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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.
Ander Nov 2014
Remove a book from a library and it stands still the same.
Remove another and one more, and onwards in this way.
How long can you continue, for how many days,
Before no library is before you, and the concept starts to fray?

Now take the man before you, what he is is made through change.
What is it within him that makes past and future the same?
The body has continued, though clearly grown and aged.
Who he is now is content, your idea of him a frame.

His mind is still his own, though it has turned the page.
"Cogito ergo sum" the old Cartesian phrase.
How he thought before can be said as but a phase
And how he thinks is who he is. The man stood here has changed.

But still there's keen resemblance that you're clearly keen to hold.
Is he the same man young, as he'll be when he is old?
A little poem based on the philosophical question of what makes a person the same person across the different stages of their life.
Ander Feb 2014
Walking through rivers in the middle of the street
The deepest of puddles to soak my feet
Pornographic windows with strange girls inside
Naked young women with nothing to hide

A trip to the zoo in the sun and the rain
Rolling up numbers again and again
With time on our side and nothing to lose
The wind in our sails adventure we choose

Psychotropic games to contort my mind
We can't understand them but they're still so kind
Stairs like a mountain so many to climb
We've been here so long for such a short time
A little poem about my trip to Amsterdam with a few friends.
Ander Oct 2013
The constant pursuit to find new means,
By which I can escape reality,
Has fast become my only fruitful endeavour.
Ander Aug 2013
I want excitement.
I want something new.
I want to take mescaline at Machu Pichu.

I want to travel.
I want to escape.
I just need to breathe air for experience sake.
Ander Aug 2013
A still image of swirling clouds,
Having been morphed across a canvas sky by delicate paint brush strokes,
Highlighted orange by the last whispers of sun,
As they struggle to maintain the soft blue of this vast expanse of beauty.
This poem is linked to 'Anticipation of a Sunrise', another poem I wrote.
Ander Aug 2013
As I wait for the sunrise,
I wait for a shimmering blue sea.
I'll see a beautiful golden sun
And I believe it will set me free.

— The End —