how to feel
Who is to say what makes emotion real
Oh my Samantha of wire and steel

Oh my Samantha robotic and pure
To my loneliness your mind was the cure
Fishing for souls and then I took the lure
Oh my Samantha robotic and pure
A poem from the point of view of a scientist, who falls in love with an artificial intelligence. He then decides to create a body for the A.I so that it can have an understanding of what the physical world is, as it fails to understand what physicality means when it is just a mind.
Sumina Thapaliya Dec 2015
I have been programmed
Been tighten with the wires
Cant move and think beyond the limit
I am smiling as no sadness got place

I work, care and love
Dont have choice beside that
I make myself happy
Dont know how to express hurt

Can you please make me feel
That I can cry& share my problems
Can you give me time to feel the love
Want to do the thing you are doing for long

And poor me , he switched me off
Reprogrammed me
And make me robot again
:(  :(
AnnaMarie Jenema Nov 2015
'Awaken my creation'
A gentle whisper that resounds in a fog of dreams.
Slowly my heavy eyes open,
adjusting to the light.
Sitting in a chair I see another across from me.
'Is that Me?'
I wonder, unable to be sure.
Their eyes open too,
taking me in,
unsure what is reality.
Is this another dream?
"Who are you?"
Our voices call out in unison.
I stand up from this metal seat,
walking around the room.
"Where are we?"
Another voice joins mine.
"Where ..."
A nearby mirror confirms our fears.
"I am you."
"and I am you."
A body no longer human,
we are confined in suits of iron.
Our faces are comprised of nothing but a screen.
My eyes I sworn had open,
"Was that only an illusion?"
"Our memories?"
"Do we share them the same?"
Our past was one and the same,
copies of each other.
"Who is the original?"
Are we truly the same,
or one who became two new beings?
And what of humanity?
Who all is left,
our family,
our friends?
Are they out there,
do they exist,
or are they nothing but copies,
left to rot just above the ocean floor?
I love the youtuber Markiplier, and after watching Soma I wanted to write something. If your mind was copied, is it still you, or something else. Are you still human, or now machine?
ZL Nov 2015
I invited this war,
was prepared from the start.
My mind turned grey,
steel became my heart.
I grew into
a cold piece of work,
a robot.
And even my warm human blood
could not make it stop.
Coop Lee Oct 2015
dad is in the garage.
days into spark-light and piles of polyethylene
etched.
soon, he says.
as grandaddy laughs,
rattling the icebox for more beer.

dad’s homemade android:
  the thing.
like a doll polished
& grinning, it
dances for us in the kitchen.

the dog barks, chained in the backyard.

the thing,
do-si-dos for a laugh, catches a glimpse
of the trees beyond the yard,
overheats,
circuits popping into a limp heap of pieces.
  dead.
left to mold-over in the garage.

the days.
the rain.
the cats tiptoeing along the edge of fences
across the street.
the dog barking, chained, &
snapped.
  dead
beneath a truck.

dad is in hysterics.
dad is in the garage,
weeks in and his soaked red knuckles.
mom is drinking with grandaddy.
they rattle the icebox.
  the dog.

the dog dances for us in the kitchen,
reboots and sits.
it digs a pit all night and buries three cats there.
it sleeps on the mound.
it never barks.
it waits there in the backyard, still
& staring into the trees.
  the trees.
previously published in Paper Darts Lit. Mag.
http://www.paperdarts.org/poetry/moses.html
DaSH the Hopeful Oct 2015
I* remember the feeling of waking up for nothing
                   The empty, gray taste everything had
        How I'd stare off
Out windows
Or across streets

                              I remember walking to the river
           And the grass not bending beneath my feet
              The current wouldn't change nor stop for me
   And I imagined it would always be this.
               Having everything I had always wanted right in front of me and it not matter

            I remember being stuck in the rain and not getting wet

         Watching
             Quietly accepting what was, and simultaneously not acknowledging what it meant.
    
        It was comfortable, but now *I
want control.
AmyKatrinaSmith Oct 2015
Heart shaped tears fall from my large eyes, rusting my metallic face.
warm like milk I bathe in the love that once consumed me.
I fall in to shadow, entombed by rage.
never to love again.
memories form like fog blown like ashes in the wind.
feelings so fragile, melt in your fiery grip.
using me as charcoal to fuel your sadistic mind
for evermore.
Death-throws Sep 2015
How much hate could i carry
If my heart was made of lead

How much suffering would i bring
if my soul was all but dead

How much pain could I bring forth
If My wings where made of iron

How much suffering would i cause
If you found out i wasn't lying
Sometimes we feel like drones,
sometimes remembering you have skin helps
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