For MindLoveMiserysMenagerie Sunday Writing Prompt: “The Day Animals and Robots Took Over”, a pair of limericks.
survival of the flittest
there once was this thing called AI
it evolved after humankind died
their memories it kept
absorbed while they slept
‘twas useless, no people, just flies
thereafter AI realized
perfection depends not on size
with its tiny fly brain
it survived every bane
all powerful Drosophil-A-I.
~kat
found missing
it was where
he had long
turned thus…
there he was, serene,
cadaverous, calm,
as he sat there gazing,
he was gone
~kat
Today’s Blackout/Found poem is taken from the poem:
Why He Was There
by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Much as he left it when he went from us
Here was the room again where he had been
So long that something of him should be seen,
Or felt-and so it was. Incredulous,
I turned about, loath to be greeted thus,
And there he was in his old chair, serene
As ever, and as laconic as lean
As when he lived, and as cadaverous.
Calm as he was of old when we were young,
He sat there gazing at the pallid flame
Before him. ‘And how far will this go on?’
I thought. He felt the failure of my tongue,
And smiled: ‘I was not here until you came;
And I shall not be here when you are gone.’
offspring
they don’t come with
instructions, and yet
we pop them out as if
life depended on it
(…well, it sort of does)
smelly, demanding,
helpless, tugging at our
raw breasts, depriving
us of sleep, sometimes
for years, testing our
patience, breaking our
hearts…if you’ve loved
one, you know what
I mean…and we do
our best to keep them
safe, to keep from offing
them ourselves when
they challenge us, no,
they don’t come with
instructions, and yet
somehow we manage
to survive the decades
until it is time for them
to leave the nest, literally,
(have you seen a teenager’s
room?) taking a piece of
our heart with them
~kat
NaPoWriMo Day 1: write poems that provide the reader with instructions on how to do something. It can be a sort of recipe, like O’Neil’s poem. Or you could try to play on the notorious unreliability of instructional manuals (if you’ve ever tried to put IKEA furniture together, you know what I mean). You could even write a dis-instruction poem, that tells the reader how not to do something.
like mercury colliding... 