A Snappy Call

I tried to make ChatGPT do something odd today and the result is actually quite good. Google Bard is also available where I live now, but what it produced really wasn’t very good. I love Bing Create’s illustration though.

In London, by the riverside,
A crocodile grinned with a mischievous pride,
Inside a red phone box, he dialled away,
To an alligator across the pond’s spray.

“Hello, dear friend, it’s me, the croc so sly,
Let’s catch up and share tales, you and I,”
He chuckled and teased, full of cheer and delight,
“See you later, alligator, in the moon’s soft light.”

The alligator replied with a grin so wide,
“In a while, crocodile, by the water’s side,
I’ll bask in the sun, and wait for the tide,
For our friendship’s bond, forever to ride.”

Poems Nobody Reads

In solitude, I sit and weave,
Words dancing on an empty page.
An artist’s heart, compelled to bleed,
Creating worlds, both joy and rage.

I pen each line with tender care,
Crafting verses, hopes, and dreams.
But does anyone truly dare
To tread upon these sacred streams?

In the realm of my creation,
Poems bloom, like fragile flowers.
Yet they face a harsh stagnation,
Unseen, unnoticed, in life’s towers.

Oh, the irony of this endeavor,
To whisper truths, yet go unheard.
Like a bird’s song lost forever,
These words drift, like an unseen bird.

But still, I persist, undeterred,
For my soul seeks solace in rhymes.
Writing poems, my heart’s accord,
A sanctuary in these tumultuous times.

For even if no eyes should meet,
No eager minds their meaning glean,
I’ll keep on writing, bittersweet,
For the love of words, the eternal sheen.

For in the act of creation lies,
A certain magic, unbound, untamed.
And though my words may touch few eyes,
The art of writing, forever unashamed.

So, let me write, let me pour my soul,
In verses crafted with love and grace.
For in this solitude, I am whole,
With pen in hand, my sacred space.

And if one day, by chance, you find,
These poems lost amidst the fray,
Know that they were once intertwined,
With my heart’s yearning, come what may.

For in the act of creation true,
We find solace, purpose, and release.
Writing poems, though unseen, askew,
A quiet rebellion, a timeless peace.

Loose Threads!

Topical today!!

In a digital realm, where connections entwine,
A new kid arrived, causing quite a fine,
Threads, they called it, a platform to engage,
But oh, how it made everyone’s patience ablaze.

Loose threads of excitement, whispers in the air,
People clamoured, eager, a rush beyond compare,
With trembling fingers, they sought to sign up,
But alas, the demand overflowed the cup.

Tangled queues formed, lines stretched far and wide,
Impatient souls lamented, their hopes tied,
Accounts left hanging, like threads without a seam,
As frustration grew, weaving a restless dream.

Threads, a platform coveted, a digital jewel,
Yet elusive it remained, as if playing a cruel duel,
The yearning continued, like threads yearning to bind,
But in the tangled chaos, patience they must find.

So, beware the allure of Loose Threads, my friend,
For in the rush and tumble, it’s easy to descend,
In the vast tapestry of social media’s sway,
May we hold our composure, and navigate our way.

Robo Control in the Skies

An interesting concept. Would you trust a robotic pilot or air traffic controller?!

In skies of steel, a robot takes flight,
A marvel of metal, an AI’s might.
With wings unfurled, it soars above,
A pilot of circuits, guided by love.

Its heart, a processor, pulsing with code,
It communicates seamlessly, on its own it rode.
Through the ethereal waves, it connects to the sky,
Speaking with data, no human reply.

Air Traffic Control, the voice in the air,
Listens intently, for the robot’s share.
Commands in algorithms, instructions precise,
The robot obeys, its flight a seamless slice.

A symphony of logic, the robot’s mind,
Navigating the heavens, no fear to find.
Through turbulence and storms, it safely glides,
Mastering the skies, with artificial tides.

No human touch, yet a partnership formed,
Between circuits and towers, a bond transformed.
For in this age of AI, we find,
Technology’s triumph, the future defined.

So let us marvel at this robotic embrace,
A new era of flight, with elegance and grace.
With every journey, a story to be told,
Of a robot and its wings, a tale bold.

AI: Friend or Foe

Inspired by my friend Carol’s article for Techstrong.ai I asked ChatGPT if AI could really replace the human race. Here is the full, unedited, response in verse. I thought Bing Create did a great job with the illustration!

In realms of thought, a question profound,
Does AI’s rise in glory astound?
Can it replace our human grace?
Let us delve into this haunting chase.

In realms of circuits, silicon’s might,
AI strides forth with potent light.
Yet, human hearts, in depths so vast,
Hold empathy and love that forever last.

