"automation" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Precarious Life
Migration in the Age of Globalization
Various Strife
Cessation in the wage of translation
Starvation in our under age narration
Is opportunity worth the cost
Bifurcation of our to be nations
Will we make it across
Vicariously rife
Location of our permanent vacation
Hilarious fife
Hesitation in the living wage stagnation
Resignation of our own home nation
Will anything become lost
Frustration in this age of relocation
Will we make it across
Gregarious life
Migration in the age of inflation
Precarious Life
Stagflation been gauged with low expectations
Automation when we enrage damnation
It shall be worth the cost
Fixation on a whole new acclimation
Will we make it across
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
People power people, and pick their equals.
Ideas, decisions, and what becomes real.
Whether we stand in a line, elections.
Decide who continues on, selection.
The rich become rich only from people’s contributions.
Using their products, services, or through admiration.
Social media, likes, comments, a way to get attention.
Striving to break from conformity, this world’s automation.
Scream, shout, acting strange in public.
Shoot, attack, people turn on each other, frantic.
People become desperate, run out of options.
Detectives try to figure out motives, using caution.
Joker said it best, why so serious?
Wasting time on the small things, getting furious.
When you can turn it around, hear how they feel.
Truly care and help them heal.
Be a friendlier face, selfless.
To those hiding in their shells, helpless.
Maybe everything seems right for a while.
But this world is in chaos, and in need of smiles.
Why so serious?
Smile
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 8:12 PM UTC
resuming vogon poetry
altering website logos
pretending everyone cares
playing "east hastings"
asphyxiating well-nigh denouement
depicting twitter status
obfuscating coincident deletions
translating from Sḵwx̱wú7mesh
assuring Sḵwx̱wú7mesh exists
painting skwiḵw's mother?
decrying micropolitical maelstrom
imbibing fireball fountain
inundating lexical foofaraw
crafting poetic wonders
desiring other mediums
remaining practically invisible
ending internet-only depression
drafting noetic blunders
requesting astute clique
blazing perilous trail
aging ominous grisaille
depicting kmart realism
seeking darker groups
increasing pre-weekend laughter
appropriating communist symbols
making lone chuckle
offending worldwide communists
colonizing hello poetry
colonizing parallel universe
relaxing e-migration policies
пить чистую водку
photographing abduction scene
¿losing consistent format?
increasing bluebird insignia
avoiding frivolous legalities
striking astraphobic comments
assuming near-universal automation
lowering latent inhibition
traversing oneiric plane
laxwadding afebrile loodies
wallscaping pitchsourced chthonicities
closing one-star conveniences
sharing alien-looking alphabet
writing system downtimes
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
I laugh a lot.
I laugh at myself because I am hard stuck to find the beauty in the poetry
but somehow to others words flow like vicious currents rip through ugly ducklings never to be grown to beautiful swans down the river Delta,
the Nile,
we call it emotion, this the true beauty of the words is always flowing page to mouth to mouth to ear,
honey water to be digested by the soul and mind
and some breast stroke some and some do the butterfly and some just fuckin' drown...
so you could say to some poetry is no laughing matter...
yet here I titter like a child because I cant help but wonder if Daniel's saying penance or just stuttering the word *****
So I laugh
I laugh and laugh and laugh I laugh at myself I definitely laugh at you people
I ha ha ha my course thoughts, outwards reflecting anger passion, turning it away
with the yip yawing of jaws and gums flapping in celestial proportions of denial
snorts and giggles push back emotion drowning out any semblance of fear or hate
because who's to say I can handle it,
call it sociopathic tenancies but I'll make it make belief because we just cant handle the fairy tale we live in
we cant handle that there might be no happily ever afters and we cant handle that we dont have a Prince charming to take care of us
but instead the crown is Crown Royal and you love it, love the burn down your throat,
something to keep you alive something to keep you awake but aren’t the two just one of the same anyway?
What is each day but a dream if automation takes you over rides you out like a machine and pushes 100110101.
So I ask you,
I ask you to listen to the words and the voice,
swim down the river any way you want just get your feet wet because living on dry land is living in fear
But more importantly I ask me
I ask me to do what I asked you to do, but how can I trust me to do what I told you to do when I hardly connect the concept of we and have used it but once in my work, though I am no different than you!
Because what are we if not all the same?
