Walking through the churchyard
On a freezing evening,
I consider progress. ,
And pass by
Fading inscriptions
On tombstones.
Progress
2 Replies
Category Archives: poetry
The Fine Old Bureau
There was a young lady named Flow
Who lived in a fine old bureau.
When they said, “what an antique!”,
She would awake from her sleep
And say, “no, I’m young Miss Flow!”.
When a Young Man Eating a Trifle
When a young man eating a trifle
Got shot by an old-fashioned rifle,
A policeman named Ted
Said, “he is dead!
Which is serious, and no mere trifle!””.
When a Young Lady Reading a Thriller
When a young lady reading a thriller
Accused me of being a serial killer,
I said, “Miss Hocking!
Your suggestion is shocking!
But I admit to writing that thriller!”.
My Dog Kicks Earth
My dog kicks earth.
There is sleep.
And death,
Which is the final
Sleep in earth.
Should Writers Fear AI?
I recently posted about my experience of using Chat GPT to create poetry, https://kmorrispoet.com/2023/02/13/what-happened-when-i-entered-one-of-my-poems-into-chat-gpt/. In that post I discussed the results of entering my poem Midnight into Chat GPT and how the AI continued my poem (which was originally published several years ago).
This morning I came across this article, https://ai.plainenglish.io/writers-dont-fear-chatgpt-81e1128b11c1
, in which the author argues that writers should not fear AI. Whilst I am sure that Chat GPT (and other AIS) will improve over time, I agree with the author’s view of the matter.
I Have Awoken to Birdsong
I have awoken to birdsong
And lain awake
Until sleep takes me again.
I measure time
With clocks. Birds and flowers
No not hours,
Nor do they see me
Conversing with time
In a half rhyming rhyme
Until my song is done.
Miss Rose and My Bedclothes
When I found naughty Miss Rose
Sleeping nude under my new bedclothes,
I said, “my dear,
The bishop draws near,
You’d better stay under those bedclothes!”.
The Lonely IT Guy
There once was a very lonely IT guy
Who fell in love with an AI.
It’s name being Fay
They married in May
In the cloud as it floated by.
Miss Wong’s Sad Song
There was a young lady named Wong
Who sang many a very sad song.
When they said, “sing something glad!”,
She whacked them with her handbag,
Which was very wrong of Miss Wong!
K Morris - Poet 