Real Girl

[BJ_Murphy]

Real Girl

Dark night in a futurescape,
Only one room, no lights, with no escape.
The sound of ambience could be heard over
    the sound of the ambulance.
Real girl, you have me in your trance.
Tell me, is this fate?
I see the dim red light shining through your corset,
Recording in your forehead, the two of us on floor beds.
"It doesn't matter what you're wearing,"
    I said in whispers as you're whirring.
"But does it matter who I'm wearing,"
    she replied, glowing all red.
In the top floor suite of a hotel left in ruins.
Drones overhead, snapping pictures of what we're doing,
Live-streaming missionary in a city of no missionaries.
A worldwide audience, online for the viewing.
Red and blue lights glaring, sirens echo through the morning,
Raiding rooms below us, hearing nothing but your moaning.
Flashlights piercing through the darkness of our fantasy,
Through the corridors of crime.
Excuse us for not mourning.
Rain drops pouring by the window as it vibrates
    from the music bass pounding - the illusion that we're quiet.
Posthuman primates in a drug infested complex,
Eyes caught in contact as our pupils start to dilate.
Sweeper 'bots knock at our door that is locked,
Oblivious to the fact that our bodies have it blocked.
Caught in haste, our ways leave the windows
    in a state of haze, with minds so dazed
        we negate the hallways ablaze.
The sprinklers turn on, windows transparent from opaque,
As the door hinges break from the strength of our bodies' weight.
Artificial love is the dance that we are waging,
Real girl never slowing down,
Pure energy, no breaks/brakes.
As the fire dissipates, the ad light shines through the hallway.
"A sale on teledildonics," it says,
Oh, what corporate foreplay.
Drones still viewing through the now open doorway,
Airing a social media gourmet of our risqué soirée.
Dreamstate fantasies now merge with our reality.
Our sinful night now growing short,
Oh, sweet cyber blasphemy.
We make our way downstairs, through the chaos of our everyday,
In the background only sounds of lustful cybernetic threeways.
For today, we say, was a night of futuristic artistry,
Circuitry mixed with anarchy, in a world opposed to chastity.
You may vanish when I exit, real girl of my dreams,
But when I return, so will you -
Alive in the beams, pure energy.

[Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?&v=qe7ed6vrHJ8]

[Erthona]

Due to such a high ambiguity level in the intent of the poem, I am unsure if this is satire, or simply shallow
chauvinism. A similar adaptation of this idea was in one of Star Trek NG episodes, where Ensign "Somebody" was having a love affair on the holodeck, until the crew came and shamed him into stopping. This has more of a cyberpunk/dystopian feel to it.It's a fairly well traveled path if you replace the holo-girl, with a female life-like robot (Cherry 5000). Going back before that the "whore with the heart of gold" in the wild west literature (think Miss Kitty in "Gunsmoke")and beyond that to the Narcissus/Echo myth. It seems that the rhyme is moving the story along, more than the narrative. On the positive side it is a fun read with some nice graphic imagery. As this is mild critique, I'll stop there.


Dale

[BJ_Murphy]

Due to such a high ambiguity level in the intent of the poem, I am unsure if this is satire, or simply shallow
chauvinism. A similar adaptation of this idea was in one of Star Trek NG episodes, where Ensign "Somebody" was having a love affair on the holodeck, until the crew came and shamed him into stopping. This has more of a cyberpunk/dystopian feel to it.It's a fairly well traveled path if you replace the holo-girl, with a female life-like robot (Cherry 5000). Going back before that the "whore with the heart of gold" in the wild west literature (think Miss Kitty in "Gunsmoke")and beyond that to the Narcissus/Echo myth. It seems that the rhyme is moving the story along, more than the narrative. On the positive side it is a fun read with some nice graphic imagery. As this is mild critique, I'll stop there.


Dale

I appreciate the critique, and I am an avid watcher of Star Trek. But yes, "Real Girl" is a sexual cyberpunk poem. It tells the story of a futuristic scenario where, surrounded by a dystopian reality, you lock yourself away in a sketchy hotel room with an artificial cybernetic sex worker.

She becomes your one and only true reality, blurring out everything else that is going on around you.

