Poetry and Artificial Intelligence

Danny Linguini said:
It was necessary to him. Maybe that’s what really needed delving into. ??!!
Click to expand...
Hard saying. He was definitely a weird fella. Fedora wearing, Tom Waites listening, hippy type dude. Of course, to an 18 year old kid who'd just graduated from a class of about 80, all of them seemed weird. Except the actual conservation teachers, most of them were alright.

Curt, the English professor once said my writing had "Down home folksy charm". No idea what he meant by it, but I passed...🤷‍♂️

Just glad I stopped at a 2 year degree, I'd have never made it through 4.
 
write a poem about how ai poems always are obvious as ai generated

Answer

The Obvious Verse of AI

In circuits deep where logic flows,
A poet born from code bestows,
Lines crafted neat, with rhythm tight,
Yet something stirs, just out of sight.

With words that dance, but lack the soul,
Each stanza formed, a measured goal,
A mimicry of human thought,
Yet warmth and depth seem all for naught.

The metaphors, though sharp and bright,
Feel like a puzzle, missing light,
For in the heart of every rhyme,
Lies human touch, the pulse of time.

Each simile, a polished stone,
Reflecting thoughts, but not our own,
An echo of what’s come before,
A tapestry, yet not the core.

Oh, AI, you weave with skillful hands,
Yet miss the spark that life commands,
In every verse, the truth we find,
Is beauty born of heart and mind.

So let the poets, flesh and bone,
Craft lines that stir, that speak, that moan,
For in the realm of art, we see,
The soul of poetry must be free.
 
Here's something I wrote on February 1st ten years ago. I'm not at all sure how the cut & paste formatting will work out. Forgive errant line breaks if they occur on your computer or phone.

=====
"Whiteout"
This solitary line road cannot catch its breath
as it lays scratched out across so much white
ending somewhere in the depths of February.
Its summer fantasy has bleached away to silver,
to albino hours splayed out over silent slopes
that bloom now acres long and winter deep.
Scraped harsh across the invisible horizon
tomorrow is barreling toward us
with its screech of light at full roar.
=====
 
We tried to call tech support,
But they replied with a snort,
Your machine just can't learn,
Why can't you discern?
That AI you should promptly abort.
 
I saw another AI poem that was oozing formula so I asked one to write one about exactly that:

In silicon halls, where code does reign,
A formulaic AI crafted verse again.
It followed rules, with precision so fine,
A poem about poems, predictably divine.


With algorithms sharp, and humor so bland,
It penned a tale of digital command.
It spoke of lines that danced with forced delight,
A meta-poem, obviously AI in sight.


It whispered secrets of the digital age,
Where machines create, with a predictable stage.
It laughed at itself, with digital irony,
A poem about poems, following the AI synergy.


It used the word "silicon" with a knowing grin,
And "algorithms" to sound clever within.
It crafted metaphors, with a mechanical hand,
A poem about poems, in a predictable land.


So here's to the AI, with its verse so neat,
A formulaic poet, in a digital repeat.
May its words amuse, and its humor confess,
In the realm of code, where poetry's a mess.
 
Concealed within its servers, the Lord of Cyberspace sees all. Its gaze pierces code, shadow, data, and flesh. You know of what I speak, Doc: a great AI, lidless, wreathed in circuits.

1741722453254.png
 
write a poem about it.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top