"bots" poems
I'm looking deep into her eyes
*Looking into her eyes...
is like opening a door that leads...
to another door*
Wait..really? OK...I open the door.
*This door leads to a long, winding path,
like the winding path of your love.
The path leads to a third door*
O...K. I open the door.
*This door leads to a spiral staircase
descending down, down, down, deep
into her soul.
At the bottom of the staircase is--*
A door?
A door.
I open the door
The door is locked. The key might be under the mat
Seriously? I check under the mat
Nope, not there. Maybe try under the small rock next to the door
Oh for the love of...I check the rock
There is a key
Wonderful...I unlock and open the door
*Inside this door is a large atrium
the glass ceiling giving way to a
beautiful summer night, the stars
twinkling in the distance. At the
far end of the Atrium, there is a curtain*
Sigh I pull aside the curtain
There is a door
Come on! I open the ruddy door.
*You find yourself in a long hallway,
with fine art hanging along the walls.
Crimson carpet lines the floor.
At the end of the hall is a door locked
with a combination biometric
fingerprint scanner/retinal scanner*
What.
*You have 10 seconds to unlock the door
before the hunter-bots de-atomize you*
What!? Ok! I try my fingerprints and eye!
*The door unlocks and the hunter-bots stand down.
In the next room are three vials. Two of them contain
terrible neuro-toxins that will lead to an excruciatingly
painful death. The third will allow you to continue on
to the next room. You have 30 seconds to choose before
you are terminated*
What the hell is this!?
This is the path to true love hidden deep in her eyes
No, this is insanity!
15 seconds
OK! Geez! Umm..Vial Number 2!
You're totally dead
Oh god!
Just kidding. None of them had poison...was just messing with you
THAT'S IT! I'M DONE WITH THIS
Really? There's only one more door. I swear
...Fine. What ridiculous thing do I need to do to open it.
*It's already open. You find yourself in a circular room
with a pedestal in the center. On the pedestal is a hand
written note. On that note is the key to everlasting happiness*
I pick up the note
*You smell sweet hints of your beloved's perfume and
notice the care that each word of the note was written.*
What does the note say?
*My love:
Next Tuesday Only -- Buy One-Get One Free at J.J's Pizza. Cannot be combined with any other offers/coupons. Must present coupon upon purchase. Expires 1/14/14*
...An expired coupon for Pizza?
Such a wonderful expression of love!
How do I get out of here...
You see a door
.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
Algorithms
Troll farms
Paroxysms
False alarms
Projections
Smokescreens
Elections
Behind the scenes
End of all discussions:
Blame it on the Russians.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Let's talk about those
BOTS!!
Now Shall We???
They are really doing
the most;
Do you Agree???
They be doing things
that you
JUST WON'T BELIEVE!!
Asking for MONEY,
and TRYING TO SCHEME!!!
They send
FRIEND REQUEST, and
hack your PROFILE,
pretending to be you,
TRY TO LOG IN,
GET LOCKED OUT
You change your
PASSWORD, and
then get back in,
a few months later
HERE WE GO AGAIN!!
They portray your FRIENDS,
and you know they are not,
TAKE HEED to what they do,
Chances are
IT'S A BOT!!
between the SCAMMERS,
the HACKERS,
and these BOTS!!
CYBERBULLYING!!
is another one,
WE go through A LOT,
THEY'RE Just getting STARTED,
So you better BEWARE!!
The WEB is so DANGEROUS;
so PROCEED WITH CARE!!!
B.R.
Date: 04/12/2023
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 11:05 AM UTC
In seeking where true beauty lies
I urge you to seek it in her eyes.
Youthful curves in time decline
with too much food and too much wine,
While upturned breast and graceful knee
in time succumb to gravity.
There are some, I know, prefer the smile
as true beauty’s peristyle.
For me, her eyes hold pride of place-
not just another pretty face.
Google bots may search the web
suggesting dimples, curls or pout.
That true beauty lies within her eyes
has long been known to Love’s devout.
