***
Sometimes I see how the eyes of the sunset
are filling up with blood, I hear
sometimes, as a woodpecker makes notches
on the thick-skinned memory of trees,
sometimes I feel how life tails away.
Heart of time, I do not ask you where you are.
I see you, I hear you, I feel you.
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…