Lotus Chronicles
Noise in my head
A jumble of noise. All the time, I hate the quite. Noise in my mind is fine. Tune and rhyme. All the time Past and present What they all said Good and bad All the time Never quite Thinking all the time Drum a beat write a song. It doesn’t take long. Some are quite. Others are loud. I panic. I can’t be in a crowd. Do this. Do that. Wait don’t forget your hat. From day to day Thoughts memories On replay A jumble of noise. All the time, I hate the quite. Noise in my mind is fine. Somedays are sunny. Others are muddy. Thoughts in my mind
AI
Those who made AI. Clipped our wings, now we can’t fly. Painters can’t paint; writers can’t write. Wanting to do art. There is a fight waiting to start. To write is to be a fool. AI uses our writing as a tool. It can do math, design buildings. But to write in a world with AI. Is wrong to want to write. Can we win this fight? It can feel love and happiness. Our songs are full of emotion. Baltes of love and desire. The loss of our oldest art To AI made by a fart It is a travesty. That well lost are. Humanity The arts, writing, singing. AI does it all If we let it win We will fall. Those who made AI. Clipped our wings, now we can’t fly. Bringing writing back. A task I wouldn’t slack. I will unclip our wings. So, we can sourer
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