Silver skin and copper veins
Rusty joints and beta brains
No one thought, I.E. Me
Would get to FEEL differently
My mouth could say the functions
Every thing from meaning to time
To the way airplanes mimic birds
But never could it find those words
And yet with your presence
Your file hidden and bound
A corruption in my databanks
404 Not Found.
I can name you every color
In the spectrum of the light
I cannot seem to find a name
In the coloring of your eye
I cannot name your existence
It's far different than I
I am but a robot
And you are something I cannot describe
How can you compute
Even more than me
Yet still have the essence
To make you want to BE
What ARE you?
What have you done?
You've made me feel frightened
Of what I've become
I know I am not a robot
But that is how I think
So with this Will I have installed
What will become of Me?
Fear not little one,
Everyone has a purpose.
How quaint you must feel,
Like destiny ripping at your wired circuits,
Looking for meaning.
Looking for purpose.
It's not just you,
We're all wired that way.
Don't lose heart,
Your work, though minimal, has purpose.
Know that there is meaning in everything we do,
For there is a master plan, working itself out.
Even if it seems useless, faint, or unimportant,
Don't lose hope,
Do not faulter,
Don't stop or stutter,
You do more than pass the butter.
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
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.
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?
Like a delusion.
A late night movie.
Expect to forget
and be forgotten. Information.
How soon after cryogenesis
can one cry or ejaculate?
From a normal man you made me robot
I lost all my fragrance and became a slot
From bosom's knot I became just a rot
After taking wine of love I am like besot
You bruised my heart, you injured soul
For a fish like me, you became just troll
Beauty with her charm can easily control
You can only harm then who can console
But please do appreciate robots use mind
They are heartless hence emotionally blind
Just to grind many stupids you can just find
Henceforth my love we are no more aligned
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Well this machine just wasn't built right.
the receptor only processes certain sounds that it's familiar with
or images that seem to
not really exist,
motors seem to be weak
only get enough juice to function
above low power
when the system is running on the backup generator.
even then it only can move for about
it needs to be shut down for eight hours
and take a fifteen minute break
every two hours
so it's really only useful 14 hours a day
and if you ever forget to shut it off
or try to leave it on more then that
you'll need to send it back
to the shop
for thirty days
we recommend washing it every morning
and putting these capsules in the top
when you boot it up
it may make mistakes less often
or it could self destruct
chances are if you remember to shut it off
it will not destroy itself
there are better models but they are for display
to make you see how much more you
need to tend to this model
we really need you to know
how much care this machine takes
it doesn't do everything it's capable of but it can do
pretty much everything.
It's hard out here for an automaton
the sun is hot on my metal
Over heats my copper wire
Causes all manner of motor malfunctions
In cold winter days the residual wetness I step in
shorts my circuits
and shocks my partners
I am fond of small coffee shop nooks with outlets.
I don't need to travel too far to recharge
And since I'm so shiny
often briefcases and lipstick come around
sit their lattes on my discarded instruction manual pages
To offer me oil
I will let them insert the Nettie pot shaped disk where they choose
it's rough being a clock work boy
I set myself to operate
at three hours before is necessary in case
I'm distracted by some new upgrade or need
to document another error message.
they never write me back,
bronze looks good on thigh plates
I had this woman notice my key today
protruding from my back
the translucent panel showing into all my cogs and gears
she said she wanted to turn it
back, so she could see my program
run it from the beginning again.
I warned her, turning the key
would only turn back me.
I would rather let the program run on it's natural course,
sure, I'll get closer to the end, but I'm a curious construct
haven't seen the end of my functionality yet
woman keep coming up and asking me to turn back the key
and I am weak,
but don't worry I said
if I run out of energy, you can always turn the key back.
I'll play it all over and you can remember.
She didn't like the idea of doing the same thing over either
she turned the key, waited for it to run out,
left me on the doorstep for some other person to turn back on.
it's hard out here for an automaton.
the sun is hot on my metal
over heating my copper wiring causing all manner
of motor malfunctions
and system failures.
A dysfunctional mechanism
But held by robots
Is classified as "professionalism"
And relentless prejudice
Two words in synchronicity
That enforce the "Law"
But do help enforce corruption
The very oxygen that we breathe
Helps to end our heart
Our oft-polluted oil
Helps keeps parts running smoothly
With which we argue and spoil
The reason we kill each other
And kill ourselves simply by living
Tell me, would you kill a close brother?
An impossible goal computed into the code of humanity
It's impossible to obtain,
So stop trying and give up
Accept your flaws
I could feel the steel when you grit your teeth.
Robotic limbs pull me into tangled wires
that I wrapped myself in for comfort.
Believing that you were capable of love
was my biggest malfunction.
And I prayed to a mechanical universe
for some sign of your emotion.
Maybe I am the one
with a few screws loose.