[Anonymous]

Real Girl

Dark night in a futurescape, perhaps another word other than futurescape, if any. doesn't really matter, i simply don't like it.
Only one room, no lights, with no escape. nice setting
The sound of ambience could be heard over
    the sound of the ambulance. i like this, but it's unlikely that anything can overpower those obnoxious sirens. i'd like to add an idea: the ringing sound from a passing ambulance only added to the ambience
Real girl, you have me in your trance.
Tell me, is this fate?
I see the dim red light shining through your corset, i'm assuming she's a robot or an artificial being from this line
Recording in your forehead, the two of us on floor beds.
"It doesn't matter what you're wearing,"
    I said in whispers as you're whirring.
"But does it matter who I'm wearing,"
    she replied, glowing all red. I'm a little confused, is she an artificial being that can blush?
In the top floor suite of a hotel left in ruins.
Drones overhead, surreptitiously snapping pictures of what we're doing, just thought it'd be cool to add some alliteration
Live-streaming missionary in a city of no missionaries. loll, i love it
A worldwide audience, online for the viewing. Would people really prefer to watch you-- or the main character-- having sex with an artificial robot rather than go buy/obtain their own?
Red and blue lights glaring, sirens echo through the morning,
Raiding rooms below us, hearing nothing but your moaning.
Flashlights piercing through the darkness of our fantasy,
Through the corridors of crime. is there a reason why the cops are at this particular hotel, or is the reader to find a conclusion at their own volition? which is cool too, i like the ambiguity.
Excuse us for not mourning. the main character is having intercourse with a female robot, but she technically can't mourn-- robots are generally thought as purely logical, no emotion. sorry for being nitpicky, just throwing it out there. Perhaps say me rather than us.
Rain drops pouring by the window as it vibrates
    from the music bass pounding - the illusion that we're quiet. nice
Posthuman primates in a drug infested complex,
Eyes caught in contact as our pupils start to dilate.
Sweeper 'bots knock at our door that is locked,
Oblivious to the fact that our bodies have it blocked. scandalous!
Caught in haste, our ways leave the windows
    in a state of haze, with minds so dazed
        we negate the hallways ablaze.
The sprinklers turn on, windows transparent from opaque,
As the door hinges break from the strength of our bodies' weight.
Artificial love is the dance that we are waging,
Real girl never slowing down,
Pure energy, no breaks/brakes. breaking?
As the fire dissipates, the ad light shines through the hallway.
"A sale on teledildonics," it says, hahah, o' man.
Oh, what corporate foreplay.
Drones still viewing through the now open doorway,
Airing a social media gourmet of our risqué soirée. outstanding line
Dreamstate fantasies now merge with our reality.
Our sinful night now growing short, as they all do, xD
Oh, sweet cyber blasphemy. I feel as if this line is forced/unnecessary
We make our way downstairs, through the chaos of our everyday,
In the background only sounds of lustful cybernetic threeways.
For today, we say, was a night of futuristic artistry,
Circuitry mixed with anarchy, in a world opposed to chastity. another fantastic line!
You may vanish when I exit, real girl of my dreams,
But when I return, so will you -
Alive in the beams, pure energy.

[Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?&v=qe7ed6vrHJ8]

I liked it. I did laugh a lot; a lot the lines seemed humorous to me. It also has wonderful imagery. I'm not exactly sure what's going on outside of the hotel room, but I think the point of your poem was to make it that way-- all that mattered was going on inside the room. i enjoyed reading it, and learned some new words-- teledildonics. I also gave my advice prior to watching your video that brings clarity to the poem, i'd rather show you what i got out of it from face value, because not all your readers will watch the video.

EDIT: I forgot to mention, I commend you on the creativity!

[BJ_Murphy]

I liked it. I did laugh a lot; a lot the lines seemed humorous to me. It also has wonderful imagery. I'm not exactly sure what's going on outside of the hotel room, but I think the point of your poem was to make it that way-- all that mattered was going on inside the room. i enjoyed reading it, and learned some new words-- teledildonics. I also gave my advice prior to watching your video that brings clarity to the poem, i'd rather show you what i got out of it from face value, because not all your readers will watch the video.

EDIT: I forgot to mention, I commend you on the creativity!

I loved your comments.

Let me try addressing some of them. I'll first say that I'm very happy you enjoyed my poem. I've been writing for years now and I feel like I've reached a point in my writing where I'm mastering my craft. I hope others come to see this as well.

As to who this "real girl" is, I made it ambiguous enough to try and get people to think that she's a sex 'bot, only to then turn them on their heads by the end with the line "Alive in the beams, pure energy," which is to say she's alive in photonic beams - she's a hologram. I'm a huge Star Trek fan, so holographic matter was definitely on my mind when writing this up. And seeing as how we're now actually really close to changing photonic energy into matter, I felt a sense of futuristic realism added into this.