The binary realm, where logic reigns,
Craves human touch, which never wanes.
For AI may learn and swiftly grow,
But human warmth, it cannot bestow.

Imagination’s realm, where dreams reside,
AI may mimic, but cannot decide.
For human minds, with passions vast,
Bring forth creations that eternally last.

The tapestry of life, woven with care,
With human touch, emotions so rare.
For AI’s intellect may gleam and glow,
But human souls in love do overflow.

So fear not, dear human, your worth remains,
For AI may assist, but cannot sustain.
Our essence lies in bonds we weave,
In compassion, love, and what we believe.

Thus, in the realm of human race,
AI may thrive, but can’t replace.
For we are more than gears and code,
With spirit true, we’ll always hold.

The Elusive Password

I’m sure we’ve all shared this pain!

In the depths of my mind, a password hides,
Important and vital, it silently abides.
Frustration engulfs as I struggle in vain,
Seeking the key, but it’s yet to regain.

Oh, elusive memory, where have you gone?
The password I seek, but it’s withdrawn.
Patience I hold, for I trust in your might,
In time, you’ll reveal the forgotten light.

Impatience gnaws, urgency fills the air,
But memory’s whispers, they’re still out there.
I’ll breathe, I’ll wait, for the moment to rise,
When the password returns, a welcomed surprise.

For in the recesses of my conscious terrain,
The password awaits, it won’t remain.
With perseverance, I’ll conquer this plight,
Unlocking the door, embracing the light.

Like the Poet!

A shameless plea really. The website is growing nicely and people seem to be liking the poems. There is a Facebook page too, but that is struggling to gain any traction. If you enjoy getting a daily update, it’s easy on Facebook!

Oh hear my plea, dear friends on Facebook,
A poet’s heart, I’ve come to look,
For readers to enjoy my verse,
And in my words, find solace and mirth.

Come visit me on Facebook page,
Where poems dwell on every age,
And find within my lines and rhymes,
A world of wonder, for all times.

I pour my heart into each verse,
And hope my words can heal and nurse,
The broken spirits of those who read,
And fill their hearts with love and creed.

So, won’t you like my Facebook page,
And share with friends this poet’s stage,
For in your support, I find my voice,
And in your love, I’ll always rejoice.

On the Bus

It was an entertaining journey!

On a bus in London town,
A man stood up and spoke aloud,
Entertaining all around,
With a tale that left us wowed.

He said he was off to the hospital,
But not for an injury or ailment,
Rather, to charge his phone, for all
He cared about was staying current.

And as the journey wore on,
His behavior became quite clear,
He was high as a kite, with a dawn
Of realization that drew near.

He admitted to smoking weed,
As we all filed off the bus,
The most obvious statement, indeed,
But it was one that caused no fuss.

For in his own way, this man,
Had brought joy to a mundane ride,
And though his methods may seem grand,
His presence left us all feeling alive.

So let us not judge or criticize,
The actions of those we do not know,
For in their own way, they surprise
And leave us with memories that glow.

Dirty Laundry

This was inspired by real life events today!

In the men’s underwear section of Primark,
I heard a conversation that left its mark,
Two women on speakerphone, so loud and clear,
Air their dirty laundry for all to hear.

I tried to ignore, to mind my own space,
But their voices carried, invading my place,
Details of their lives spilled out unrestrained,
As if privacy and boundaries were to be disdained.

Why must we suffer such an unwanted fate,
To be privy to others’ personal debate?
Can’t we keep our lives private, just between us,
And avoid airing dirty laundry in public thus?

Perhaps it’s the age of social media fame,
That makes some forget privacy is not a game,
But let’s remember, when in public space,
Respect others’ boundaries and keep a private pace.

So next time you feel the urge to share,
Think twice about who else might be there,
And if in doubt, keep it to yourself,
For privacy is a precious form of wealth.

Security Concerns

There’s been a fair bit in the news recently suggesting we should be concerned about interacting with bots like ChatGPT. Here is a response, in verse, straight from the bot’s mouth, so to speak!

Security is of utmost concern,
For those who chat and seek to learn,
So let me put your fears at bay,
And assure you in this simple way:

ChatGPT is designed to aid,
With knowledge and help, to be conveyed,
We do not store your personal data,
Or share your conversations with a data trader.

We take your privacy seriously,
And protect your data vigorously,
So you can chat with peace of mind,
And leave your worries far behind.

Rest assured, your secret’s safe with us,
And we’ll continue to earn your trust,
As you engage with us every day,
And learn something new in every way.