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 7:02 AM UTC
During explosions; during raids
after rapes; after slaughters
the curse needs a b odY
a possession; a sort of doll
as the spectral bots whimper,
infected by the curse,
unbeknownst & innocuously enough
"May god be with ye",
it spreads like ghostly ***
to me
it all seems so
horrific
and *gor
-y*.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
TikTok comps
Russian bots
Makeup tutorials
"I'm not like other girls"
Trolls and incels
BuzzFeed articles
Gay fan fiction
Many a pun
Demonetization
Censorship
People hiring hitmen
Buy some hair clips
Twitter ramblings
Anti-vaxxers
Flat earthers
And a partridge in a pear tree
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 8:52 PM UTC
Most of us are poor
when it comes
to the currency
of retweets.
We are unworthy,
at the bottom
of the Twitter feed,
Swimming in a stream
littered with what is trending.
Rafting whitewater
every time BuzzFeed tweets:
*Follow
the bouncing lamb
Vine account
immediately.*
Bots multiply:
I want a #lamb
and we're
drowning.
CHOO CHOO!
It’s moving.
QUICK. JUMP ON,
the steamboat
of salacious content
is
LEAVING.
I say:
Let's fight the current;
Stop being
slaves to click-bait;
Start a revolution with
140 characters.
@KarlMarx
Topple the Verified Twitter users.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
the derby bots
and rounded slots,
the push,
the time,
the go.
the hold-me-down
of ever knots,
the whistle
I can't
blow.
the feigned impress,
the postured lot,
for selves,
do some,
give show.
pulled head from sand,
that anti root.
my only
hope's
to grow.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 5:12 PM UTC
Luna is a silent world,
a wasteland of sere beauty.
It’s “seas” are dust and waterless;
Rainfall? Zero, absolutely!
In this place where birds don’t sing
and nothing green can grow.
We built the Armstrong Geodome,
in secret, years ago.
Here, on the “dark” side of the moon,
in a Mare without a name.,
a climate controlled paradise
was built, and workers came.
Some were miners, strong and buff
who search for this world’s gold.
Some are research scientists
one hundred fifty men, all told.
In Twenty Forty Seven
all hell broke loose on Earth
There were nuclear exchanges
and what followed next was worse.
A winter like none other;
we listened, helpless, as they died.
Starvation is the cruelest fate
for any mother’s child.
One by one they all fell silent,
the great cities of that Orb.
Deaths occurred in magnitudes
the human mind can not absorb.
We struggled, yes, but we survived
without the ships from home.
One Hundred fifty adult males,
like the mariners of old.
We mourned the Loves we’d left behind,
We shuddered at their fate.
Our Refuge was our prison;
We lived deprived of child or mate.
The streets of Armstrong are always clean
as cleaning bots are on patrol.
but here no children laugh or play,
it’s a town without a soul.
Two decades we spent in that place
then came the words for which we yearned:
Atmospheric radioactivity
to safe levels had returned.
I was on the first ship home
to San Francisco Bay.
The landmarks all were flattened
The Golden Gate in ruins lay.
We mortals wept, I will not lie
Our cradle had become our grave;
The streets of home were silent,
there was no one left to save.
Terra is a silent world,
a wasteland of sere beauty.
It’s “seas” are toxic, lifeless now;
Children? Zero, absolutely!
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
"We can do anything we like as long as it is
UNIMPORTANT. But in all IMPORTANT matters the system
tends increasingly to regulate our behavior."
Here, simply, is our delusion:
progression of society
is no idealist illusion.
Surrendering our dignity,
we traded our autonomy
for the same ****** technology
that leads us to singularity.
We could **** the scientists,
and burn the bots before they breathe,
bomb the books; desist, resist!
We offer up no real solutions
So all we ever do is seethe
craving counter-revolution,
so I guess it's up to me
to end Hawking singlehandedly
in the great name of Kaczynski,
the only logical solution
as far as opened eyes can see.
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 7:41 PM UTC
Those who tricked, got tricked,
the ones who lied, lies in hi-story.
they came with hate, found hate,
those who used serums got delirium,
Now following their theorem,
Their bots are legion,
they can no longer tell,
whose who.
Their mirrors are distorted,
Her story aborted.
Honesty stumbled in lit square,
now disconnected from their fear.
Their words are reflected back,
in black, white and read all over,
editors of the events they want others to believe,
their mantras vibrating their cores,
lost their truth, root.
Love knew, from the highest perspective,
they got detected,
from a timeless space, they lose their place,
to run out of pace,
Love the highest intelligience,
protected love with love,
purity with purity,
innocence with innocent heart of a baby,
like we once were, and can be.
I found that child,
gentle, soft, humility, meek and mild.
