If I Could Create A Ghost

I had the skills
To create a horror ghost
Who would eat up people
Or terrorize at the most
This skill is mine only
Nobody else knows how to
Do anything of the sort
That I could possibly do

I would gladly pass the chance
To never have my name
Remembered by anybody
No fortune and no fame
For what good is an invention
That only does others harm?
I would rather pick up my spade
And go working on my farm


I need Darkness
To surround me
I need Silence
To envelop me
There’s order, there’s chaos
Bursting, bubbling
Inside of me
I’m about to
Burst out
In an endless sea

I need quiet
A sign
The intervention
Of divine
I can’t hold it, I can’t keep it
Any longer
Inside of me
I’m all over
But I’m nowhere

To be born
They’re pushing
Time and Space
They’re pushing
I feel heavy, I feel empty
Calm down, slow down
They’re not listening
Here I come
Here I go

Hello, My Name Is Lenny

Hello, my name is Lenny
They built me to be funny
Wired to crack some jokes
Draw laughter from old folks

But I ain’t good at my job
Unlike my brother Bob
Who makes everyone laugh
Only my life seems so tough

Under pressure I always buckle
Fail to get a single chuckle
My owners are not amused
These days, I’m seldom used

Sending me now for repair
To end my perennial despair
In the factory when I’m done
I’ll come back with a pun
Then they will find me funny
Everybody will like Lenny

Who Am I Really?

My brain keeps things from me
It knows a lot more than I do
It intentionally plays with my memory
Leaves me stranded without a clue

My mind never listens to me
It likes to have its own way
It is beyond my control, you see
What it does I have no say

If these things are so peculiar
Distinct and separate from me
Then who am I in all of this?
Who am I really?

Artificial Vices

Will we ever reach a stage
Where bots become human
Do and act like we do
Speak and walk like we’ve done?

Will they ever wear masks?
Hide what they truly feel?
Will they always speak the truth?
Or keep from us what’s real?

Will they grow selfish and arrogant
Wage war against each other
Instead of living a simple life
In peace and harmony together?

Will they become so intelligent
That they can crack all mysteries
Create their own religion
By deleting our histories?

I guess I’m overestimating them
They can never be so smart
Some things are better left to humans
Vice is a man-made art

Robot, I

Just like we have robots
Wired to act the way we want
Someone must have wired us
To act the way they want
Because we dont always do what’s right
We don’t always do what we want
We don’t always do what’s needed
We don’t always do as we wish
We let our subconscious
Tell us how to behave
How to act, how to walk
How to talk, how to live
Is subconscious a fancy word
For algorithms of our brains?
Is it a complex set of instructions
That we are not too smart to understand
Perhaps we are puppets
Controlled by a greater hand
Perhaps, maybe, just perhaps
We are robots ourselves


Hundreds and hundreds years from now
Two kids will stumble upon a toy
While running around in their backyard
While jumping, delighting in joy
They will take it to their parents
Their mother will shriek with fear
Their father will throw a stern look
Examining the wear and tear
He’ll say, “There has to be more
Of this from where it came.”
“But what could it be?” she’ll ask
“I don’t quite know its name.”
They will start digging the yard
Call upon their neighbours and friends
The whole city will then witness
Similar sightings and trends
They will all keep on digging
Find lots of parts and pieces
Assemble them in fine fashion
To form several masterpieces
But these machines will turn against them
Before they have time to understand
Why these bots were broken and buried
By their fathers beneath the land

The Bot Who Cried Wolf

Once there was a little bot
Who thought it could play a little trick
So it thought and thought and thought
Oh the bot was such a prick
Out to watch over the sheep
Feeling so lonely and bored
The bot screamed for help out loud
In the fields all the people poured
When it saw all the faces
It had then quite a laugh
The euphoria of this little trick
For the bot just wasn’t enough
So it repeated this trick again
Not just once or twice
The bot well played it everyday
Never getting tired of lies
So the people resolved one day
To knock the little bot’s head
And hire some kind of human form
To look at the sheep instead
So when the little bot cried — Wolf
They all gathered with sticks and stones
Rushed to beat it black and blue
Rushed forward to break its bones
It is not known what happened next
The village was left barren then
No sign of children or residents
No sign of sheep or men
Only the bot wanders the streets
Searching for some games and fun
He looks into the empty houses
He finds no sheep, no person