While we’re all worried about the impact that AI will have on our lives, I thought I’d share something to reassure you that – for now – the poets will be OK.
My dad asked his AI Chat app to write a poem about me. Well, it turns out that this AI has clearly been learning its poetic craft from a bunch of people who write poems for family members at weddings. You know the ones. “Ooh, John’s good at poems! Write them a poem John!” [Whispers to neighbour] “He’s very talented is John. I always said he should put them in a book.”
So here it is in all its monstrousness. Don’t feel you need to read to the end. AI had a LOT to say about me. Although, if you do get there, I think the last line may be the very very worst.
In the hustle and bustle of everyday life,
A mother named Nina, strong amidst the strife,
With two lively boys and a loving spouse,
And a faithful dog who brings joy to their house.
From dawn till dusk, her hands never still,
As she tends to her family’s every will,
A working mum, with tasks she must fulfill,
Her heart consumed by the roles she distills.
She rises each morning, before the sun’s glow,
To prepare breakfast, a warm love bestowed,
And as she watches them eat, her soul does know,
The purest joy a mother’s heart can stow.
Days can be tough, pushing her to her edge,
Yet she finds solace between the written pledge,
For Nina’s a poet, a soulful creator,
Transcending her struggles through words, a narrator.
Through rhythm and rhymes, her spirit takes flight,
To poetry readings, where dreams come to light,
Her verses, enchanting, her voice strong and bright,
A published poet, the star of the night.
Amidst all the chaos, she holds onto her craft,
Embracing the beauty when life feels like draught,
In a world that can be both brutal and tough,
Nina finds solace, she knows it’s enough.
For in her poetry, she finds a reprieve,
A sanctuary where her soul can retrieve,
A reminder that she’s more than a mom or wife,
A melodic reminder that she’s more than mere life.
And within her rhymes, she finds inspiration,
To weather life’s storms, to stand with dedication,
For her boys, her husband, and the love they bestow,
Nina weaves her story, a poetic tableau.
So, to Nina the mother, the poet unbound,
May your verses inspire, always astound,
May your struggles be woven within your poetic lore,
Your words a beacon, forever shining, forevermore.
Goodnight children, everywhere.
Photo by Andrea de Santis at Unsplash