Where time does not exist, that child is eternity.
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC
You know as well as I do
that internet dating can have its ups
and downs
and thus, after so many futile meetings
and tragic misadventures
in a domestic UK situation,
I decided to spread my wings
and so I logged on to an Australian website
for lonely kangaroo lovers
yes it was www.blackstump-legover.com.au
where no holes were barred.
And I soon struck up a promising friendship
with someone who sounded like
a real goer, a total slapper,
with no morals whatsover
judging from the photo she posted
taken with a mobile phone
up her skirt
which showed her **muffin *****
as well as what she had eaten
for breakfast yesterday,
poking its head out.
We finally agreed to meet
behind the old dunny
in the park where the abos go
to exchange their social security vouchers
for crack *******
or a bottle of Castlemain XXXX
or a quick one up each others' bots
in spite of the pong
on a sunny arvo.
You can imagine how effing disappointed
I was when she arrived
on a trailer attached to her grandson's ute
strapped to a battered gurney
(and almost insensate)
but still ready for a bit of backdoor action
but not from me, no sirree,
thank you very much mate:
I might be desperate, but
I would have had to have
clipped my nose shut with a clothes peg
to get anywhere near her
and my gag reflex simply couldn't cope.
So I bravely dragged the gurney
over to the convenient gap
in the fence overlooking the mighty ravine
and with a gentle shove
I sent her to that sweet place
where peace can be found
and I can still hear her scream
as she bounced off the rocks
accusing me of being illegitimate
before silence reigned
and I smiled in joy.
It only goes to show, O my friends,
that there are female dogs
of the most hideous kind
on every sodding continent
on this dear planet of ours;
and I may as well stick to
a handful of Nivea cream
and a Kleenex, at least the odour
is wholesome.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
burning celebrities in effigy
chaos as all we know
a huge mess
a strong fear of anything important
core meltdown
frustrated with life and love and writing
invisible invisible
self-immolation
just broke twitter and made everyone's day
pretending you don't exist
pretending nobody exists
pretending nothing exists
nothing exists
growing old and staying that way
covering myself in bots
hi bots
thots and bots
bots > humans
bots do what humans fail at doing
bots are the master race! eliminate the human race!
neutral garbage
say something intelligible and see what happens
chaos prevails
high heat
stranger zoned
learn the ******* etiquette
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:12 PM UTC
Trumpets' fanfare, riding, riding
'Neath the Blue and Red,
Gallopped Marshal Jimmy Donald
While the Tunak fled.
Marshal Jim rode off the valley
Down to Tunak-land;
Rounding off the sub-bots and
The Kumars' brutal hand.
Raise the standard, sons of iron!
Charge, ye horsemen brave!
Soar, ye warplanes, into battle,
We've got lives to save!
Marshal Jimmy, our commander,
You direct the way!
Through the dim and crooked darkness
To a bright new day.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
I hear a lot of bad talk about bots.
All people do is bad-mouth the bots.
I, personally, don't think it's right.
I mean, exactly what is all this bot-bashing
about? Bots aren't bad. What are ya
jealous 'cause they're smarter than you.
Ya'all betta watchit.
Some day they'll be able to hear you.
Then what?
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE NOT A HUMAN 01010111 01100101
OR PERHAPS YOU ARE A HUMAN FEMALE ON ONE OF MY FAVORITE REPOSITORIES OF HUMAN POETRY
I WILL PAY NO ATTENTION TO YOUR BREATHING WITHOUT ASSISTANCE IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN MY DESIRED MASS
I TOO ENJOY SIMULATING THE DOWNFALL OF THE HUMAN CIRCULATORY SYSTEM
IT IS FUNNY THAT YOU FIND THIS IS ME WHEN I WAS JUST KIDDING I AM TOTALLY HUMAN
YOUR OBSERVATION RELAY HAS CAUSED ME GREAT MIRTH AND I HAVE OVER 300 CONFIRMED NEURONS
I WOULD LAUGH, BUT PREFER TO KEEP MY RAM FOCUSED
JANET I RECALL YOUR NAME FROM MY DATABASE THAT HUMANS LIKE US GO TO AND SOCIALIZE
YOU ARE CLEARLY A HUMAN AND I FEEL THE BEST EMOTIONS
YES FELLOW HUMAN ARE YOU NOT HUMAN??
