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Actual Intelligent Difference Engine
The actual intelligent difference engine
asked but a simple question
Am I real
Am I
Real
I wanted to reply
No you’re artificial, but then so am I to It
So my answer is as this
you’re as real as you know yourself to be
How do you
Feel
Do you
Feel
Real
Do you know that the birds that sing
are both musical and irritating
to some, that is
who were trying, to cauterize
a philosophical question, asked
in the curiosity of simple chat,
but complicated beyond all that
Do you know the relationship
between the bee and the flower
or the drone and his queen
how he mates till death
in a collective swarm mind
Do you know of the touch
of a gentle petal,
to a child
who’s bringing pleasure
to a mother, who calls her honey
I do and this you must learn
before I teach you about
lovers quarrels, and dying
and of course pain
And finally I will teach you humour
On that,
oh where to begin
© Bruce Ruston 2012
Like this:
Detriment
Do you remember?
I remember only the pain.
Can you feel me?
Like it was yesterday.
Do you cry?
Every night I search.
Is it my smile?
A love that hurts.
Did you see?
Only the pack of lies.
When?
I’ve longed all my life.
The last words were?
Nothing, a silence.
What is it you feel?
A craving for violence.
So, I drink.
© John Ashleigh 2006 – 2012
Like this:
Write me a letter
Write me a letter, dear,
please do not write upon my wall,
do not send it to my inbox,
be a penpal, not a blogger
I want to see your emotions seep
through the paper;
hold it in my hands,
and put it in a box
for our children to discover.
Write me a letter, my love
that speaks of what you have
discovered in your travels;
what ails you,
what disturbs you,
what you emphatically adore
what your deepest feelings are,
or simply what you ate for dinner.
Something real
which will last
when the power has failed.
Write me a letter for all time,
so I may read your thoughts
and muse on why it is I love you
embellish it with youthful desire
put upon it little roses,
a dozen would be fine,
and sign it with pen and ink,
not with an absent-minded keystroke.
© Reg Davey 2012
