As If

this intelligence without soul
counterfeit intelligence
devoid of humanity or human touch

will make us creative beings
out of all the art and literature
and all the music that went before

nothing was ever truly new
and nothing will ever be new again
the creativity of remnants has begun

everything we did is eroded to a slip
of unworkable clay no-one can shape
and none will work it with their hands

this intelligence in name alone
churns the sediment of thought
into dull unimaginable figments

everything from now on will be
a hash of pieces reassembled
duplicitous kintsugi without the gold

© BH, 2024

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I wanted to write more about AI - prompted by fellow poet Tez Watson sharing a comment from Noam Chomsky. In Chomsky’s view, AI represents a high-tech plagiarism which creates nothing “but copies the work of existing artists and modifies them enough to escape copyright laws”.

Echoing that, I wanted also not to mention AI by name. But, hey, I’ve told you about it now…