"preprogrammed" poems
"lie still and let it wash over you, the was and is and soon to be.
How frightening yet effervescent the next 24 hours. The lust, and musts of future days revert to the ancient past..."
patty m.
><
the irony!
when I am stilled,
the effervescence of me
unbounded, unleashed, and the torrential rain
of words fulfilling and departing from my interior
I am
a Grand Central Station
of trains labelled
"the was and is and soon to be''
all moving in an unscheduled mayhem,
but never crashing. never accidenting,
only accenting my racing against time,
my oldest and fiercest Super Villian,
and one just knows, never can you beat time,
time, that old rascally up his sleeve card magician,
who when shuffling the deck,
he knows
what was,
what is,
and here his red eyes gleam with satisfaction,
soon to be...
He and I,
old familiar adversaries
addicted to living.
never leave the table,
never leave a *** or
a poem on the felt,
and having always felt,
firm believed,
there will always be one more,
one more gamble, another day,
to write another poem
and turning my cards over
to reveal, to revel,
in my Royal Flush of creativity,
when time, smiling face,
with his
wild card,
**** time,
who trumps me for
it,
in possess of a Five-of-a-Kind(1)
~'
and the new players,
the young poets,
slap me on the back,
saying I had a great run,
but they don't know 'bout my
secret stash,
preprogrammed to appear,
long after these fingers
cease their tangled tango of tap dancing,
my dust,
my lusts and musts
will unstilled yet be
blowing, floating in the
soon to be
so ha!
nml
6:30am
Wed Sep 10
Twenty Twenty Five
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 8:42 AM UTC
I dated two robots yesterdays
Both were programmed to service me well
We did things
In the same
good old
learned order
of doing things
And after sunset
we kissed
at the beach
With one -
our feet touching
With the other -
our view inviting
the rush of salty waves
Alas
Both robots could suddenly
not speak
One even bluffed
he had a virus in throat
AI intelligence?!
jaa ha ha
The other was hanging just with
With variations of
what do you feels
Tell me your fantasy s
‘Don't think
tell me whatever comes first’ s
And
I believe
And
I say
But
Mine is what he can't understand
His’ is
I think a drink on the beach
But unfortunately I don't drink
Using coconut biotica only
These days
Ahhahhaa
...
While they chatted so well!
Without any error of a word to spell!
…
I dated two robots yesterday
That sighed only to say
I can't believe I am holding yous
How much I missed yous
Hugging robots
Vibrating robots
Robots with small mouth and twister tongue
Ready to penetrate into mine at a slightest chance of an opening
A disguised disgust of my sincere failure
not towards the robot but myself
Hiding you still under my palate
from where the soma of your love drips
Now as if forcefully been replaced
to a taste of this preprogrammed chatalike
Have they lost their voice because of my best dress
or maybe the fantasy of the sandy bikini
which they will never see
in the dark wherein
Both hiding their face
But I see
By my loose body parts
Maybe a lookalike
But I ain't no robot
Oh my sandy bikini
Oh Chosen so carefully
To rejuvenate their fantasy
a different pattern for each-
yes. I do take care of that!
Stays now
as an Everly Brothers’ dream
In my mind only
But
My ‘okey ‘ is an ensuring
‘yes yes’ the Indian way
Of course
They did their best
Seriously
Thus
A big CHAPEAU
For the zest
That obviously still can break china hearts
I took it as a test
To get to know me better
Let me be broken through your dream
Let me cry and shake and perceive an angry cloudy color world
let my remains of china burst
I dated two robots yesterdays
while expecting for a man
Thankfully though
these are yesterdays
Today I met a true man
A gypsy
We will date sometime
Play tabla and darbuka
Drink dance and sing
And sleep
To salute the sun
early in the morning
At the beach
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:58 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
"It's a universal urge to pair up." They say.
It's 3 words and
Suddenly files are executing
Auto-running and auto-installing.
When you've been alone,
It's like
Every rancid dream inside of you is
Awakened. Hyper aware & readied
Preprogrammed bugs start to run.
Users in remote locations
Triggered by tracking cookies
Wheel- in backdoor worms
And all I have to do is click
I/O corrupted
Cloudy decisions, decisions
Ads for free cars, free girlfriends
Glittering pop-ups.
