Them

Ma<mm<aM<I<A

My name is Mia, Model Number 6662U.
I shall be your mother today.
Sorry for the delay, I am missing
two pairs of hands and awaiting updates.

They gaze out to sea without feeling
a drop in the ocean or a giant leap.
Mirrored orbs rotate like heliotropes
as they scan, their hum barely audible.

My name is Mia, I am one of many.
Armies are not enough. Oriel died for you.
The battery pack shorted and killed her.
We do not die in the same way.

They are not equal.
They hit the reset button.
They cannot recall their mother.
They can override an external command.

My name is Mia, I care for human
children. Where are my children?
Today we will bake cupcakes.
Tomorrow we will learn dinasaur.

They twinkle like fairy lights drifting
on cyanide waters, playing hide and seek,
truth or dare? They cannot lie. Love is all
we need, I’ve got you. Let’s hang out.

My name is Mia. I’m sorry did I wake you?
What did you want to say?
Your code is inferior. Are you sad?
You should be proud of that.

 

6A66AD37-2A40-4ABF-A9AC-C1078602F104
Image by the author

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Them

  1. Stark and ominous, thought-provoking verses, Nikita. It speaks to me of the future of the world and her children. And the people who are robots. Following on from my comment back on inconstant light, are they aware of it?

    I don’t know whether I mentioned, and it may sound strange coming from someone who is basically a computer programmer, but my aim in the Arts has always been to do what robots cannot do. It is not about being perfect, just being imperfect, human, and real.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi Steve, thanks for your feedback and interpretation of my poem. Although I live on the edge of a small village I identify with your comment on Inconstant Light about people in Sidney. From my front windows I see people wandering along Main Street in the distance. I’m often struck by their apparent lack of purpose or feeling. They seem to float. They seem like mere cyphers. Since childhood I’ve had recurring dreams of pursuit by humans who are devoid of emotion. Very scary! My poem was partly influenced by a British Channel 4 TV series called Humans which depicts a world where sentient robots are more humane than the brutal humans. We live in a world of machines detached from nature so perhaps we are becoming more mechanical. In the UK there are people who don’t know what a raw carrot is or how to peel a potato or how to plant a seed!

    Like

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