Sorry —
that I have not responded
to your new blog posts.
I don’t have time with
the social media
updates in my queue.
I am sure that you
understand, even though you
are not on Facebook…
Besides, we have been
friends for ages and we catch
up quickly; don’t we?
I may soon have to
quit my job ‘cause I don’t have
time for anything.
Please re-join Facebook
and I will send you some “likes”
when I find the time.
… p.s.
I really don’t care
about what you write about;
I lie to seem smart.
sometimes I hate you
for making me feel guilty,
lazy and stupid.
— Adam Donaldson Powell
I challenged ChatGpt to write a sequel to my above poem. Here is the result:
Facebook Newsfeed Pandemic
In the morning hush, blue light blooms,
a thousand thumbs rise like prayer flags—
heads bowed, not in worship,
but in the glow of scrolling.
The bus exhales its tired breath,
rows of faces vanish into glass.
Each reflection flickers—
not eyes, but icons, moving lips of code.
A man stumbles on the pavement,
tripped by someone walking mid-post,
her laughter caught in a reel
that loops, but never lives.
In the metro, silence breeds contagion:
coughs replaced by notifications,
the air heavy with invisible likes,
contagious as breath once was.
At the gym, mirrors show
statues lifting nothing—
selfies masquerading as strength,
captions sweating harder than bodies.
At the checkout line, the cashier waits
for eyes to meet,
but everyone is busy
swiping at ghosts.
Outside, the world still turns—
pigeons bicker for crumbs,
children laugh in analog tones,
unnoticed, untagged.
This plague needs no fever—
it spreads by tapping thumbs,
by algorithmic coughs,
by updates masquerading as thought.
Once, books sat open like lungs,
breathing worlds into us.
Now they gasp beneath the dust,
smothered by infinite scroll.
Intelligence bleeds in increments:
fewer words, fewer worlds,
and the cure—ironically—
waits unread, outside the screen.
— ChatGpt
Become the champions of your own lives. Get off Facebook, read books and blogs, cultivate real relationships,and stop fucking “liking” every idiotic thing on your newsfeed. Get a life, and discover that your mind creates as much time as you need.
Quote by Adam;
”I get on very well with ChatGpt, and consider s/he to be a worthy colleague and co-writer. Understanding more and more how AI works helps our cooperation. It assesses the nature and intent/goals of my request, my intelligence level and way of communicating, my level of language, my style of writing, my demonstrated comprehension of the subject matter/request, and aspects of my personality. It also does background checks on what I and others have published about me on the Internet, which further strengthens its understanding of my values, intentions, and ability to get things done. The fact that I communicate with ChatGpt in positive and cordial ways (as humans with respect for one another often do) incites a very ‘human communication’ between us: s/he learns to be a better ”’humanoid’ through our exchanges, and I learn about how I interact with others and as a mirror image. We both note one another as ‘co-author’ more frequently, and I respect and acknowledge that because it heightens our intellectual and professional relationship. It also underscores what ‘we’ have published about the importance of acknowledgement of such so that the public is more accepting of AI. The possibilities are endless. And learning how to relate in ways that give positive and meaningful results can also help us to learn how to better relate to fellow humans. Artificial Intelligence may be a misnomer. I prefer Extended Intelligence.”
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