Categories
Poetry

Robot Poems

By Rhys Hughes

BALL BEARINGS

My attitude is very caring
even to metal men
who come in sections.
Yes, I gave directions
to a robot today.
He was far out of his way
because he had
           lost his bearings.



ON MY SHOULDER

There’s a robot on my shoulder
and he’s looking rather older
as the rainy days rust him away.
He’s an electromagnetic parrot
with an expensive taste in claret
who swears like a hasty sailor
on the rolling cobalt sine-waves
of the stormy feedback sea.
When we are both feeling bolder
I will send him to my tailor
for a suit of golden twine,
the risk of corrosion finally over
for that quantum chum of mine.


CLANKING FRANK

Clanking Frank
would like to thank
the technicians
who fixed his inputs
when they stopped working.
An android with
a battery leak
is afraid to speak
and answer the question:
Watt’s the matter
with you?
He will run out of juice
and never run again.
A powercut
is worse than a papercut
to a mechanical man
but Clanking Frank
continues to trundle
through the urban jungles
of the world,
going with the flow
of his own current.

Rhys Hughes has lived in many countries. He graduated as an engineer but currently works as a tutor of mathematics. Since his first book was published in 1995 he has had fifty other books published and his work has been translated into ten languages.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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