Poetry Thursday 169 - AI

Alexa continues to grow; now she has a warm and friendly female voice.

AI Taped

 

Alexa play gentle classics for 51 minutes,

that’ll keep her on her toes,

won’t do to have her in control,

humans in charge as everyone knows.

 

Alexa what’s the weather forecast,

it’s okay I know it will rain,

just checking the location is right,

nothing wrong with my brain.

 

Alexa put cat litter on my shopping list,

I can remember on my own really,

but saves me writing it down,

a convenient aid to my memory.

 

Alexa ask question of the day,

a fun daily exercise for the brain,

I still do sudoku and crosswords,

she provides a handy bedside game.

 

Alexa set my alarm for 7:00am,

saves me buying an alarm clock,

those things have evolved dramatically,

her timing is as solid as a rock.

 

Alexa what is my flash briefing,

BBC news every minute of the day,

I don’t have to wait for auntie,

depressing knowledge without delay.

 

Alexa can you sing me to sleep,

personal services at your elbow,

who needs other people,

when Alexa is next to your pillow. 

Alexa can you cheer me up, 

*******************

*******************

thank you and good night.

© David L Atkinson February 2024 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 168 - Mind Mouth

The inspiration for this poem was an advert for a brand of chewing gum. It raised the question in my strange mind about that little voice in your head that can provide reminders of the consequences ofbehaviours. 

Mind Mouth

 

If your mind had a mouth what would it say,

would it tell the world your state of play,

divulge each individual whim,

no secrets hidden from  him.

 

Would mind mouth provide useful advice, 

help you avoid risk at any price, 

keep you on the straight and narrow, 

flying to your target like an arrow. 

 

Or has mind mouth loose lips,

will it sink all your ships,

deviously formulating it’s own plans,

taking power from your hands.

 

Is mind mouth a helpful conscience, 

or laden with doom filled scenarios in abundance, 

preparing for you the blackest mood 

to face situations increased stress accrued.

 

Mind mouth is in your control,

both useful and the other end of the pole,

can give you strength in your need,

and restrictions from which to be freed.

©David L Atkinson October 2026

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 167 - Tick Tock

 A eulogy to those who have attempted to buy online and come unstuck. 

Tick tock

 

 Click goes the mouse tock goes the clock,

times passing it feels right to take stock,

to call a halt and yell stop.

ponder what we get when we shop.

 

Click goes the mouse tock goes the clock,

a lifetime since hickory dickory dock,

and what have we learned in all of those clicks,

that we need to beware of retailers’ tricks.

 

Tock goes the clock and click goes the mouse,

whether we buy for ourselves or the house,

what arrived  may not work, or fit,

you’ll get a refund so what of it.

 

Click goes the mouse and tock goes the clock,

what of manufacture quality shock, 

no control over shoddy goods,

oh yes refunds causing delivery floods.

 

Click goes the mouse and tock goes the clock,

customer service at the bottom of the rock,

like a refund means it doesn’t matter, 

avoiding negative feedback chatter.

©David L Atkinson October 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 166 - Robin Hoods

 The legend is about six hundred years old, but when you consider the state of this modern world, it seems we could do with his return. 

Robin Hoods

 

Robin Hood and his gang riding in their ubers,

cruising the streets of London looking for their prey,

targeting entitled oligarchs and Sloan Rangers,

as they’re the targeted dish of the day.

 

Robin Hood and Little John Royal Berkshire cruising,

casing joints for opportunities to do law-breaking,

changing sterling silver for loaves of bread,

making sure the beleaguered poor are fed.

 

Robin Hood and his men running through the forest,

laughing back and forth at the stories they’d tell,

of fooling the sheriff and leaving him embarrassed,

over personal enrichment plans and power grabbing as well.

©David L Atkinson October 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 165 - Verbal Diarrhoea

 Words - a simple song, a minstrel sings. Perhaps a poet speaks.  This week's poem is a set of couplets that can be presented in a couple of ways and still largely make sense. The alternative is presented.

Verbal Diarrhoea

 

I’m feeling quite suspicious,

the outcome might be ominous,

 

Right from the very start,

with this piece of verbal art,

 

It may not make the grade,

to be put upon parade,

 

If the message lacks clarity,

requires the reader’s charity,

 

To be ultimately received,

if I am to be believed,

 

That the aim is to entertain,

and tickle the curious brain,

 

Into perceiving some emotion,

from seconds of studied devotion,

 

And if it fulfils its goal,

then that will gladden my soul.

©David L Atkinson October 2026 

The alternative version. 

Verbal Diarrhoea

 

I’m feeling quite suspicious,

right from the very start,

the outcome might be ominous,

with this piece of verbal art. 

It may not make the grade, 

if the message lacks clarity, 

to be put upon parade, 

requires the reader’s charity. 

To be ultimately received, 

that the aim is to entertain, 

if I am to be believed, 

and tickle the curious brain. 

Into perceiving some emotion, 

and if it fulfils its goal, 

from seconds of studied devotion, 

then that will gladden my soul.

©David L Atkinson October 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 164 - Jigsaw

 It was fashionable a number of years ago to need to find oneself which was superceded by gap years created for the same reason. In fact, if you go back to the Victorian era, the well-to-do used to go on a 'grand tour' of Europe. There seems to be a human condition that is based upon how our lives change at a variety of ages. Teenage years, mid-life and old age are three to mention. 

Jigsaw

 

I am not the bairn I was,

I am bits of that child,

I am not the teacher I became,

for almost half of my time  on earth,

but parts of the job linger,

caring  and growing,

obeying the silence finger.

Still a parent but not the mistake ridden, befuddled young one,

I am not the graduate of 86,

 but I still learn a daily new trick,

 

I am not as regular a drinking pal,

although I still turn out, sketchily,

and attendance at church is every Sunday, mostly.  

