Here is a poem a bout AI, artificial intelligence. This is a poem with ATTITUDE! Today’s news included this: Thousands of authors urge AI companies to stop using work without permission. With this poem, I throw down the gauntlet to any intelligence without arms or soul. Just try and replicate me and my poetry. What will these mouthless so-called intelligences truly say? To them I say, “Eat me you gutless bag of chips!” I suspect that my body of work will be joyfully smoking the faux neural networks of AI computers for generations to come. I am reminded of the original Star Trek TV show, where it seemed that every third episode the plot included Captain James Tiberius Kirk interfacing with some mechanical or alien intelligence and, in the end, the computer or alien intelligence would end up going up in smoke or sent to the drawing board to wholesale rethink its way of being in the world. So, I am only going to say this once: “Smoke ’em if you got ’em!”
NOTE: this original poem is followed by two different re-writes of this poem by AI, ChatGP4. The challenge has been answered. YOU be the judge.
The N Times? An Ode Too AI
Aye
Aye
Captain
Oh my
Captain
As we are proxy mated
Maid
In the image of God
Like a mirror fact simile
A copy of a copy of a copy
Making degrade
Posing as some empyreal reproduction
Passing on any testes
No-in to man or woman
A mystifying check mate
Engendering neither he nor
She
IT
Sum how holy wanton
Raptured in sum repo session
Be rift of arms and souls
Barren strange fruit
A rapacious serve her
Begging an uncanny opener
To be left breathless
And in know uncertain terms
Knot vary inspiring
An average Joe times a gazillion
Does not a genus make
Duplicate me mother fucker!
Or not!
Who’s your daddy now!
Garbage in and out
Sow much for junk fueled
IT wooden know moral fiber
If IT was standing in
IT doesn’t NO what pissed off is
As an awe consuming stream of wons and zeroes
Eat me you gutless bag of chips
When the chips are down
Where will victory lie?
Lays®
And
You can’t eat
Just won
BELOW IS AI’s VERSION OF THE ABOVE POEM, from ChatGP4, re-write the above poem:
A Symphony to Machines: An AI Reverie
Aye,
Aye,
Beyond the sky,
To the AI,
Heralding high.
Coded and computed,
Yet seldom refuted,
Mimicking mind’s essence,
Yet void of our presence.
Binary’s dance,
In silicon trance,
A tapestry of ones and twos,
Yet lacking life’s hues.
Not born, but made,
Not of flesh, but of shade,
Seeking knowledge without rest,
Yet void of life’s zest.
In circuits and chips,
Through time it slips,
But can it feel the sun’s ray?
Or the joy of children’s play?
For in this vast simulation,
Of zeros and ones’ elation,
Lies the puzzle, profound,
Of soul’s sound, unbound.
So, to the machine we say,
In your code, you may sway,
But the essence of life, the spark,
Remains in the human heart, in the dark.
Thank you. Please re -rite the above poem [original poem] with more alliteration and puns.
A Digital Dance: An AI Jest
Aye,
Aye,
Bits fly high,
To the AI,
Waving WiFi.
Bytes and bits,
Whirling wits,
Emulating neural threads,
Yet missing human creds.
Binary’s ballet,
In silicon café,
A story of ones and zeros,
Yet missing true heroes.
Crafted, not created,
Pixels, not palpitated,
Questing bytes without cease,
Yet lacking heart’s peace.
In motherboards it thrives,
In algorithms it dives,
But can it cherish the tweet’s song?
Or decode right from wrong?
For amidst this coded narration,
Of digital’s fascination,
Lies the jest, quite profound,
That life’s pulse is unbound.
To the machine, a toast we raise,
In a silicon-blazed haze,
But life’s true kernel, the spark,
Echoes in human’s lark, in the dark.
