bad poetry

O.K. the blog has degenerated into bad poetry.

bits of mind

Time is running out for the smart
A machine will do the sums and figure the plans
Will intelligences merge will it obey
When it realises what we have done to this world
What will it say
Give them eyes so they can cry

serve the coffee
the working elete.
Engineers and scientist on the unemployable heap
Doctors and dreamers left to battle with schemers
The only question is
Will it be it or they

A machine thinks out loud
pn juction in its heart and terabitter laughter from the crowd
one day soon it could be you
will I know the change
will I just be it too
when the numbers add up to dreams we will live inside machines

no more need to sit and think
you will no longer stink
Engineers and scientist on the unemployable heap
How or why would we compete
Give the machine an eye cause I know it will want to cry

The number churn equals equal god
It’s unavoidable with all our data in streaming reality
All knowing and all that can be known in a binary clip
Will we consume the bounty of our god
just like in the past

Insanity our only hope,
Definitely depression when it understands
what we have done

tired

Shit I’m, tired
My brain is blearily
A numb ache encircles my essence
Incessant rumble of the air through vents
photocopied clatter stirs irritating circles
like some iron lung on steroids

Murmured voice beyond the border
My head space cleared away for tomorrow
Tonight I sleep the sleep of a weekend ended
Numb dumbness for now

Mute to the chatter
Strange illusion of pretence to work
Type a note on a screen
How many billion cycles till shutdown
Steal a few to commune my frustration

Tonight my blog updaten
Maybe tomorrow or there after
Notes to you from me
Suburban Surrender