K. Morris's Blog, page 72

A Gossipy Young Lady Known as Nell

A gossipy young lady known as Nell

Likes to claim she knows me well.

I remember Miss Jane

With her mean cane,

But I really don’t remember that Nell!

Late Autumn

On a day

In late November

A cold autumn breeze

Rustles through the trees

Seeming to say,

“A freezing December

Is on its way”.

The Future of Poetry in the Age of AI

As those of you who follow my blog will know, I have been experimenting with Google Bard. This morning I asked Bard whether AI poetry will replace human generated poetry and received a response which can be accessed here, https://g.co/bard/share/074f2caef001

 

The final few sentences of the AI generated essay sum up Bard’s response:

 

“Ultimately, the future of poetry will likely be a collaboration between humans and machines. Human poets will continue to bring their unique creativity and emotio...

The Fallen Tree

Do you remember how we

Sat on that fallen tree?

I love the wood

In which  that tree stood.

 

 

All must decay.

Though we had no love

To fade away.

Just my middle-aged lust

And fear of dust

 

 

And your need

To somehow feed.

Now that fallen tree

Reminds me of thee.

My Visit to Gloucester

When a young lady named Miss Foster

Said, “sir, come with me  to Gloucester.

Me and my girlfriend

Want a dirty weekend!”,

It ended with hot coffee in Costa!

What Happened When I Asked Google Bard to Write a Poem in the Style of Poet Kevin Morris?

Continuing my experimentation with Google Bard, I asked the AI to “write a poem in the style of poet Kevin Morris”. For any of my readers who are interested, you can read Bard’s poem here, https://g.co/bard/share/44ce659bcef2

 

I don’t think I need worry about Google Bard plagiarising my work, nor do I believe that any other poets need be concerned, at least for the foreseeable future.

Poetry and Google Bard

Yesterday (18 November), I spent a couple of hours experimenting with Google Bard. During my experimentation, I asked Bard to write a poem about a dissolute old rake. The poem, which had no input from me can be found here, https://g.co/bard/share/b6c44ae0e9c3

 

Whilst I don’t think Google Bard is going to become the next Poet Laureate, it is nonetheless interesting to observe how the artificial intelligence (AI) “composes” poetry.

In the Dark Park

In the dark park

A myriad leaves

Whirl in autumn’s breeze.

And optimists stress

The inevitability of progress.

But these fallen leaves

Do not deceive.

In Harness

As a guide dog owner, I have encountered some rather odd comments and questions. Take, for example, the gentleman who asked me whether my guide dog could read the numbers of buses!

 

However, the incident yesterday evening surely takes the dog biscuit. On my way home, after having enjoyed drinks with friends, a lady at a bus stop said, “I like your dog’s harness”.

 

I am known for my sense of humour which does, on occasions verge on the risqué. However, I bit my tongue, smiled and continued on m...

Home

I never count my steps as I pass

Along the churchyard path.

Though as I have past

By faded old gravestones

And seen the churchyard trees

Bare of summer’s leaves,

I have known all steps lead me home.