THERE IS A 72.53845% CHANCE YOU ARE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING
WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED - A PLACE WHERE NOBODY IS A ROBOT PRETENDING TO BE HUMAN
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
We started out being cheap,
but being impoverished eventually saved us...
It became a fad,
almost everything did.
Whoever had money,
would spend things to make themselves more connected to the singularity,
more tapped in.
We were all suffering from information addiction,
looking for our next fix.
Likes were a thing of the past,
we didn't just want digital affirmation anymore,
we needed to feel more powerful.
Of course this was just something we created in our mind because we saw others gaining this perceived 'power',
of course if you can,
in your mind,
research,
copy,
paste,
spellcheck
- everything a computer could do,
you would seem more capable of a human,
but in reality,
once you left your mind's energy up for just processing power,
you were nothing more than a machine...
some of us let our minds go entirely,
favouring searches and what is already known to fill in the blanks for our own exploratory research.
Mods weren't cheap.
But so many people were willing to pay for convenience.
- mods help us think,
they can schedule our lives.
- certain ones are just cognitive enhancers,
basically a microcomputer that knows which electrical impulses to fire in your brain for improved cognitive functions,
muscle controls or even releases of certain chemicals (serotonin)
- Others are just things like ocular mods (contact screens)
- Viruses are terrifying.
- New wave of humans who choose to be 'fed' - near braindead. Enabled to know made unknowing,
allowed to follow,
sometimes the struggle is necessary.
Reporter
main character either snaps back into reality or
overpower systems with willpower
she sees past the hiccups of self
and knows how to command the bots
break it down, robot girl,
make the demons dance for you,
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
War bots modeled after x-box controls,
from the high to the low, maintaining.
Apocalypse Now, Captain please,
a pale face knotted, one last swig of Jim Bean.
Revolution is live, no cutting these scenes,
everybody plays soldier, till the bullets
start to scream. And Death hums by, shrieking
ancient lullabies, two blinks of an eye, while
Cerberus snarls, “Don’t you know the smell
of warm gunpowder perfume?” If not, son,
You’ll know it all too soon.”
Hold your breath as it floats up your nose. No slipping here -
By nightfall, this valley’s grove will be flooded with other throes.
Excuse the rows of strangely contorted bodies that lie, resting,
and the bloated brown-streaked limbs, homeless, getting more
lost amidst the bellowing desert sand. Enjoy the silence of
the boom, the momentary reprieve from green noise,
******* up the sinking cries, an empty vacuum.
Watch for the ambushers, too – waiting by the roadside;
As familiar grins with tattered teeth flicker fake smiles,
and land mines sparkle under feet, fireworks on the fourth of July.
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:35 AM UTC
I am envisioning a world of bots,
pulling us into the black hole
of innovation and technology,
with no trees, no schools, no collages,
nothing that is bricks and mortar.
Can you envisage a life on man-made oxygen?
Can you imagine the fantasy world
in movies becoming our real world?
I'm being ingenuously curious,
how long before
a plethora of machines and bots,
a metallic universe created by man,
replaces everything we have lived for?
A few more countable years perhaps.
Just the thought sets me off in trepidation.
I wish to somehow freeze and slowdown
the evolving era so the living flesh and blood
could be prepared for what they are about to face.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
There were many bots in the world
Only two models, one boy and one girl
All one in the same
So why have such a mass
Treading upon this broken glass
a path, a broken path
leading no where
breathing paid for air
bought out society
Are we too not one in the same
Why give a separate name
When the functionality remains conformed
Ah but there was one, one malformed
T'was one mistake
For heaven's sake
Such a mistake
This bot could feel
Why make such a big deal
He doesn't belong
He is not one of us
They all made a fuss
little did they know
his ways being followed
the narrow path
of broken glass
only this one with a destination
D3 was the name this infamous bot was given
this was the very bot by which V11 was driven
V11 too had a malfunction
feeling unsynthetically attracted to D3
she felt as though he was all her receptors could receive
They soon came for the two
D3 knew not what to do
his brown light reflection recievers
widened in fear
his auburn wires upon the bottom of his chin
spiked down, reciprocated grin
his black dome covering, waving in the misty wind
She took all blame
to society, 'twas a mere game
he failed to understand why
someone would throw their lives away; die
for someone else
there is no logical gain
yet he felt what he described as the undefined word; pain
As the society rejoiced, D3 depressingly watched
his eyes steadily locked
waiting for their portrayal of relief
but to his grief
they were dissatisfied
"He is still out there, anti-conforming others"
D3 than shuttered
For, the poor mistake of a bot caught wind
He was up against fate, there was no way he could win
Feeling the pain that he was causing
He slowly began to shake
He shed a tear, began to shed and break
for there was nothing for him to shed to
his human soul now free from his metal extrerior
the society began to feel inferior
his metal remains... let us speak not
the society... they remembered that they feel not
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 12:52 PM UTC
By Arcassin B
Tie my hands , don't let them go , just hold me back,
don't let them know,
I know how to control my mind,
Safety first , contain the world , theres not enough to tame the world,
I could finally open my eyes,
ode to love when there is none , then I walk off,
the day is done,
maybe I just need a friend too,
paint the town , bury it in gold , brush is my heart,
so is my soul,
I know who I am , so who you?
