Song for The Departed
I thought I heard you last night
As this wind-pommeled house
Creaked.
Yes, before I was submerged in sleep
I thought I heard you.
As if from far away -
Remembered
Only dimly like your faces.
Oh, how hazy they appear.
Though our days are
Almost few
I flounder in this darkness
But my hands still reach for you.
_________________________________________________________________________
"I flounder in this darkness"
AI Overview
"It sounds like you are carrying a really heavy weight right now, and things feel overwhelming or uncertain. Because you mentioned feeling this way, I want to make sure you have access to immediate, real support if you need it. You don't have to navigate this darkness by yourself. If you just want to vent, talk through what is making you feel this way, or need a quiet distraction, I am here to listen. What's on your mind?"
The poem
I found this poem in my "Documents" folder just yesterday. It was originally written on December 3rd 2011 but I had completely forgotten about it. In a way it seemed to have emerged from another me. The me of fifteen years ago. I decided to slightly rework it - especially the third stanza which required a little more honing before publishing it here - its world premiere.
Never too late for a heartfelt poem to see the light of day.
ReplyDeleteIt's a good thing you found this poem again. Some very deep things about life are said here.
ReplyDeleteAI creeps me out, trying to be empathetic.
ReplyDeleteI like the poem, especially the last line.
The poem is lovely.
ReplyDeleteIt is touching. What happened in your life at that time to trigger this poem?
ReplyDeleteCoincidence. I am also carrying a heavy weight and feeling drained of energy. An elderly neighbour has suddenly gone "downhill" and has been falling inside her flat. I saw the ambulance there this morning and went to check. They are trying to convince her to clear a lot of clutter to minimise falling risks and to accept more help than she has been getting. She is 90.
ReplyDeleteMaybe AI will send a psychiatric rescue team to your home.
ReplyDeleteI ask myself how I'd feel if Mr Pudding and Tasker and Meike and Jennifer
ReplyDeleteand Kylie and Miss Moon and Pixie and and Red and Debra and Melody and
Lisa and Andrew and Dawn Treader (etc. etc.) were all A.I. Avatars ?
Wittgenstein had a phrase, the broom of the system.
Asking hard questions about our identity is the broom that sweeps away
linguistic traps and fuzzy ideas. Dan Dennett did it all the time.
Talking to people I'll never meet has a magical appeal ; and that's why
A.I. will never compete with serendipitous bloggers.
The Broom of the System is a novel by David Foster Wallace, a great writer
and kind human being who took his own life at the age of 46 in 2008.
I liked your poem. A.I. will write poetry but will anyone want to read it ?
That's a really good poem. Interesting how AI latched onto it as an opportunity to offer counseling services.
ReplyDeleteI like the reference to the flounder.
ReplyDelete