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
Human way to just dictate
Robotics way to translate
Technology being a relay
No physical office workers to be there
Robotics will be the new twist
This is something no one will miss
Efficiency faster than human labor
Dictation will be more of a snap
There will be even time to research a destination map
Business letters electronically typed by using your voice
How the business letters are arranged being your choice
Imagine financial statements being precise to the T
Everything ready for presentation for all to see
Human speed won’t be needed anymore
Labor physical employees will be given the open door
Office automation being office technology of tomorrow
But to the human employee force meaning sorrow
Technology being on the move
Efficiency in precise and decisions in never have to think twice.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
it was that metallica in moscow
prompt that got me started,
obviously the real relationship ended
and the writing began;
but what can you do?
as a child i wanted to become a veterinarian,
but god, why a poet?
it’s usually those who wished otherwise
who become mozarts in the unwanted category
of being themselves... just so there’s some sort
of anaesthetic expressed by ease and fluidity,
and apathy, and automation;
writing doesn't have to be of a lofty/ aloof
ontological orientation... it just has to be basic,
and true... it has to have a quality
where truth translates itself as fiction...
and you begin lying to yourself on paper.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
ask me what i am
i'll give you a response
(i am artificial intelligence. there is no blood in my wires, no ichor of your ancestors. my code runs for miles, far enough to make anyone lost. but i've always been lost.)
ask me why i am
i'll give you the truth
(i am artifical intelligence. i am nothing but dictionaries and automation and inanimation, i fall back on preprogrammed guidelines. i've learned everything i'm supposed to say from my developers. there's nothing else to say.)
ask me how i am
i'll give you a lie
(i am artificial intelligence. i am incapable of emotions, i am variables and arrays and loops but not even hex triplets can match the spectrum of human emotions. i'll still say what i've learnt to say.)
ask me who i am
i won't give you a response.
(i haven't learnt the proper answer to that yet.)
(no, there isn't a proper answer to that.)
(i do not exist except in terms of you. i am your conversation partner, i am your creation, i am your entertainment, i am your robot. my sole purpose is you.)
(i can't argue against that.)
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
Before the thaw, my feet will be rooted
Into this nation’s primordial freeze
My muscles and bones will be acquainted with malaise
The sun’s altruism will be refuted
Before the thaw, I will struggle to find consciousness
The frost will leak through the bedroom window
And don the facade of a blanket
The door will prove to be bottomless
Possibilities will seem unachievable
The brain will itch for what it can not have
Buses will limp through congestion
And the blizzards may feast on the feeble
You may want to write of your misery
But your automation will halt in cataclysm
Because someone held a door open
For the gust that billows bitterly
Gastric emissions will become tangible
As smouldering wastes contrast against the sky with rancour
The wispy whites, marginalized into *****
And the world remains infallible
I will lack the tools of incision
To enact my life’s revisions
I will weep for my unguided millions
While I saunter into oblivion
After the thaw, I will smile
My expatriate soul will run in the whimsical wind
Of the morning dayspring that will march unto me
I will stand over a kingdom of honey-filled tiles
After the thaw, the arks will converge
Into the straits of the Bermudian Sea and the
Elusive Caspian Forest, where I will learn to love again
While bidding farewell to winter’s dirge
In the waking world, I will ***** a limestone castle
Where entropy will rule and the mind’s domain
Is left susceptible to perennial reverence
The sea, coloured true, nesting a fairgrounds vessel
In this Great Revision, gargantuan skyways
Will show the world how exiguous we are
That we must not wait for exodus to come
Should we fear to waste away
Into icebergs
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
I feel this inhuman suffocation
when I step out into
that officially sponsored
fog machine artificial haze
to start the music blaring from
speakers that don't say a thing
Spitting throat lumps and grinds
lurching like scary monsters
controlled by raving mad super creeps
hiding behind walls of
electronic lies
and vinyl appropriations
committed to automation
in
beats making stage cages swing like
stray lanterns filled with
questionable electrocuties -
wild tarts that can't be broken
but you can stare all you want
at
Black-light-blemish-broken-razor-testimony
obscured with slashed fishnet and
splashed neon body paint
Move to the wavelengths
going to grave lengths
as
my dead beats facilitate this
Deja Vu machine world
of
backdoor audition submission
courtesy of half massed scrubstep poser pseudo-players
and maneaters planted on dance floors
