There once was a machine
That tried to mimic love
With calculated functions
It deemed adequate enough
Whirring of its systems
Clicking of the gears
It would formulate equations
And then follow and adhere
It thought it would start simple
One plus one is equaled two
But love doesn’t always equate that way
And it had the machine fooled
It searched through the examples
Finding squares and roots
But no matter the equation
There was nothing there to suit
It took much time to process
For years and months went by
And despite all the facts and logics
There was nothing to apply
For the rules and restrictions
Of the mathematic laws
Just couldn’t quite equate to love
And so then Love must be flawed
Yet, constantly critiquing
And adjusting the parameters
To create a rule of love
Through the charge of its capacitors
It’s tasks were never-ending
Always coming into fault
And the power used to process love
Had almost drawn it to a halt
The machine finally found an answer
Against all of its programming
That one plus one is sometimes one
Although not fully understanding
For if one plus one is sometimes one
And one plus one is two
Then when one adds or subtracts
Is that love then overruled?
The machine hummed a while
Searching its libraries
Trying to calculate
The variables and queries
Integers and binary
Booleans and patterns
Calculated logically
Then calculated backwards
It whirled and ticked and spun and flashed
Increasing in its efforts
With so much for it to process
It’s powers had to divert
The machine started to overheat
It started to malfunction
Until finally its process seized
And erred with corruption
Infinite possibilities
And rules yet to exist
That would only just be broken
If love chose to persist
The machine would never mimic love
Not ever coming close
Because love was something far beyond
No equation could denote
-
Author:
Garathe Den (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 25th, 2021 09:43
- Comment from author about the poem: Love is a force that forces us to no longer live for self, it cannot be programmed, there is no 12-step-process to its success. It is a continual and evolving intention, that cannot be mimicked or duplicated, and only finds its existence in authenticity and willed intent.
- Category: Love
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet, L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments2
This is a masterpiece Babel. No mechanical, non-heart beating life form can ever do what love does. Excellently penned Sir.
Thank you for the comment, I truly appreciate it!
'But love doesn’t always equate that way
And it had the machine fooled
It searched through the examples
Finding squares and roots
But no matter the equation
There was nothing there to suit
It took much time to process
For years and months went by
And despite all the facts and logics
There was nothing to apply'..
sadly, stark reality - is often misunderstood
as dreary, self-loathing misery
but, I think more accurately: there's a distinct line
between, those life earned scars
curating our hopeful-nature's: calloused naivety
insuring - our survival, treasures
pragmatism's wisdom
to help us traverse, a less painful path of life;
and those other's, who've - just given up and celebrate
wallowing in that fear stained, puddle
their busily dogpaddling
to stay afloat: in their corner of this chaotic world...!
Sadly, we all - love
like we walk - life:
with vastly differing experiences, insuring
there's no right or wrong, that's so certain
we just, try to cope and accept each other
as best we can, hoping: it will be enough...
(such an engrossing and genuinely unique - concept
and thank you for inspiring
my little scribbled reply, dear poet)
Hey, I appreciate the reply and all of its glory and incite, there is a lot of wisdom and meaning in it. Love is definitely an enigma, and can be almost unrecognizable from one to another.
I am glad that you found this poem a bit interesting, and enjoyed the inspired reply! Thank you.
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