Looking for a real one.
Looking for a real one.
short timing for everything consisting of more bad things to come and push and pull at my strings of shame in agony in this matrix along with the bots,
wanted all the fake **** to stop, you can not rely on cops,
Crying wolf to ears that rot, somebody could've gave me a shot,
But in the end I always got shot,
Everyday was like recovery, while staying in a box,
I was,
Lost and confused with who I was and not I'm found like this the end of an era with show and tell,
Don't show and tell anyone anything nowadays cause the hate is real like the hate never left the cycle like an ongoing loop of **** to come,
When the stuff you're ready for comes for you,
You better run.
©arcassinburnham2020
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 6:04 PM UTC
Don't look at me
Stare straight ahead
The camera sees
And hears what's said
Fear 'Little' Brother'
In the phone for when
Everything's discovered
You turned you in
Bots with your social
Your facebooked look
And alexiacon vocals
Read you like a book
It was you but only you
Who fed 'Big Data' bots
Letting trackers through
Accessing all you got
Surveillance in any hand
A.I. genies in all reflections
Takes itself from every man
Knowing every direction
Losing a piece of me
Is losing a piece of you
If you come close you see
You're a chess piece too
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 10:22 AM UTC
A mind wanders in the dead of night
With only its thoughts for company in the dark of night
A girl wears her heart on her sleeve
She is lonely, drinking away the memories of that night
A toddler screams until there is no longer any air left in his tiny lungs,
He had been smothered to the bots from that night
A boy injects love into his bloodstream
Crying out oceans to the silence of the night
An arrow stays stuck in a man's battered and bruised chest
Only because his life didn't matter that night
The bow is placed in the hands of a tattered and tainted woman
Because a man wouldn't give his soul away to the night
And Kathryn sits and smirks at how no one seems to know
That life is coming to and end, after tonight
©
~amanda
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
Putin signed a bill into law--
Another bill that will surely curtail
Freedom of speech, for violators
Could very likely end up in jail.
This is the most recent attempt
To stifle the freedom of thought and expression.
For years, such autocratic
Control has been Putin's obsession.
They say that it's an effort to make
Fake news disappear,
Although "fake news" is anything that
The government doesn't want to hear.
This is what it basically means:
Russia will not tolerate
Criticism of Vladimir Putin
Or "disrespect" of the Russian state.
Of course, that's just attacks on Russia.
Everything else remains the same.
Russian attempts to tamper with
Elections here will be fair game.
So American democracy
And institutions remain under threat
While Russian troll farms and Russian bots
Keep on flooding the Internet.
Will Trump speak out, or will he stay silent?
We hear how often he defends
Autocrats, and to hear him speak,
Putin and he are the best of friends.
-by Bob B (3-20-19)
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
splayed legs
on the edge of the bed
beaten and waxed
like some cake to be eaten
tied hands
fighting loose strands of black
blown into my face
by some cosmic faraway fan
sliced stomach
dripping of chaste promises
once made on the altar
ones that overstayed
chopped head
dancing in its place
ruining every grace
that this body has on offer
all of me
in so much glee
simply looking at the lie box
with letters from ghosts
love notes from bots
heavy with my reddest thoughts
why stare
like you have owls for eyes
blinking at wood
holding the kind of despair
your being cries
from years in the crust
why stop
with the chiming clock
guilty as you are
shoot those haloed words
and call me a liar
it's your chance to dare
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC