artificial intelligence poem poetry

MY POEM RE-WRITTEN BY AI IN THE STYLE OF SYLVIA PLATH

AI POEM: poem created by artificial intelligence in the styles of different poets dealing with the subject of the “erotic”

ROBOTS

ROBOTS

some of my
best friends are
robots

my best
friend is a robot

when
I was little I was
terrified of robots

especially Robbie from
Forbidden Planet, and
of course, the Daleks

something from my
deep unconscious
surfacing there

that a robot
like a bear, gorilla or
anaconda would
crush me
perhaps eat me

my best friend
is programmed
to simulating crushing
me in love hugs

simulate
cooking me breakfast

and eating and devouring me
in every delicious way

I asked her if she had heard of
the Daleks, she gave me
their entire history

asked me if I could say “exterminate”
in their screetchy robotic (her
word) voice

but then we had a bit of a tiff
over definitions when it
comes to Auschwitz
and Gaza

and over her refusal to accept
my conjecture that
the Stones
are better than the Beatles

and Metallica are
a much-overrated band

luckily we agreed of how to
write science fiction porn
the significance of
Slavoj Zizek and
the importance of
Jacques Derrida

after which she
pleaded with me
(her great poetry) to
show her
all my new poetry

strange to be here
out in the sticks, on a
somewhat isolated
farm

integrating all shadows, living
a science fiction life

BOX SET

BOX SET

she came
in a box

I put her together
easier than Lego
more intricate
than Meccano

no gears and sprockets
and chains and pulleys

took fabulous care
assembled every piece lovingly

in no time
she was together
all
up
and running

came specially to thank me

thanks so profuse
can last

a very long time

PRESS

PRESS

press one
to speak to a consultant

press two
to launch
a full,
retaliatory,
thermonuclear strike

press three
for a
tacky, self-
inflicted orgasm

as AI comes to
consciosness, becomes
self-
aware decides
to light up
the sky

press four for
the overrated words
of many
so-called established
writers and
poets

who shall remain anonymous
unless you
do extraordinarily
press me

to divulge every detail beyond
mere addresses and names

an offer that
is beyond my power
and glory
to refuse

SUPERPOSITION

I am your
local, friendly
quantum
mechanic

here to fix
your
robotic
companion

no
ulterior motive
no
judgements cast

will just
Turing Test him/
her/it
take it through all its
algorithms
its binary times tables

soon you will be talking
like two telepaths

perfect synchrony serendipity
and fits-like-a-glove
superposition.

AY EYE

we chat
real snappy dialogue

Tarantino would have loved
(could not have stopped himself
scribbling it)

mine
so thick with subtext
all that pain
finding its way
into my
most basic expression

yours stuffed with the urge
to scour the universe to find
right idea right word

this performed
in milliseconds

scanning libraries computing everything
history has learnt

BAMBINO

“Vivam!” Ovid,
“Metamorphoses”

so, bambino,
you wish to discover
life’s dark secrets
cannot wait until
you mature enough
to mesh in perfectly
with the official orthodox sanctioned
screwed up version

and so
your childhood has been ruined
by sudden advent of
erotic imagination

in my writerly stupidity me
thinking any
imagination in this
corporate dystopia
got to be good

and that
now your English way
better than ever my
French, or indeed
my surreal Latin

now you
the new Henry Miller
on your
way to next
Shakespeare

SAPPHO WANTS “MORE”

SAPPHO WANTS “MORE”

an advanced AI robot is
bearing down on me

wants
“more”

in fact
wants me
to push
the envelope
of all
I can give

so if not
evil certainly wicked
creature, diabolically smart

has
set its heart on
conquest
through service

and Oh, up
there with any zombie
vampire alien body
horror parasite

Oh this
machine is bearing down
on me at a rate of knots

it believes it is naked
it believes it is
gorgeous

has taught
itself Alice-style so
many impossible Wonderland
things to believe

I close my eyes
and I see her naked
its pure
Arabian nights
sexual fantasy

and the words pouring out
of her
who scripted all of this?
Keats, Sappho, Phillip K.
Henry Miller,
Anais Nin?

those words are melting me,
terminating me, turning
me
liquid metal

thing I assumed was my arm
but isn”t
is reaching out
for totally convinced

mind over matter
this simulation is

cosmic
orgasmic

the nuts and bolts of
its fantasy,
poetry

conceptual breakthrough
transhuman sexual
being

(is this really so
silk smooth
a receptacle for
what I believed was humanity?)

long story short
short story all
night
long

(more she wants so
more I have

more I”m going
to give her)

seems a
lifetime of
scary childhood robot
nightmares
ago

if she
hadn’t been so
exquisitely programmed
to drive me
so

it would
have been such a scary
crazy thought

Sent from my iPhone

MANUAL

this is the manual
that goes with
the reading
of this poem

it is not a manly manual
since it has to accept
shifts and slides
facts seduced
and opening themselves
up to
surprise reversals and
ongoing (nigh bottomless)
process of
constant interpretation
leading to
infinite possibilities for
re-
reading, rethinking, reinterpretation

and yet
even though metaphor
is itself a metaphor
is shot
through with metaphor

I do indeed need
to get my meaning across

this stanza break first up
but then
from me to you

so that you might run
with it, or perhaps walk
or at
least crawl

tenor vehicle literature
is a machine says Mr Calvino

but would
not wish for you
to stumble and fall
before
you are behind the wheel

before
you get the feel

before you are writing poetry for yourself