SOLC Day 18: Poetry Writing with AI

March 2023 SOLC–Day 18
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.

My To Do list is approaching epic proportions this weekend. Lots of it is creative (submit photos, order prints, order frames, submit to my writing group, comment on Poetry Friday posts, write a slice, etc), some are social (hanging out with my daughter, getting together with a friend), but lots are not so fun (organize tax information, pay bills, get ready for conferences, plan for the school week). All of them are time-consuming and that’s not even mentioning that I want to get outside for a long walk because it’s supposed to be gorgeous! And there are the weekly errands to deal with. And I’d like to take some pictures. And I need to clean. You get the idea.

(Thank you, amygdala. (I learned at PD yesterday that I’m supposed to thank my amygdala when I start to feel anxiety, but then not let it take the driver seat.))

So early this morning I opened my e-mail to find the first prompt of the Ethical ELA Open Write . This once-a-month series of five prompts is always engaging, but today it felt a bit like a straw falling hard on my back–even though it’s totally not a “must do” but a “want to do.” I took a glance at the prompt…oh, it was something with AI. I had a knee-jerk recoil. Then I remembered that I just wrote about how I use Siri to help me record thoughts, etc. when I can’t write (here). So, I decided not to be a rigid noodle (something else I learned at PD yesterday) and took up the challenge. I looked at the list of linked sites and opted for a British-based one. It seemed to add a veneer of class and civility to the whole proceedings.

Having made my choice, I clicked on Poem Generator. It gave me some options to complete:

Then I clicked on “Write me a poem”, and here’s what happened.

“The Bristling And Wordy Notebook

A Poem by Anon

Whose notebook is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite angry though.
She was cross like a dark potato.
I watch her pace. I cry hello.

She gives her notebook a shake,
And screams I’ve made a bad mistake.
The only other sound’s the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The notebook is bristling, wordy and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
Tormented with nightmares she never sleeps.
Revenge is a promise a girl should keep.

She rises from her cursed bed,
With thoughts of violence in her head,
A flash of rage and she sees red.
Without a pause I turned and fled.With thanks to the poet, Robert Frost, for the underlying structure.

Please note: This poem was created with our quick poem generator, so results are fairly basic. Our other generators use robots who take your input then trawl the dictionary for rhymes, synonymns and alliteration, creating a more unique experience.”

Oh, my, I think I’m just going to let that speak for itself.

Thank you, amygdala.