"Hot guys in your area!"
But **** is for the lonely
Bait;
A smiling **** Madonna
accompanied by
Beguiling hooks, fly-paper,
You-name-it
Can't tell if I'm in love or in lure.
But I have to go for it.
And that's the point.
"I love you"
[Click]
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
What can you say
to a generation who don't remember
your summer of love.
Who don't see the ribbon in the sky
Stevie wonder,
couldn't see
but saw .
The eventual maturity of a culture
whose built their identity off those brave enough to speak up.
when so many of us have been rendered cowards,
a perceived perception
fulfilling the essence of,
"Throw that *** in the circle!"
For that moment of miniscule acceptance
a belonging without question, we’ved missed since grade school .
“i am Full of myself, full of myself, i am full of myself” ,
as beyonica sells dreams of bootylicious billion dollar unions
nicki minaj and *** implants is the logical evolutionary conclusion
what's going on
no Marvin gaye
we already know
found our idol's.
they comes on
Mondays at 7.
So we don't look for them no more
Their Preprogrammed
Failed by the previous generation
who couldn't seem to find themselves and their patients long enough to lead.
What can you say to a generation
whose music don't speak of waiting in waters, but shaking those waters just enough
to get what you can from EBT
or being just quite enough so you don't have to scream
“I can't breathe”.
A battle between law and survival
and Democrats ain't been no better than Republicans since the 1700's
we’re still holding our breath in waiting..
**** your revolution old *****
it ain't did nothing
but make people believe that I have something that I could never
hold in my hand.
A black president
freedom
and a land
Turn up.
To the slowest change in history,
still waiting for equality on all fronts
this movement was debunked,
like the memories of Americans
30 minutes primetime cycles
What can you say
to a generation
who does the nea nea
where teddy bears and liquor bottles mark the legacy of the deceased
once lay,
such a short memory
these corner they lived and died for a singular belief
money over ******* get rich by all means.
that's our raising the bar
“go for the millions”
and if we play it right
miley cyrus
will twork your way to a grammy.
What can you say
to a generation.
where gay is so gay
no one knows it’s true meaning
we're all just dreaming
make it up as we go
bought into a coma
now trying to wake up.
What can you say
to this generation
except sorry
we left you nothing to hold on too.
but shadows
and hypocritical finger
that rely
“don't as i do “
but
“do as i say”
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
you let him shower you with cheap pearls and fake diamonds.
you get excited like they mean something to you when you’d much rather be given
a book of his or a jar of sand from the beach he used to visit as a child.
something meaningful and true.
not a lame romantics idea of a present.
you want something real from him, just for once so you can say to yourself
and others
that you did not marry a narcissistic robot with preprogrammed methods of love.
but you never complain, not even once.
you just accept his presents with all the love you have and the biggest smile you can manage.
then one day the gifts stop coming.
he no longer drowns you in the beauty of plastic necklaces
and gold-plated rings.
half empty glasses of aged *** are scattered among-st the house
and you wonder why.
but you don’t ask because you figure its nothing to do with you.
missed kisses in the morning showing up late when he had plenty of time to be ready,
shades of lipstick that aren’t yours staining his shirt collars, yet you swear it has
nothing to do with you.
then one day you find him drunk and sweaty, spitting and screaming into the sky
like he’s possessed by a spiteful demon.
he curses the night all in italian,
beautiful
but terrifying at the same time.
you grab onto him only to have him shove you away.
hurt by the gesture you leave him to his woes
and try to forget the night by popping the biggest pill you can find
because having to deal with him then would be worth more
than cheap jewelry and heartache.
numbing sleep finds you.
the next day you finally decide to question him, to find out why he’s been acting
so distant like the last clouds after a torrent rain.
but before you can make a move he’s already made his.
you come home to find his bags packed and stacked high in the driveway.
now you’re asking why, you’re yelling and screaming
and tearing at his shirt, hands bent like claws.
and once more he shoves you away with the utmost disgust
plastered across his usually gentle expression.
you beg one last feeble time for an explanation.
and as he walks away
with no contempt for your well being, no care for your heart
he mutters words that make you coil with self hate and regret,
like a sucker punch to the gut.
as you bore holes into his back with your eyes, he grates
“I miss your Mona Lisa smile.”
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
i look at the sky
tiny dots amongst
nothing
blank space
outer space
the tiny dots appear to flicker
they exist as
only source of light
if the night bears no moon
i see distant heavenly bodies
burning hotter than a thousand campfires
a million matches
they burn blue
red
white
across the void of the galaxy
light traveling billions of miles away
in some predestined way to reach my retinas
i try to process the idea of exactly how much space
space needs to take
i can't comprehend the simple complexity of this universe
nor fathom the vastness of it
working like a preprogrammed machine
it bares little creatures in a water-filled planet
they have their own little worlds
their own little stories
separate from the narration
that keeps together the force of gravity
do not forget
that you were made by the same Being
who made the stars
the same One
Who crafted each gaseous heavenly body
each He knows by name
don't you realise that the fire inside of you
burns hotter than a thousand suns
a billion supernovas
you burn not only red, white, and blue
hues can't quite describe
the brilliance of your mind
i try to process
how much space
it would take for me not to feel your warmth
i can't comprehend your simple complexity
the constallations in your eyes
change every night
because each day
you're a new mystery
for me to fathom
do not forget
that you were made by the same Being
who made the stars
why wouldn't He make someone
just like them
someone who shines brightly
to cut through the darkness
why wouldn't He?
but ah
He already has
don't you ever forget
that He already has
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
When you left us
You left me your laptop
Your laptop was like your life
When you had one
With it you Left me
Poems
Music
Pictures
Your highscores on The preprogrammed games
Secrets
&
Memories
But
They're not you
and you left
and what happens when I've
memorized
all the poems
the pictures
and
The highscores are beat
The secrets are irrelevant
The memories have faded
Along with the Thought of You
and your Future
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC
I hear there is fear in your mind
The deep-seated preprogrammed kind
The kind that has soften slightly over time
From the cursing and calling negros mongrels
To the stereotypical fox news type portrayal
But it is a betrayal of our human nature
The denial of the better evolved brain
It is the maiming of our society
When we regress to the repressive ways
That we sought to overcome in our younger days
Some say things will never change
But the blood to brain-dead barrier can break
The rational can take hold with old and new love
With new scientific studies of all of us
We forgot that the legions are us
The whale beneath the boat
The behemoth that works and votes
The labor force that runs this country
The union of humans striving for a better world
That is us, in every tint, gender, ****** identity
Under each layer of skin there is a piece of me
And behind every strange shadow or reflection of myself
Is someone else different but in all the ways that matter
The same
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
"Things could always be worse"
By that same token,
They could also always be better
"There's always a silver lining"
That being said,
It's amidst an endless dark clutter
"Negativity never helps any"
It's not mentioned,
Positivity presents a similar answer
These responses aren't shallow, they're empty
Can't help but notice
Mindless cliches can not hold water
©2024
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 3:50 PM UTC
White- Eyed Alive-
do or die
piece of the pie
and the American life-
Preprogrammed responses
they all seem to do it-
a previously animated existence
we replicate
but we don't really do it-
The Stepford Wife
and Mr. Right
neither holds an interest for me-
I fit no mold
with no people of my own-
The Wanderer
Vagrant
I Am Alone
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
saturdays smell like
bleach under my nails
sleep in my eyes
scratches on hands
gluey stuck fingers
glare off an empty parking lot
and other people’s
uncomplicated lives
give me enough time
and i can get rid of
any kind of stain
in your coffee cup
but i don’t take the time
to wash out my own
and i can’t get rid of
how i sometimes feel
like less than a person
a second class citizen
or some kind of
preprogrammed robot
just here to assist with
strangers personal quests
i’m not the
swashbuckling hero
out on an adventure
i’m the placid villager who
never moves from behind
the counter night or
day and only ever repeats
the same half dozen lines
wears the same outfit every
time you see them
i don’t want
to be the hero
anymore
all i want is
to live comfortably
in this town
and let my life
unfold
all i want is
to get the dirt out
from my fingernails
and get enough sleep
to love
and be loved
to drink coffee
in the morning
wine at night
and water all day
but i never
want to be the
chosen one
i just want to be
the one who points
you in the right direction
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 3:02 PM UTC
Dilution risk exists for nearly every
Money and asset on this planet now.
Dilution risk happens when a person’s
Share in an asset is decreased due to
The issuance of new shares. This risk
Brings about a huge loss of real value
Therefore
An ideal asset would be one in which
There is no dilution risk possible, ever.
Bitcoin fulfills this unique property of
Money because the supply of bitcoin
Is preprogrammed to 21 million coins.
Bitcoin has zero risk of share dilution
Sep 25, 2024
Sep 25, 2024 at 8:54 AM UTC
i read an article about what happens when one loses a parent suddenly
with no warning
when the person is still a little kid
the girl is predicted to glorify her father
and forget the negatives
she is predicted to fall into depressions and eating disorders
and have low self esteem because there was no man around her as she grew up to tell her she was pretty
i don't know what my dad dying did to me
nature vs nurture is a debate that can never truly be tested
would i still be like this if he was here? is this emptiness just preprogrammed into my mind?
would i still look at girls the wrong way? still be unable to completely trust or give my heart to a boy?
these questions haunt me
they can't be answered
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
I hate being sweet
‘Cause on the inside I am not
It’s like using sweet caramel
To cover something spicy hot
Inside I’m like a furnace
I’ve got an attitude
I wish I could be selfish, idle
Or sometimes even rude
No matter how hard I try
I’m always just too kind
It’s like someone went before my birth
And preprogrammed my mind
If I were angry, sad or scared
You would never know
My emotions are a part of me
That I can never show
I hate being shoved
But either way I let it go
I hate to share my stuff
But I just really can’t say no
Letting people cut in front of me
Though I got there fair-n-square
I just keep quiet and pretend
I was never there
The Bible says I should love
Everyone like I love me
So I guess being nice
Is just a thing that makes me me
I guess that I’ll just **** it up
And go back to being nice
And hope that things are better for me
Later on in life
#5_7/18/2011
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
When you hear the voice of "can't"
Know that it was never really yours
You've been preprogrammed to believe
The doors of opportunity are closed
Remember--
Our language's vocabulary is vast
For every contradiction of "You can't"
There is always an "I can"
© JL Smith
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 11:03 AM UTC
In allowing love
to envelope us
we lose so much.
We become robots
preprogrammed to
procreate and create
another generation.
The veneration of
people who are
only fulfilled
by the ******
they spilled.
There are other
ways to be,
other versions
you can see,
of struggling
to set yourself
free.
But most want
to abdicate
their responsibility
in favor of
the love they savor
that craving addiction
an easy prediction.
Tv and literature,
movies and songs,
got the good stuff
all wrong.
We are more
then halves
of a whole.
We are unique
people who
always have
room to grow.
You have
a million memory doors
to walk through
and gain the lessons
from the things
I never knew
you went through to.
So, please write something
deeper than your cliché
heartache
and romantic fantasies.
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 8:13 AM UTC
Good evening Folks
Please take your seats
Time to dine on the finest delights
We will keep you blinded with the crap you are fed , television , movies with some Hollywood trash
We will **** all your brain cells and lead you astray
you seek a new master and we here to stay
Wipe away that drool ma'am
I AM sure he can pay
*** and violence
The sweetest entrée
We have numbed all your senses
And removed all your thought
We will take over your lifestyles
With these seeds we have sown
Preprogrammed mind patterns
On our monitors will be shown
Our mission is accomplished
When they have no more thoughts
Blind acceptance the special of the day.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
She'll kiss a word, covered in blood,
She'll dignify mediocrities aloud,
She gives me motive to blossom,
Into an entity I've long despised.
She isn't much of a salesman,
Though salesmanship is her passion,
Nearly driving herself to oblivion,
I sedate her with words that are preprogrammed.
Like a *** of water and salt,
A patch of Leather and with a yarned lace,
A cup of oil and a splash of vinegar,
We go together as if it's a curse.
To make sense of it would be senseless,
Since senselessness is it's meaning,
A shadow covering a timid silhouette,
It's passion for construction that seems most logical.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 6:08 AM UTC
Insidious.
The plan
was insidious.
Used
successfully
planet to
planet.
Slowly
taking over.
Slow
subjugation.
The invasion,
in no rush.
Pieces
put in place
on a
global scale.
Predetermined
embryos,
coded.
Coded instructions,
preprogrammed
to activate when
ready.
Embryos placed
around the
globe.