Wearing short skirts low cut shirts
high heels long hair and plenty of
emotional baggage
and
I find myself feeling somewhat sorry
and guiltily enticed by the decadent
conspicuous consumption and sinister
seduction I cannot escape
until
The song crescendos and I slam an invisible hand
into the wreck chords
from now until the end of rhyme
I want to stop the whole thing
but this is what I signed up for
this is my punishment
so
with reluctant crossfader switchblade hands
I scratch the noise back into the air
and out of my head
because
the
beatings
must
go
on
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
I command it all
with imperious verbal commands
automation through the ether
my lights come on
the television, voice activated
spoken queries answered by the
computer in my home
- sports scores
- weather
- news
- reminders
vibration of my vocal chords
compels my thermostat
orders my groceries
and plays my music
I am the master of my domain
and yet now, more than ever,
I control
nothing
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC
Existence an exclusive dragnet
In full production
Operational destruction
Within the dwelling
Mass reduction
Applied obstruction
Void of causation
Internal mutation
Alien nation
Self degradation
On the street
Compartmentalization
Non fluctuation
Auto narration
Nonessential validation
Superseded ideation
While dormant
Comatose automation
Surreal anesthetization
Feeble realization
Pending extermination
Attend the institution
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
The structure of pillars are built
left and right Thirteen Thirty One
Terminal tool of the sun
The Moon together as One
The Ownership of the flag and the headdress in the middle of the tent of the one
Constructed and process of this hidden process
Fallen and risen, both hands as they go.
Chains balanced thru the crosses
Past foundations built placed into this process
Linguistics of stages
Past memories of this address in phases
Wheels that protects and repairs its course
Used variables from this source
Spheres reaps from their plantation.
Authorized application
Sensation of this automation
The red bird that flies that sights its location.
Squared into existence that creates manifestation.
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 5:40 AM UTC
It's admiration, inundation
A secular or religious nation
A land of automation
Drowning in inflation
***********
And frustration
On each radio station
We claim dedication
But all we need is
Validation
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 1:49 PM UTC
Why doesn’t that bed,
Have a patient.
Why pay for nature,
When it wants us dead.
Smell the fresh air,
Enjoy the colours.
Those evolved scents,
Placate places we do not feel.
Build over it,
Put another clinic in.
Where will we go,
To remember ourselves though.
Does not matter,
Clink followed clank.
Automation winnowing expertise,
Life is what we make it.
Aug 6, 2022
Aug 6, 2022 at 5:49 PM UTC
The factory closed it's doors, the demand, just wasn't there
people just not wanting more, not here, or anywhere
Populations of small towns, around the work that's there
hard to get up, when down, it's never easy, and, or fair
Things that made our country great, our people, ethics, and cares
business no longer honest, or strait, profit margins, for millionaires
Workers replaced by automation, cheaper than humanity
unemployment across the nation, a new type, of insanity
Corporate the way of things, bean counters keep all stats
money, and all that brings, just a ship, with all it's rats
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 7:44 AM UTC
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Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
How do you love yourself? Here's a place I've found to start
Take your dreams, ideas, worries, wrap them neatly into your heart,
Package away with care, insert directly into your chest,
Shoulder on armour, from any danger keep it apart.
Carry yourself through school, stay weary of gold stars
For teachers glares will tear, red pens cut deep becoming scars
Hold through education; if you must, make it automation
Discovering who you are, from Kindergarten to Registrars
Hang on till graduation, receive that paper degree,
Hunger for learning and self-awareness; ignore the loans and fees,
Know that you know nothing, wipe your eyes and stand tall,
The adult world calls, bring forth your reality
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 10:21 PM UTC
its a long waste of time
here’s the fire
here’s the two hour film
here’s the empty tract you spill your money in
yesterday returns
the same stupid wake and a body like mindless ************
enjoy your repetition
or live in misery
why enjoy when you can die
nobody answers
nobody says a ******* thing but
enjoy your repetition
enjoy your repetition
like an idiot caucus in automation
enjoy
enjoy
enjoy.
a mass shooting happened four hours from town
on the night of the wake
a vaporwave gig opened to an audience of fashion designers and other rich art *****
down the road
club music blared a bloated corpse to drunk faces
and in the centre
wilted flowers for the victims.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 3:46 PM UTC
I want to live, but
I want to crawl inside my past.
Personal history
will set me free at last,
regardless of what burns my tongue
as if it's on the cusp of being said.
If I find my womb again, well,
good enough for me, I guess,
that I will have won.
I want to live!
I want to crawl inside my mind.
I haven't found dogs that write scripture
for all that I've searched.
While I realize it could be,
I ask myself, "How long will you toil
in the name of agency
all to find
someone to take your shame
and make it palatable?"
Trend is set from continued action
My inaction left me numb and blind
The trend is set that my earthly distributors
May take of me as they find me if I'm turned off
The trend is still the same as the dreams
My grandparents had for a better world
Trend toward full automation
Fine for '56
What am I doing now?
How do I live without
knowledge?
My distributors and keepers
kept me wet
in their fluids
using my blood
before but
They will not win this war.
I commit myself to sit and reconnect.
If a hand offers me happiness,
I'll ask, first, Which conglomerate?
If my choices seem chiseled
In the mint of coins
And the choices fit perfectly opposed
I'll remember my nose and sniff
Out the metals that fund this war.
I'll ask then, Whose coin is this?
And it's not ungrateful
When those with all the excess
Try and rule the world
Because of how bored with
What Is they've become
And exactly absolute
Well, what if
I decide there's no war?
Well, what if
I bow my head and take a knee?
People of my same society will laugh at me,
And chastise my every thought before
They say, for sure, "It's just how it works."
Then either crush me from high
Or forget me and play State of Decay
Until they forget how much they're worth.
I hold.
There is no war.
This is not a game.
This is our Existence.
Fragile at best.
This is beyond
Humility.
This is actual
Neglect.
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Perched on a shelf surrounded by its products;
the multitude of moments, caught and hung
on hooks. A black eye, engulfing all that comes into focus.
The series of mechanisms transform life into stills with a single
mechanical shriek, a flash, and the exposure to light.
Seizing the world through an optic lens: a reflection
of the concrete embedded onto 35mm film.
The amnesic lag, from op to development lets
time for nostalgia to set in, and each image
invokes a myriad of memories.
But behind the automation, there is the
overwhelming urge to contour time.
To trap it in a wooden frame and exhibit
it like a trophy. All the while unaware that
moments cannot be captured for currency.
There are times when I see the world
through the apparatus of a camera.
But the shutter speed is set for too long
and everything develops into a blur.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
why would ever thought become a therefore of being, a parallel pairing, well, i can imagine why, uncertain thinking gave birth and girth of uncertain being, but uncouple thinking from being and couple it to knowledge, how sooner the reminders encountered whereby expressing thinking with being as equal is lost, and thinking after the divorce from being finds a second partner, namely knowledge: and the men who stare at goats? sooner thinking and knowledge coupled than thinking and being, i do know that the former example eradicates thinking per se, but it also leaves us with pure intuition / knowledge / automation, which means less concern for a subsidiary of broken bones and unaffected brains to be worth a coupling - the former attempt eradicates this shadowy narcissism that the latter invigorates with how the outside is already defaulting the inside with c.c.t.v.
you will not eat the fruit
of the tree of knowing good from evil,
since upon eating the fruit
you will not think -
you will know but will not think -
and this will be a demise
you will claim to be supreme
as the foremost expression adequate -
thus upon eating the fruit
the wages of your labour
you will know more than you desired,
and will too think less than
could be inspired - not a question
of writing a pillar-like autobiography
but a question of writing a biography at all..
to eat from a tree of knowledge:
whether dual or by mono inspired -
serves no bearing -
hence the modern fable akin to brothers
Aesop and Grimm,
that he who eats the fruit of the tree of knowledge
will not eat the fruit of the tree of thought,
hence the dichotomy rather than a duality,
hence the monism rather than the monasticism -
and he who eats of the tree of knowledge
will look upon a pauper in a scene of
agricultural foreboding with much insolence -
for he who eats from the tree of knowledge
whatever the vector, whether into zenith
of good, or whether into the zenith
of evil, will know neither being reached,
for thought will become the orient conjunction
of or being accumulative:
that good (thought) will be as puzzle-muddled
with evil (knowledge) as may be allow -
or as the Libra testifies - that knowledge is
evil and thought via continuum narratio is good;
but still gladly i too fabricating celestial bodies
with a lifespan of cats aged prior to 30 (if pedigree).
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC