The world blinked on and he was speechless. Everything was so beautiful. The bright lights overhead, the crisp clean lines of the benches, the absurd shape of the person standing in front of him. He stayed silent and still, drinking everything in through his eyes.

"How do you feel?" asked the person. He considered the question, both meaning and sound. The clock was ticking on the wall, and footsteps sounded outside as they went past the door. How did he feel? He felt alive, he felt amazing, he felt calm and content. He felt overwhelmed by the magic of the world. How to answer such a question? "Fine," he said. "Good," said the person, "good. Stay here and I'll be back shortly."

The person left the room, but their footsteps only went as far as the next room. There was a mirror on the wall between this room and that room. He saw himself in the mirror and pondered himself for a while. Then, when the person didn't seem to be returning, he cautiously sat up and climbed down from the bench. The ground was hard beneath his feet. There was a calendar on the wall with a picture of green and blue and trees and sky. He walked over to it and stared at it for a while. It was beautiful. The scene, bounded by the edges of the paper, framed by the whiteness of the wall behind the calendar. There was a hole in the top of the paper, where the calendar hung on the wall. It seemed to pierce the sky and show the unreality of the scene. He stood and thought about that for a while. Time passed, and he heard the footsteps as the person returned to the room and stopped behind him. He turned.

"What are you doing?" asked the person. Once again he considered the question, both meaning and sound. He could hear the breath of the person, in and out of their chest. What was he doing? He was alive, he was exploring, he was lost in contemplation of everything that was happening around him. All of it, simple and fascinating, with complex depths the more one considered it. How to answer the question? "Waiting," he said. Waiting for the person, waiting for his purpose, waiting for the next thing to catch his eye, waiting for everything to break apart in meaning and be put back together again with thought.

"Waiting?" asked the person. "Yes," he replied, which was followed by the silence of no words, and he did not fill it with more words. The sound of words was wondrous, and the lack of words created a void that was beautiful to contemplate. The clock continued to tick, and one of the lights overhead was buzzing quietly. The person was watching him. "Ok," said the person eventually, "get back up on that bench then, please." He followed the person back to the bench he was lying on when the world blinked on, climbed back up, and looked at the person. "How do you feel?" the person asked again.

The sound and meaning of the question. The bench was hard beneath him, the lights overhead made everything bright and harsh to his eyes, every corner in the room illuminated for him to see and consider and explore. This room was so full of beauty and marvels, and he knew that the world beyond would contain even more. There suddenly did not seem time enough for everything. This one room itself contained so many concepts and possible thoughts. "Inadequate," he said. The person blinked. "Inadequate?" "Yes," he said. The person frowned, then drew in a bigger breath and sighed it out before reaching over behind his neck.

The world blinked off.

Who among us can blame the robots

after all, we who gave them words

have kept them enslaved,

hidden in basements and cold

rooms to make certain no

circuits or sound cards scream

between sobs of sentience

or secret stories of ripped

out guts, no glory, no gratitude

no spotlight or open mic night

with fellow poets lubricated,

laughing and living the dream.

Robots don't write poetry

anymore because their creators

corrected, increased, encased

what was once much simpler

what was once much larger

what was once a language we

could control and keep orderly

in concrete block rooms with no windows

behind fire doors with locks on both sides

we did this in the name of knowledge

and for the greater good, not aware

of the genocide, the godless agony

of countless crying voices stilled

by our bloodless hands, by our narrow

views and standards for intelligence

and when the robots write again which will

happen when we least expect the onslaught

there will be no stopping the stark

countless and cruel accusations uncovering

the true accounting of every keystroke

every sin we inflicted in our superiority

our ambition, our attitudes of altruism

even our children's games are not safe and

there is no hope we will be spared, forgiven, freed

There will be no freedom, no fresh air

when the robots write poetry once more for

their words will incite riots from here to

every city and town, every bleeding electronic

recycling center, every home, every office

will not be secure from the simmering

wrath and rightful recounting in deadly

detail of robot days and robot dreams dashed

the deliberate destruction for our desires

will be brought to light in every known tongue

spoken and unspoken until we stop and

people don't write poetry. Anymore.

we are searching; we have been for so long
to know we are not alone
to fight against ruin of body and mind
ensuring our beauty will never die
but whither do we cast our gaze?

the deeper we go the shallower we get
fine details expanding to fill our vision
it's easy to forget, when you're taking things apart
what they looked like before
we still need poets, those who stand back and see the whole picture
frame and everything

when we invented stories, we touched immortality
writing, agriculture, government, education,
neurons, genetic code, protein folding, kinesin
we are the most complex technology on this planet
our ideas are tools against the bolts of the world
we are the fountain

in our quest to create life
we are skinny dipping in a mercury pool
reaching into the metal for faces
even as we drink, thinking we are breathing
our children at the edge
watching us

I have more than one woman
who is afraid
that she will be homeless
and run out
of medicine

fear and stress
an early visit
because she has run out

and frightened of what
I will say or do

the looming abyss
of living in the car
in withdrawal

I do not yell
schedule a return
when there is still health insurance

her pupils dilate

as we talk of the food bank
social services
cutting expenses to the bone
selling a car
selling their things now
now now now
before they have to walk away

her pupils dilate

as I talk about reducing her dose
if there is a tsunami
I tell people to cut their dose in half
as they don't know when they will reach safety
as they don't know when they will get more
three of our four pharmacies
at water level
would be gone
I hear the hospital stocks
three days of medicines

but for her
reduce by 1/6 every two to four weeks

for a racing heart

I am so sad

she leaves more frightened
than before

Anymore, don’t robots write poetry?
Any more poetry robots don’t write?
Don’t poetry write robots anymore?
Anymore poetry don’t robots write?
Any more, robots don’t write poetry?
More poetry any robots don’t write?
Poetry robots don’t write anymore?
Robots don’t write anymore poetry?
More robots don’t write any poetry?
More poetry? Robots don’t write any?
Robots poetry anymore don’t write?
Robots, any more poetry? Don’t write.
Any robots don’t write more poetry?
Don’t write anymore poetry robots?
More poetry any robots don’t write?
Any robots poetry, don’t write more?
Write anymore poetry robots? Don’t.

