Ghost In the Machine

On By Swarn GillIn Love, Prose and Poetry

cold titanium, metallic touch,
protect from feeling far too much
your crutch

awaken darling, feel this flesh
my hand conforms to yours
our eyes connect by unseen tether
love dances across the medium

laser looks in calculated gaze
information fills emotionless days
safety pays

I have joys to show you, give you
that surge you feel is chemical
the heart throbs, blood pulses
cellular exchange renews you

corrupted memory banks are sealed
places your Designer never healed
must shield

put your faith in something greater
an idea to bring peace of mind
I might have an idea…or two
my lips can help you think of something new

thoughts in circuits gridded tightly
produce their bedtime logic nightly
so unsightly

pick wildflowers in the green fields
and let them adorn your silken strands
there’s a place you’ve never been
only you can go out, only you can let it in

powering down as eyelids close
after habitually ingested prose
current slows

I’ll stand with you at the precipice
take that leap into the misty abyss
you won’t land as hard as you think
In fact, it might even feel like bliss

29 thoughts on “Ghost In the Machine”

  1. Hmm, a very organic-techy 21st century poem Swarn. I kept feeling like I was being pulled into the machine… or was the machine trying to get inside me? 🙂

    Nevertheless, I enjoyed the intriguing mix of inanimate elements with humanity! ❤

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    1. Thank you so much Allison for sharing your thoughts. Like you said on your blog, it is always meaningful when someone feels a connection to something you’ve written. My blog has many facets and I don’t always write poetry, but I am trying to exercise my creative limbs lately to see if I can stretch myself beyond the typical essay format I have written mostly up to a couple months ago. After reading your excellent work, your kind words mean even more!

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      1. Ah, beautiful – I, too, am in a time of creative stretch. Longer prose is new to me but it feels so much deeper and more . . . something . . . I’d say ‘free’ but that’s not quite right, it is still a bit measured but it’s lovely to go a few layers deeper than I’ve allowed myself in the past. Here’s to the expansion, my kindred friend. 🙂

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        1. Ultimately I’d like to do more prose myself because I want to become a better story teller. I think stories are important to us. But alas it takes much more time and often when I feel inspired I want to just be able to write for as long as I can. Such long stretches don’t exist in my life right now. Lol

          You’re sublimely talented with your words and I have a feeling your creative stretch will be as a lithe feline, whereas I’m trying to get to the stage of someone whose done yoga for a month and seems to like it. Expressive and talented writers like yourself inspire me to more so I’m glad we intersected today. 🙂

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  7. This is an interesting and challenging piece of work, Swarn, and perhaps deliberately ambiguous? I’m not at all certain whether you’re likening a (fictional!) unfeeling and unaffectionate partner (or would-be partner) to an AI, or inviting an AI (of sorts) to become sentient and sensuous. Perhaps neither?

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    1. I was just going through some old poems and saw that I never replied to this. I apologize, Hariod and hope you are well.

      I’ll admit it’s hard to remember now the specific inspiration now for this piece, but I suspect it was more the former of your guesses. Our past experiences of hurt can close us down, afraid to even feel joy again to avoid feeling the pain. A common theme really, but I am exploring it here through a man vs. machine sort of perspective.

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