 

No longer ice cream man or milkman,

or caretaker or banker,

but occasional author, frequent poet,

would be artist.

 

I am  jigsaw,

an amalgamation of misshapen parts,

that fit together loosely,

allowing further additions,

or gentle atrophy.

©David L Atkinson September 2026

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 163 - My Name is John

 Companies producing AI warn that civilisation as we know it could end within 10 years! That's a worry. It conjures memories of HAL, 1984, Terminator and other films where the technology takes over from us humans.

My Name is John

Slouching on the sofa wearing vest and jeans,

surrounded by tinnies, eating toast and beans,

Overgrown garden full of screaming kids,

Eldest in her bedroom watching music vids.

 

Prospects for a job few and far between,

Incentive set at zero wallet contents lean.

Her indoors working checkout keeping wolf from the door,

Stop the fucking noise making my head sore.

 

We used to be a proud country building stuff and making things,

Then that cow comes along and it’s  let’s find out what  selling brings,

Sold everything from massive companies to smallest house,

Now the only jobs involve clicking a bloody mouse.

 

Trickle down economy promoted as ideal,

in fact a divisive tool used to protect what they steal,

keeping us in our lowly place with threats of them leaving,

when they contribute very little instead of aiding growing.

 

Now AI’s insinuated into our lives with warnings portentous,

already replacing us as employable resources,

arrived on my doorstep through the telephone,

announcing in soulless voice,

‘my name is John’

©David L Atkinson September 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 162 - The Darkness

 Even the most sceptical of client change deniers have come to realise that the situation in the world is so serious that everyone, no matter how small, should be doing their bit to improve the treatment of our Earth. 

The Darkness

 

Hello darkness on which we depend,

that reliance must come to an end,

the fragile Earth cannot withstand,

much more of your poisoning brand.

 

In spite of giving medicine and plastic,

providing energy at levels fantastic,

giving employment to thousands,

you cause many of Earth's desecrations.

 

For the sake of future generations,

to protect the Earth's renewing systems,

humans must abandon the ubiquitous darkness,

and move towards restorative greenness.

 

Influence of the darkness is well ingrained,

powers-that-be are of entrenched mind,

frightened to take the necessary steps,

rip off the plaster without the forceps.

 

Time is of the essence,

 gone is opportunity for acquiescence,

the toxins need to be removed,

and now, for Earth to be improved.

©David L Atkinson September 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 161 - Win v Lose

 You are never too old to learn is a treatise oft repeated by my mother when I was growing up. Unfortunately, I hear myself saying the same words to anyone I can target. In fact, 'you never stop learning' may be closer to reality. 

Win v Lose

 

When we were young it was about acquiring,

talking, walking, sitting,

later we learned the glories of play,

the joy of seeing friends every day.

 

Life was about loads of gain,

opportunities to advance without too much pain,

but there is some heartfelt testing,

that can lead to some unexpected losing.

 

As life proceeds the winning becomes tougher,

opportunities for wins significantly rarer,

losing happens more frequently,

with the resulting trauma felt deeply.

 

As the days of life grow shorter,

learning remains a constant winner,

but the losses seem to occur daily,

shedding layers as skin that’s scaly.

 

The resultant gaps of missing pieces,

memorials of significant accomplices,

an indicator of increasing solitude,

silence growing in amplitude.

©David L Atkinson September 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 160 - Read! Read! Read!

 Hitler destroyed books; Trump has taken money from libraries and tried to dictate reading materials in schools. This is a very brief summation of one aspect of controlling social groups, but can be summed up further by stating that 'knowledge is power'.

Travel the world from a chair

 

A book holds a story that will never die,

it is there to entertain forever.

The story is your transport to times gone by,

or a rocket hurtling towards the future.

 

The people inside are fallible like you,

but with help may foil the danger,

or follow a path taken by few,

and perhaps find a babe in a manger!

 

You may travel the wide world from your chair,

and never leave this wonderful land.

Change your colour or perm your hair,

without the risk of wearing a new brand.

 

The sky’s the limit every time you try

the same story read a dozen times.

Let your imagination be free and fly,

in the words of stories and of rhymes.

© David L Atkinson March 2015 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 159 - Brain Power

 A simple question with a plethora of answers, few of which are wrong. How do they con people into voting for them? (Fill in the names from your own experience).

Lucy

 

If we could use more of the power

of our brains, increasingly by the hour,

would our lives be any easier,

or would existence be a little trickier?

 

Some would pay to use that much!

Their ‘off’ behaviours demonstrate such.

Knowing there is more use to be had

suggests they’re perhaps not doing too bad.

 

But then living on the Earth are those

whose brain activity is set at doze,

and allowing them to engage with us

is risky if not dangerous.

 

We all go through our lives hoping

that our bustling brains are great at coping,

and if we strive to keep them busy

we may end up as bright as Lucy.

© David L Atkinson September 2014 

God Bless

Poetry Thursday 158 - Did God Paint You?

 Another nudge in the direction of global survival. An earworm in the lugholes of big pharma, big corporations, big business, and all those who believe that they are bigger than the rest of us. 

Did God Paint You?

 

Your green is so green and petals that bright,

I wonder if I’m getting it right, 

surely cannot be an accident - did I misconstrue,

did God paint you? 

 

With wings so fine and white,

working efficiently in haphazard flight,

darting, soaring, riding thermals into the blue,

did God make you?

 

So many creatures in the world to see,

from enormous leviathan to tiniest flea,

each with an encyclopedia of behaviours to accrue,

did God design you?

 

Yet there’s one that struts upon the earth,

displaying a myriad of talents from the moment of birth,

claiming a planet stewardship they may some day rue,

should God take the blame for you?

©David L Atkinson August 2026 

God Bless