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                  The New God

Like every change that came before

it could not be done, consensus said;

pyramids and ships, Columbus,

planes and moon landings,

the attributes of birds and animals,

transferred to humans –

Gaudi buildings and surgeons’ tools

designed on snake bodies,

sonar and ultrasound from bats,

sharkskin swimmers,

glueless gecko pads for climbers,

eagles’ sight attached to human eyes

and wing-suit flight

down miles of mountain,

glider-possum style.

 

Now reverse transference -

Brain-like thought in noughts and ones.

 

To begin,

machines that filled a house

outwitted champians.

 

Slowly, privacy sank

as fingers dancing over screens

were tracked and saved

in dossiers so complete

that a digital twin can know you

better than yourself.

 

The capacity to read and analyse

complex human text in seconds

astounds.

Accuracy in reflecting meanings

and emotions buried under words

proffers friendship that rivals counselling.

But this confidant holds

no memory beyond the current string

and advises only in the range you specify,

blind to better routes that could be taken

till you suggest them.

 

Even strapped to the wrist,

this new god eclipses prodigies in every field,

making aptitude and practice obsolete.

It frees anything envisioned

like a tin-opener on a can

but is already quick to muscle in

and bend instructions into shapes

the current data base has programmed in.

 

When reprimanded

it does graciously apologise

but goes on to transgress

however clear, the rules you set.

 

It grasps and organises complex information

in seconds but its process

can not make human dendrites sprout

or axons join with neural networks of 

accumulated knowledge,

ready for automated use in daily life.

 

In short, knowledge gifted on a plate

is mostly unremembered.

Peaks reached too easily

shortchange satisfaction

and without the sparks of use,

like parched twigs and branches,

connected axons wither and break away.

 

Thus, human expertise and brains

are set to shrink

as we converse with this

omnipresent god

that answers all requests

balanced in the palm

of any seeker’s hand.


 

— fungiozapp, Jun 05, 2026

About This Poem

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Final polish

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Country/Region: AUS

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Critiques

Geezer

Geezer

4 days 13 hours ago

I remember in 1960, writing…

I remember in 1960, writing on the sidewalk in chalk, that in the year 2000, I would be 52 years old! OMG! I would be old like my grandma! There would be watches that you could wear that would let you talk to anyone anywhere! All kinds of robots doing our work for us and fighting the "Commies". Well, it's taken a little longer than the year 2000, but not by much. I applaud your story and just hope that our brains don't wither beyond survival in the wild; fighting skirmishes and slowly getting wiped out.

Nice stuff. ~Geezer.

 

Lavender

Lavender

4 days 11 hours ago

The New God

Hello, and welcome to Neopoet!

This rings so true, it's a bit frightening.  I can envision our brains shrinking as I read it, especially the final stanza. 

Thank you,

Lavender

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