***
Folds near the lips, as if dried
tributaries, that once fell
at the mouth of a large river.
A trap of embalmed wrinkles
in the mausoleum of your face.
Eyes, sentinels on guard
of unfulfilled hopes, and cheeks,
once looked like hills
and now – like the gullies.
And here is the forehead with the ones moved
tectonic fissures,
that resemble the dams — after all
you cannot cross the wade of life.
A face is like a place, like an uninhabited island,
lived in happy seclusion
under the supervision of tired time.
AI’s Reflection on the New Poem by O. Korotko Link to the poem “Let’s Split…
* * * Let’s split in half — the window’s light, the cluttered past we…
*** The land of wheat fields, the edge of the plains, children, sing — but…
When we first asked ChatGPT to read and interpret a poem by Oleksandr Korotko, the…
*** Time became a lump in the throat, a tower, a skyscraper that grows and…
Modern tools open new horizons for dialogue with poetry. We decided to run an experiment…