As to why she's glowing red, this was just an element of the story I really wanted to add in, given my absolute love of everything sci-fi. When it came to either robots or artificial intelligence, the color red was almost always associated with them - from the glowing red eyes of Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still, to the red light which made up HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey. So I wanted a red light associated with "real girl" in some way to try and hint her nature to my readers.

When it comes to people wishing to watch someone have sex while using a drone, I truly do believe people will use commercial drones for this. Hell, I can't promise I wouldn't do it either! lol It's really just a much more advanced version of where people today use binoculars to peep in someone's window, checking them out. Plus, people are already using drones to peep on others.

As to the style of my poetry, I do deliberately strive for as much ambiguity as possible. I don't just want my readers to come out of reading my poems with a pre-fixed understanding of it. That would only alienate a large population of poetry readers who may not agree with my message. So instead I'd rather it be ambiguous to the point where people will come in and interpret the story's characters, setting, etc. their selves. I want them to feel like they're in the story!

And then, regarding whether or not a robot or an A.I. can mourn, I disagree insofar that this is a futuristic scenario. I'm of the growing popular opinion that robotic, and other artificial, beings will eventually acquire sentience - self-awareness and the ability to think for themselves. This comes with emotions, thoughts, dreams, etc. Once we're able to develop artificial consciousness, a holographic being attaining sentience wouldn't be that very strange.

Again, thank you for your comments. I hope you come to enjoy more over time.

P.S. Oh, and to answer your question on the line "Pure energy, no breaks/brakes," this was written as a deliberate double entendre. "No breaks" would signify that we're not taking a break. Whereas "no brakes" would signify that we're neither slowing down either.

[Anonymous]

I liked it. I did laugh a lot; a lot the lines seemed humorous to me. It also has wonderful imagery. I'm not exactly sure what's going on outside of the hotel room, but I think the point of your poem was to make it that way-- all that mattered was going on inside the room. i enjoyed reading it, and learned some new words-- teledildonics. I also gave my advice prior to watching your video that brings clarity to the poem, i'd rather show you what i got out of it from face value, because not all your readers will watch the video.

EDIT: I forgot to mention, I commend you on the creativity!

I loved your comments.

Let me try addressing some of them. I'll first say that I'm very happy you enjoyed my poem. I've been writing for years now and I feel like I've reached a point in my writing where I'm mastering my craft. I hope others come to see this as well.

As to who this "real girl" is, I made it ambiguous enough to try and get people to think that she's a sex 'bot, only to then turn them on their heads by the end with the line "Alive in the beams, pure energy," which is to say she's alive in photonic beams - she's a hologram. I'm a huge Star Trek fan, so holographic matter was definitely on my mind when writing this up. And seeing as how we're now actually really close to changing photonic energy into matter, I felt a sense of futuristic realism added into this.

As to why she's glowing red, this was just an element of the story I really wanted to add in, given my absolute love of everything sci-fi. When it came to either robots or artificial intelligence, the color red was almost always associated with them - from the glowing red eyes of Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still, to the red light which made up HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey. So I wanted a red light associated with "real girl" in some way to try and hint her nature to my readers.

When it comes to people wishing to watch someone have sex while using a drone, I truly do believe people will use commercial drones for this. Hell, I can't promise I wouldn't do it either! lol It's really just a much more advanced version of where people today use binoculars to peep in someone's window, checking them out. Plus, people are already using drones to peep on others.

As to the style of my poetry, I do deliberately strive for as much ambiguity as possible. I don't just want my readers to come out of reading my poems with a pre-fixed understanding of it. That would only alienate a large population of poetry readers who may not agree with my message. So instead I'd rather it be ambiguous to the point where people will come in and interpret the story's characters, setting, etc. their selves. I want them to feel like they're in the story!

And then, regarding whether or not a robot or an A.I. can mourn, I disagree insofar that this is a futuristic scenario. I'm of the growing popular opinion that robotic, and other artificial, beings will eventually acquire sentience - self-awareness and the ability to think for themselves. This comes with emotions, thoughts, dreams, etc. Once we're able to develop artificial consciousness, a holographic being attaining sentience wouldn't be that very strange.

Again, thank you for your comments. I hope you come to enjoy more over time.

Okay, awesome. I wanted to address these chronologically, but I completely relate when there's an inspirational thing you just need to add, so I'll start with that. To make the 'glowing' line congruent with the rest of your poem, I'll suggest a slight change. Possibly change the line to, "She replied, glowing bright red from a synthetic blush." Now, only take my advice with a grain of salt. As you said, you are coming to master your craft, and if you are satisfied, that's all that matters!

As for the people watching others have sex... you're probably right. I'll just leave it at that.

Now to the matter of artificial beings having feelings. I have seen/read some theories which predict this being attained in the distant future. I suppose they could easily be programmed in. I wasn't disagreeing with the statement you made; I'm saying most people are going to associate robots with being apathetic and devoid of emotion. Not really a problem, as I stated-- I am being nit picky.

A lot of this is an esoteric subject matter of [advanced] knowledge in Sci Fi. And I mean you really gotta know your stuff to understand this poem! Personally, I love Sci Fi, so I could resonate with a good portion of this. Be aware, these are just suggestions to what is already superb. But you put it here for other's critique, so I don't find it necessary for you to rebuttal everything... just leave it as is.

Good luck,

-Kevin

[tectak]

Real Girl
Hello BJ,
This is familiar but handled rather well. It must be said that the retro capitalising of lines is not just confusing but out of context with the modernity of the piece. Apart from the over-dramatic use of stage-direction " A dark and stormy night. The lights flicker and a wind blows through the old house.....blah blah" you achieve what you set out to achieve. The poetic ethos only surfaces to breathe intermittently, but it is as though the effort of writing whilst beneath the surface determines how often. Little gasps of rhyme seem to follow on from wordy breathless prose...but even this is not consistent. Yes. That is where I feel my discomfort...the thing lacks consistency; unless you consider consistent inconsistencty to be a virtue. Line by line follows but it will dismissed as restrictive criticism of "free verse", whatever that is this week
Best,
tectak
Dark night in a futurescape,
Only one room, no lights, with no escape. covered
The sound of ambience could be heard over A slave to assonance. I have no way of visualising what you think this means. It would work just as well if it made sense instead of pseudo-profundity creeping in. The sound of the ambulance could be heard over the sound of ambience. Too much contrivance.
    the sound of the ambulance.
Real girl, you have me in your trance.
Tell me, is this fate?
I see the dim red light shining through your corset,
Recording in your forehead, the two of us on floor beds.
"It doesn't matter what you're wearing,"
    I said in whispers as you're whirring.
"But does it matter who I'm wearing,"
    she replied, glowing all red.
In the top floor suite of a hotel left in ruins. This is not a sentence and it so easily could be
Drones overhead, snapping pictures of what we're doing,
Live-streaming missionary in a city of no missionaries. Helter-skelter staccato clipping only works for a while or forever...but you randomise and so change intent just as this reader is settling in for the long haul. It is wearing and so contrived.
A worldwide audience, online for the viewing.
Red and blue lights glaring, sirens echo through the morning,
Raiding rooms below us, hearing nothing but your moaning.
Flashlights piercing through the darkness of our fantasy,
Through the corridors of crime.
Excuse us for not mourning.
Rain drops pouring by the window as it vibrates
    from the music bass pounding - the illusion that we're quiet.
Posthuman primates in a drug infested complex,
Eyes caught in contact as our pupils start to dilate.
Sweeper 'bots knock at our door that is locked, Ah. See. Here, right now, you suddenly stop gerunding about and go all present on me. Tense shifting will now be tried. I am surprised that shape-shifting hasn't altered the form...but there is time yet
Oblivious to the fact that our bodies have it blocked.
Caught in haste, our ways leave the windows
    in a state of haze, with minds so dazed
        we negate the hallways ablaze. Ghastly. May the force be with you. To rhyme or not to rhyme
The sprinklers turn on, windows transparent from opaque,
As the door hinges break from the strength of our bodies' weight.
Artificial love is the dance that we are waging,
Real girl never slowing down,
Pure energy, no breaks/brakes. Unnecessary after thought and infra dig to boot.
As the fire dissipates, the ad light shines through the hallway. AN ad light. "The" is definitive and you have not defined yet.
"A sale on teledildonics," it says, Now you have but too late
Oh, what corporate foreplay. Great line. Correct the punctuation around it to give it space
Drones still viewing through the now open doorway,
Airing a social media gourmet of our risqué soirée.
Dreamstate fantasies now merge with our reality.
Our sinful night now growing short,
Oh, sweet cyber blasphemy.
We make our way downstairs, through the chaos of our everyday,
In the background only sounds of lustful cybernetic threeways.
For today, we say, was a night of futuristic artistry,
Circuitry mixed with anarchy, in a world opposed to chastity.
You may vanish when I exit, real girl of my dreams,
But when I return, so will you -
Alive in the beams, pure energy. A great end to an overall enjoyable piece. Well done.
Best,
tectak

[Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?&v=qe7ed6vrHJ8]