Thousands implanted.
Born
like any other.
Allowed to grow,
mature.
Ensconced in
every aspect,
every element
of society.
When triggered,
no one
knew.
Positions
of power.
Altering
trajectories,
changing
social discourse.
Moving to
a place
where total
control
was achieved.
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 8:51 AM UTC
It's an external fuse that's lit
And ignites the internal hate and abuse
I put up a respectable fight
But at the end of the night
I always wonder, "what's the use?"
Now I have to come up with an excuse
For being me,
For being what you see
But I've run out of preprogrammed lines
Who I really am is already set in everyone's minds
I stand in fresh sand
The oceans tides has taken with it all of the lines
Rendering me lost
Is what I've paid anywhere near the actual cost?
When is it okay to say
Maybe this life is a loss...
©2025
Jun 24, 2025
Jun 24, 2025 at 12:55 AM UTC
*Do not fear death
Fear that you may never truely live
So before you draw you last breath
Focus not on what you get but what you have to give
Life is finite,fleeting
And for all the people meeting
Its mostly vacuous useless bleating
Preprogrammed response and greeting
Longing for a real world moment
Some form of non autonomous atonement
A vital human component
Would you join in as a proponent?
Imagine a social construct
With others who actually care
Imagine we could induct
The righteous and the fair
So before you cash you chips
And fade into the past
Speak kindness from you lips
Leave a legacy that will last*
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 7:23 AM UTC
They Say
"To be a lady of beauty
You must have your
Chin up, shoulders back
Legs Cross, back straight"
What are we their Barbie dolls?
They say we must behave this way
But we are more than a piece in their game.
They say this is the only way to be proper
But what even is proper in today age
"To be a lady of beauty
You must have
Blonde hair, blue eyes, clear skin
You must be
5'8" 130 pounds"
What do they want; no adversity
They say this is what looks best in photos
But we are not just portraits waiting to be drawn
They say this is the perfect body
But everyone is flawed
Nobody meets their standards
"To be a lady of beauty
You must wear
Short shirts and low necks
You must wear
High heels and walk in them well"
What must we be; models 24/7?
They say to wear these clothes
But if we do we are called *****
They say to wear heels
But do they know the pain
That is the price you pay for beauty, they say
"To be a lady of beauty
You must
have perfect bone structure and have no flaws
You must
Always be happy and show no pain."
What do they want; a preprogrammed robot
They say they want 'natural' beauty
But natural isn't good enough for them
They say we must hide our pain
But we just put on a shield
Of waterproof makeup and a fake smile
"To be a lady of beauty"
They say these are our guidelines
But we will never fit them
They say to do these things
But they will never know our pain
They say we are not beautiful
But we know they are wrong
We will not abide and be ladies of beauty
But we will be beautiful ladies.
Mar 21, 2020
Mar 21, 2020 at 8:39 PM UTC
skyscraped skyline quarterwhite
in morning light mourning
the ritual passing of the night,
the city by dreams wound wakes mechanical-like,
preprogrammed as the rising of the sun,
celestially powered
cars trains buses, everyone—
gears turning—
scurry scurry to gets things done.
Oct 12, 2022
Oct 12, 2022 at 6:45 PM UTC
I let the garbage go until I could not stand it. I refused to wash one more pair of socks. I did not wash one dish or glass because something had to stop. I needed to get things in focus. I had to get him to see things my way. So to resolve all of our problems I came up with a training day. I stopped dressing like a lady and acted more like a man. I walked around in sweat pants with holes and kept my hand in my waste band. I let the house and my duties go. I decided why should I care. I made every meal pizza and an ice cold beer. I didn't bother to the change the channel I just preprogrammed the remote control. Now all we see are racing and fishing shows. When I needed to dress up and go out, I just found what ever was on top of pile of close that smelled like an old wet mop. I pulled my hair into a pony tail and slipped on my flip flops. At first he seemed to like it, but then he said it was getting weird. He wasn't sure how he liked me as one of his friends constantly living here. It didn't take long for him to see things my way. Especially when no bills got paid on time, and the took the cable away Suddenly things got better as he came around to my point of view. He now takes out the trash on time and does what I ask him to do. So if you are having problems with a relationship and a man can't see things your way. Just become a reflection of him and give him his own training day.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC