When I Attended a Transhumanist Party

When I attended a Transhumanist party

With the cream of the literati,

Some random old guy

Said, “I’m an AI!”.

And cyborgs danced at that party.

The Churchyard Path

People passed

Me on the churchyard path,

That I walk

So oft,

Caught in my passing thoughts,

(Many now forgot)

Then came the rain again

To wash all who pass

Along this fleeting path.

They Talk of All-Powerful AI

They talk of all-powerful AI.

Perhaps this is Sci-Fi.

Or maybe it is true.

But you and I

Will surely die,

Unless we

Achieve immortality,

And perhaps live on

After the body is gone

In virtual reality.

But would that be

You and me?

There Was a Young Man Named Giles

There was a young man named Giles

Who walked around wearing nothing but tiles.

When he fell with a crash,

All the tiles they went smash,

And the girls wore very big smiles …!

Gale the Blackmailer

There was a young lady named Gale

Who made all her money through blackmail.

When she blackmailed Lee

While out at sea

It ended in a large killer whale …

When a Young Lady Known as Hurd

When a young lady known as Hurd

Went and used a very bad word,

A vicar called Hocking

Said, “that is shocking!

But do cover me in lemon curd …”.

Hybrid Poetry and Chat GPT

I have been playing around with Chat GPT, https://openai.com/blog/chatgpt/. Below is a poem wholly composed by the artificial intelligence (AI), followed by my much shorter poem, which draws on that created by the AI.



The Poem as Composed by Chat GPT:


continue this poem: all love and lust ends in dust

All love and lust, like fleeting gusts, May lift us high, but then they must Descend to earth, to join the rust And crumble into grains of dust.

Though passion’s fire may burn so bright, It’s but a spark in endless night, And soon it fades, like dying light, To leave us empty, void of sight.

For all that’s born will surely die, And all that lives must say goodbye. No matter how we try and try, We’re bound to fall, to fade, to lie.

So let us love with open hearts, And let us cherish every part Of those we hold, before we depart And join the cycle, where we start.

For though all love and lust ends in dust, It’s in the moment, in the trust, That we find joy, that we find lust, That we find life, before we’re thrust Into the endless, timeless gust That leaves us naught but grains of dust.


My Rewrite of the Poem:



Though passion’s fire may burn so bright,

It’s but a spark in endless night,

And soon it fades, like dying light,

To leave us lost, to human sight.


For all that’s born will surely die,

And you and I must say goodbye.

No man can the great leveler deny,

And dust must  take both you and I.

A.I. In Writing: ArtSore, A New Website

An opportunity to submit either purely human generated short stories, or AI/human stories. Thanks to Pete for flagging this. Kevin


The founder of Longshot Island has created a new website/magazine to publish work created with the use of A.I., alongside conventional writing. You will be paid for successful submissions, and he is interested to explore this new genre. This is a contentious area indeed, and sure to spark much debate into the future.

Here is what Daniel has to say about ArtSore.

This is pretty exciting, I think. I’ve been lured out of retirement to start a totally new kind of magazine!

AI is pretty controversial in its youth. Just as men and women compete in different events in the Olympics, so people and AI should not be in the same category.

In ArtSore magazine, you let us know when you submit if your work was assisted by AI or was a purely human only effort. Each month we’ll pick one from each category and publish the two wins…

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