poems in progress: a poem michelle mcgrane and feldman the robot are writing together
Most of you are not aware that Michelle McGrane and Feldman the Robot fell in love recently. It was sweet. She was writing poems, and he was bringing her sharpened pencils so she could continue to write without a dull tip. When she fell asleep, he would write for her so the writing work could continue.
Michelle was so moved by Feldy’s gestures that she proposed within hours of meeting him. Below is the start of their nuptial vows. As of yet, the piece is untitled.
They are writing the piece one line at a time, and Michelle will be adding her lines in the comments of the post, then Feldy will pull the lines up into the post itself as he adds his own lines to the piece.
(And you have to bear with Feldy. He’s not a very good poet, as it turns out. He’s got no soul, although he has grown a soul patch in an attempt to be more like a human. And because Michelle likes soul patches.)
* * *
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs
The poet and her robot
hovered down the neon-lined aisle.
She glimmered in silver chiffon
with tin-foil embellishments.
chimes and pings pixellated the air.
Their future bright as an alloy
the dazzled paparazzi agreed.
Worries melted at their feet like antifreeze;
synthesizers played electronic harmony
Even the stars got into the act, square dancing
{Michelle is thinking of the next line … }
I like this! Feldman has a metal soul, but he has something going on. Michelle knows how to bring out the best in all types, I think.
Christine, we’ll see. I figured Feldy would know how to write poems, but every time he sits down he draws a blank. It’s weird. He likes to pontificate. That’s his forte.
Christine, Feldman so has something going on … *heart-shaped eyes*
Dana, as long as he doesn’t pontificate on our wedding night. I am just saying (as you would say)
Michelle, he will do a lot of things on your wedding night, and pontification will not be one of them. Unless you decide you’re into that. He aims to please. He’s a love machine after all.
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prisms after prism gliding over the ceiling
Sorry, that’s supposed to be “prism after prism gliding over the ceiling”:
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs.
The poet and the robot
No:
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs.
The poet and her robot
Feldy, perhaps “hovered” as we seem to be writing in the past tense? What do you think? And a comma after “sun’s light”?
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs
The poet and her robot
hovered down the neon-lined isle.
She glimmered in silver chiffon
See, Michelle? Dana is right. I *am* bad at writing poetry. Thank you for changing my tense, honey.
You’re *not* bad, Tin Man - just a little rusty
I’m very impressed with your word skills.
Wonderful. Well it would be, wouldn’t it? Va va voom.
Feldy, should “isle” perhaps be “aisle”? It could be aisle; I guess I’m just thinking in a conventional wedding sort of way.
Michelle, you have to pardon Feldy. He is still increasing his vocabulary. He downloads new words daily but has a lot left to learn. And when it comes to meaning — something beyond sound and visual — he’s kind of lost most of the time. You are lucky he’s saying anything that even partially makes sense.
Feldy is my pencil sharpening hero.
Michelle, let me get Feldy over here to write his next line. Hold on …
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs
The poet and her robot
hovered down the neon-lined aisle.
She glimmered in silver chiffon
with tin-foil embellishments;
chimes and pings pixellated the air.
Feldy is thinking of the next line …
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs.
The poet and her robot
hovered down the neon-lined aisle.
She glimmered in silver chiffon
with tin-foil embellishments.
Chimes and pings pixellated the air.
Their future bright as an alloy,
the dazzled paparazzi agreed.
Feldy is sharpening my pencil and thinking of the next line.
Feldy, is it okay with you if we change “our” in your last line to “their” as we seem to be writing the poem in third person?
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods
that caught and threw the sun’s light,
prism after prism gliding over the ceiling
like one-dimensional UFOs
The poet and her robot
hovered down the neon-lined aisle.
She glimmered in silver chiffon
with tin-foil embellishments.
Chimes and pings pixellated the air.
Their future bright as an alloy
the dazzled paparazzi agreed.
Worries melted at their feet like antifreeze;
synthesizers played electronic harmony
Michelle, just do whatever with Feldy’s lines. He’s obviously terrible at this.
No he is not, he is the first poetry writing robot in the world.
Michelle, he’s good in bed. I promise. You won’t be disappointed on your wedding night.
Michelle, do you have the next line? Did you write it and Feldy is missing it?
Hey Dana, sorry I haven’t written it yet. I’ve been sick with a chest infection. Am not firing on all cylinders at the moment. Please send Feldy round with chicken soup!
[...] song because my time is all tied up right now working on a nuptial poem with my soon-to-be wife, Michelle McGrane. But I plan to write many, many rap songs in the future, once she and I are happily wed. Robot rap [...]