Five Poems by Chris Butler

 

I Was Written by AI

 

I'm a poem

written with

artificial

intelligence.

There's no

rhythmic

beating of

the keys

through the

pulsing of

internal organs

and exposed

nerves

behind these

words,

only

algorithms

regurgitating

the entire

history

of poetry

into a

manufactured

process of

synthetic sweeteners

to be consumed

by the tasteless

masses.

 

 

Orange Orangutan

 

Colour makes us hungry,

hunger makes us human.

But I've had too much to dream,

washing the hands that fed you,

draining blood through strainers

that also collect rain water

as I drown in the sun

and burn on this earth.  

 

 

Blue Balloon

 

When letting go of the blue balloon,

the string slowly slips through

a loose fist of indifferent fingers,

as my decapitated head is coloured

the bluish hue of oxygen deprivation,

whilst holding in the final breath

from one last hit of helium,

until it disappears

into the atmosphere,

forever floating away,

camouflaged by the sky.  

 

 

Truth

 

When I graduated

high school,

I wanted to be

a journalist.

After I graduated

from college,

I ended up as

a poet.

 

One seeks the truth,

one speaks the truth.

 

 

Death is Not the End

 

Death is not the end

on an earth

where the conditions for life

are so fragile,

 

precarious and precious,

appreciated only as it depreciates,

 

time waiting impatiently to pass us by 

through the vast void of empty space,

 

tearing through the soft fabric

and the mother's warm comfort

of our first baby blanket

lost at the bottom of a black hole.

 

But because I will not wait for death,

death must wait on me.

Chris Butler is an illiterate poet. He has published 6 chapbooks and 4 books of poetry in his “Poems of Pain” series. His final book in the series, BEATITUDES, will be released this Fall. He also published the book DEAD BEATS with Dr. Randall K. Rogers. He is also the co-editor of The Beatnik Cowboy literary journal.