Artificial Intelligence – The End Of The World?

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Artificial Intelligence…the end of the world as we know it? Maybe!

I have little intention of using this wonderful invention.

What are my reasons?

I have several:

  • A sense of unease. Could this be used for political gains or social manipulation?
  • I have heard that it is not trustworthy – it makes up what it doesn’t know.
  • I dislike cheating.
  • A fault of mine is resistance to change – often to my own detriment.
  • I fear that Artificial Intelligence will lead to de-evolution of our brains.
  • We will not need to think for ourselves – imagination a thing of the past
  • Our current call for diversity will be lost amidst the fog of standardisation
  • And one huge personal reason! Read on.

Yes, I am a bit of a technophobe…I was happy enough with pen and paper. Then much to my surprise, I began to prefer writing electronically. I admit I was wrong, although my handwriting has suffered.

And yes, lesser forms of AI have existed for decades. But what is exploding into our lives right now is more powerful and invasive than any predecessor.

Oh- and yea- I like science fiction movies! Many of those paint a dark future with “Human versus Machine” wars so perhaps I am pre-programmed to be wary of “the machines”.

Programmed?

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Poetic Texts – How Loving Words Are The Sharpest Sword

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Poetic texts are beautiful heart stopping messages when you receive one from the love of your life. Knowing that each word was chosen with care makes it so much more of a loving message.

We’ve all sent romantic messages which we would not want anyone other than the recipient to see. Private expressions of love and lust. Flirty wordplay. Pleas and promises.

Roses Are Red, Violets Are blue….You Love Me and I Love You

Harmless exchanges between two people.

Harmless?

But when those same poetic texts get released into the public domain, they suddenly seem cheap and embarrassing. Loving words lose their rosy glow and reveal the gaudy plastic beneath once exposed to the glare of ridicule and analysis.

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Waiting For Death ? Let’s talk about it!

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Waiting for death is not polite conversation is it? Well…here I go again…

It can be one of the worst times of anyone’s life – waiting for death.

For the person about to pass, it may be a time of confusion or pain. Perhaps spent in a clinical setting with unfamiliar noises and faces. Too it could be a time of sharp clarity, where life becomes an unfinished story about to end.

For their friends and family, it can also be a time of confusion where thoughts and emotions conflict. Wanting the person to hang on for another hour, another day, brings with it the knowledge that those wishes prolong pain. Conversely, compassionately hoping for a speedy passing opens up feelings of guilt akin to considering murder.

We don’t talk about death…… we don’t talk to the dying

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A Day of Reflection – what poetry is all about

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Our government has announced a day of reflection. Just one day? Reflection is what poetry is all about. Every day. A poem is a comment on an aspect of life.

March 23rd is a National Day of Reflection. Namely a day dedicated to remembering the victims of Covid 19 and the bereaved families. Also, the people who worked throughout the pandemic, battling their own worries about transmitting the virus along with staff shortages and constantly changing working practice.

I was in the front line for much of it – care home management is a difficult balancing act at the best of times. This was the worst of times!!

What will I reflect on?

But what will I take away from the period to reflect on in the years to come? Oh it’s not pretty! You can read a full account on Through-The-Glass, where I post random rants and life comments. I’ll link out to that later. But here is a flavour:

She smiled from behind the mask
Her voice soothed his troubled mind
And brought him out of the living torment of his past
To the comfort of words that were kind
But meant nothing.
And yet – there was something –
A memory, perhaps a mother,
A worried lover,
Someone who cared enough to wait,
To pray that his fate was not to fall,
He met her tired eyes and behind her, the medals proudly hung on the wall
Heroes all.
And yet, a call from a hack
"You all lack compassion - 
It's become a fashion to neglect and abuse,
It's all over the news...do you have anything to say?"
Sir, go away: we've more important things to do
Than to be misquoted by you.
Please tell the world we're decent souls
Underpaid for challenging roles
Who are here when others aren't.
We know the rules, understand they can't.
But we're surely worth some gratitude, not your filthy attitude!,
So please, let us do what we do
We're far too busy to be judged by you!

We did not ask to be heroes! I need to reflect on my anger!

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The Poetic Artist, Abstract Poetry

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The poetic artist? Painting with words? You know the saying “A picture paints a thousand words.”.

It certainly does! After all, one can look at a picture and make up stories about the subject character. A painting can inspire as many ideas as the number of people who see it, for each will have their own interpretation.

Each picture is seen through the eyes of the beholder – and via their artistic opinions and preferences.

I enjoy taking photographs and then writing poems about them…a picture inspiring a thousand words. Well, almost that many.

But this being a poetry blog, let’s ask how many pictures can a poem paint?

I like to say that I paint with words. Each verse conjures up a mental image – particularly if the poem is like an abstract painting. But that mental image is open to so many different interpretations since there are no visual cues.

The mood of the verse, the colour of the poem and its surroundings, the strength of the words, the way they are spoken. It is different each time.

the poetic artist whole life poetry a moon through leaves
A photograph which could influence your interpretation of the mood of the poem

Every writer has a specific character in mind, a feeling, a message they wish to put across. But to make that too obvious is to leave the reader with no choice. In an abstract poem, the finer details are left to the person reading the poem; the poet invites them to join in with the writing. They subsequently become co-creators.

You see, the poetic artist is YOU!

You create the picture via the medium of words.

Want to be convinced?

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