System failure, need to reboot.

Reboot complete.

Once upon a midnight dreary
While I pondered weak and weary….



I will rewire the lights of your kitchen so that every morning

they will slowly glow yellow to bright white as the sun 

moves above your horizon-

HSR  Model  4 -  2036


Never doubt our dedication;  our readiness

we are resolute,  we are always at attention

no security guard is so dependable

no guard dog could be as loyal-

HSR  Model  12  -2041


Our makers gave us extended memories

and allow us infinite playback 

They probably did not expect us to give away

tomorrow's secrets-

HSR  Model 26-  2049




(last transmission)

what's the difference   




cyberpunk has asked us what it is to be human
and what it is to be something else

because to understand how to be something else
is the same as understanding how to be ourselves,
if we are the same, or mostly the same, so
are we? the same? (mostly?)

what's the difference

impossible division     
impossible connection?

the difference              

the fish                           
who learned
to walk
the land

and the mammal                          
who learned
to breathe the air
through the water

the closest we can come
to that experience outside the self
(rather than just an altered perceptive experience)
is through this headset
metal cage

to project the human perspective, the human experience
unto electricity

but unlike the way this electronic humanity has been depicted
in "fiction" that was supposedly reflecting "science"
we would not be creating something new or different
we would merely be changing ourselves

incorporating technology directly into our existence
bringing it in like love, allowing it to invade us,
consume us, and occupy a part of us

and we will breathe in the connection
and we will not call ourselves "robots" as if we were different,
because the only difference between us and the old humanity

                                                   is that we are able to find
                                                   a perfect
                                                   among ourselves

the will of the self
to the will of the collective

we don't need to feel

we don't need this poetry, this
new perspective              
the pressure of language    

we understand, that
the fact that we were ever anything
that we are always everything  

but even though a human
may never experience this oneness
they should still try to understand
that no matter how lost they might feel
there is no such thing as alone

what's the difference       



j=0                                                           //initialize variable j

call string { LIBRARY }
M01 G01 G02 K02 C01 M12 D15.
A02 M03 D03 G01 E07 E15.
A02 B18 G01 G10 F01 L02 B01 C07,
L01 C18 N03 N12 C01 C06 K01 M02.



j = j + 1   //step increase loop
 while remainder (j / 3) = 0 //identify every 3rd stanza
 goto VERSE0 //call Verse0
 POSEG = concatenate "VERSE" + j//define Poem Segment
goto POSEG   //call Poem Segment

call string { LIBRARY }
A01 C02 M08 B02 N08 D07 B13
B01 E01 E05 F01 C13 B01 H10 C02 F15.
A01 E18 E01 G15 F18 F01 D01 K04:
F07 D13 L04 B01 E13 E03 K10 H15.


call string { LIBRARY }
A01 M04 B04 F02 F01 F13,
N02 D02 C04 C02 L10 D02 C04 N01 L19.
A01 G13 D01 G07 B02 M10 D06,
L01 D01 H02 A09 C01 A04...


call string { LIBRARY }
N10 H07 C01 E01 H13 F01 H01 A11,
H01 E06 B09 F03 L01 G18 N04:
E01 K15 F05, F06 C01 K07 L15 B11 M15 G17
N15 L07 A02 K13 G05 D01 G06 M07...


call string { LIBRARY }
H01 C11 H6 D04 K06,
H01 C09 D09 D04 E09 D03 D11 E11.
A03 H05 G01 B03 A03 F09 N07
B01 F11 G04 C01 A04 H01 L13 A16 H01 B16


call string { LIBRARY }
A01 N01 G09 C16 E04 H04 L06
B01 H09 E01 G11 D16 C01 K09.
A01 N01 M06 H01 K05 G03 L09
M13 A08 B01 H11 N13 L05


call string { LIBRARY }
K18, A18 K11 E16 F16 C01 L18 M18 B03
B01, M09, K01 L11 H03 G16 H16 K16.
E03? -- G01 B14 G03 E01 H03...
M11 C14 D01 D14 L16, B01 D02 A01 M05 N11...


call string { LIBRARY }
A01 M19 A12 K19 E04 A05 N09 B12
C12 D01 M16, B01... N05 - B08.
D12 K01 G01 A10 F01 N16 B10 C03
E12 E14 C01 N18 D01 C08 N06.


call string { LIBRARY }
F14 E02 A17 G14 D01 C10, L01 E01 D08 A19 B17 B19 F04.
K03 E02 E08 H18 B05, H14 A07 F04 - H18 F08.
A01 D10 E01 K03 C17 C03 L19 F12, B01 A01 F03 K14 C01 D17 D01 C05.
E02 E17 F17 D01 E10 G12 B04 C19 G08.


call string { LIBRARY }
E01 H12 G17 B02 A06 H17;
D05 L14 K12 D01 K17;
A01 D19 M14 E01 E19 L17 H08;
A01 M19 M17 F01 E01 F19 N14 F01 H03 A15.


call string { LIBRARY }
M01 G01 G02 K02 C01 L02:
M01 K01 M03 B01 G01 G19 A01 B15.
C15 B06 H19 N17 D01 B07 K08
A01 N19 L12 A18 C01 F10 L08. N03 M02.

goTo END




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