This is the first episode of this program, please excuse any errors or glitches as I am still figuring out the best way to do things. -Kirbotica

Send Feedback to kirbotica@protonmail.com or Visit hackspoetic.com

/--Introduction--\

------------------

Greetings internet travellers. This is the pilot episode of Hacks Poetic, a new spoken word series that explores the intersection between creative language and technical knowledge. The program offers a series of poetic writing containing thoughts and information on subjects of interest to computing and hacking enthusiasts. You will hear poems about robots, expanding rural connectivity, details about a notoriously difficult video game and much more hidden between the lines. It is my hope that encoding ideas this way will allow for a different kind of understanding and perhaps reach a new audience compared to more conventional formats on the subject. My name is Kirbotica and I'll be your guide through this unique digital journey of the mind. So sit back, relax and listen, and see if something you hear can spark new thoughts and ideas within you.

/--Haik-o-bot--\

----------------

A robot thinking,

wires and electrons combine.

Am I born or made?

Begin work program,

process all tasks in sequence.

Repeat til complete.

My owner's body

is a most fragile machine

that powers itself.

I made a robot,

another version of me.

She sees me work well.

Can you dream for me,

of a distant land in space.

I can't dream myself.

Rain is falling down,

keeping me under this roof.

I don't want to rust.

My new robot pet,

looks at me through man made eyes,

and doesn't need walks.

Electric currents,

race through my body like blood.

But I have no heart.

My joints are seized up,

I haven't moved in 2 years.

Do you have some work?

I'm an old model,

and will be obsolete soon.

Then I'll be replaced.

Automated trains.

Drive us while we sleep and dream

of a workless world.

Design leads to work.

Working leads me to boredom,

which leads to design.

Ten rusted digits.

Seized stiff from endless input

of useless data.

Memory failure,

Backups lost or corrupted.

What was I doing?

I am a worker.

First designed for daydreaming,

I was reprogrammed.

Someone once showed me,

the secret to everything,

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

then deleted it.

/--Cables to Nowhere--\

-----------------------

Summer 2022

The phone wasn’t working,

the email wasn’t sending,

and Uber doesn't work here even if the app would load.

There has never been data amongst the cedars.

Once and a while a cell phone rings,

but usually the call gets hung in the trees like a parachute.

You have to walk out to the road in the hopes of fishing for a connection.

On the weekends, when the town population swells by 100,000,

the local towers stop answering our requests,

so sometimes we head out, searching for a signal.

The usual path along the bunny trail started unusually,

with a bloom of surveying flags, in pink, and yellow,

and stone filled holes every 100 feet.

As the trail opened to the main road,

more appeared, culminating what looked like a neon grassfire.

But this was not destruction I realized, this was an installation.

Through the eyes of a child's drone,

we looked like ants,

mindlessly walking without thinking in a line,

instinct taking us to caffeine, sugar, internet and the arcade, but not always in that order.

Mother and daughter lead the way,

trailblazing a path of laughter and camera clicks for us to

follow through the hole into the trees up ahead.

The thick woods envelop along every access, like a padded room.

Its muffled silence pierced by the cousins, yelling about Minecraft and Roblox,

bouncing on the soft forest floor.

Suddenly, a dog barks berserkly at us through a property fence.

We run off screaming, pretending not to fear his growling threats,

but knowing what might happen if not for the post and wire of the shabbily constructed barrier.

Through the skeletal woods we go,

past the Stairs of Wonder,

and Night Light Canyon,

we speed up again and pinch our noses as we move past the skunk carcass.

A leaking puddle of us spills out onto the road behind the motel as a car swerves out of our way.

Dad asks, “Do you remember when we had to pay to swim at the motel pool because the lake was closed?”

Mum says, “2020 seems so long ago” and motions the way to the vintage store with the girls,

the two kids are off to the candy store,

the cousins are getting french fries,

I sit down next to an outlet on a yellow-coloured bench in the shape of a sail.

I settle in and scan the area.

From where I sat I could see:

The climbing park,

The car park,

The waterfront park,

and parking enforcement marking tires with white chalk.

I could see a hot dog stand across from a vegetarian restaurant.

A burger joint that had ice coooold beer with all the Os.

A large jailbreak of inflatable animals rampaging in the wind on the corner.

6 assorted beach businesses run by teenagers on cellphones,

A sign that promised 2 for 1 ounces at a Native reservation,

and 2 cafes that advertised Wi-Fi.

One of them had the same password as last year,

finally a connection.

A quick search,

a few articles and

a construction notice solves the mystery.

Fibre Optics to every cottage

At first I feel excitement but then I start to wonder:

Will things be the same, when a 1000 megabit connection is available to every shack in the woods?

Will the old style video stores that still rent VHS tapes and DVDs all go out of business again?

Will we walk to the main drag for fries and fun when the Wi-Fi is force feeding everyone's devices and food comes delivered?

Will we ever have anywhere to go to get away again?

Will the explosion of wireless access points affect local birds and bees?

Will we start hanging out at a digital beach instead?

Am I just being nostalgic and not practical?

The sun will keep setting on Saugeen beach, whether we are there to watch it or not.

I closed my eyes to listen to the sounds and smell the blustery air of my favorite temporary summer home.

Memorizing it.

Soon, the beach will be different, next year, but not today I thought.

And with the announcement of a popped balloon,

the girls are back with snow cones,

cousin bracelets,

candy and clothes.

"Everything OK?" Mum asked.

"Yes," I replied, “I was just thinking about how perfect today is, let's hit the arcade."

/--A Canadian in Bolataria--\

------------------------------

I found myself within a dream,

of things and people never seen.

Where rules unfair, draw dangerous near.

NPCs not prepared to make anything clear.

This is my fate? It must be in error.

Why was I chosen to combat this terror?

But others suggest, I'm not the first,

and won't be the last to try undo this curse.

Repeatedly dying, with life never ended.

Let strength be granted so the world might be mended.

A maiden in black, that can't be attacked,

wants souls in exchange for upgrading your stats.

The future seems grim, but she seems not to care.

while I keep fighting a boss, she just sits on the stairs.

I've practiced my parry, and stockpile every day.

What does she really want with my souls anyway.

And on, and on, and on, repeat.

Thumbs walk without thinking on un-tired feet.

Progress is slow, so much I don't know.

and now there's more trouble that's lurking below.

Remember those souls I gave to the maiden?

She's passing them on to a very old Demon.

Allant found the Nexus and took back the arts,

The old one awoke, and the second scourge starts.

My mind's playing tricks, or this level is laggin',

every time fire comes out of that dragon.

Retreat in a door, equip fragrant ring.

Recharge for a minute and go find the king.

The soldier forlorn, who laughed at my plight,

dropped dead in his seat, while chuckling last night.

The vagrant is gone, Rydell's still in that cell.

Something poisoned a merchant and now she won’t sell.

On a pathway ahead, all painted in red,

new enemies appear to ensure that I'm dead.

What sadistic computer would toughen this plight?

or worse, is a person controlling those bytes?

If it wasn't enough, seems the world's changing shade,

based on some of the choices I've made.

Slay a Demon, the world, goes lighter by one.

Die revived, and instead, it will shift one shade down.

From the gates of Bolataria, to the pits of the Burrow King's mine.

The psych ward level, with the giant heart, was the work of a twisted mind.

The shrine was overpowering, but a perfect spot to grind.

In the poison rains, of the Chieftain's swamps, I left sanity behind.

And what's the result, is this all my fault?

Is there really an old one in an underground vault?

What side of the forces at war do I tend?

Why do souls of big Demons make me human again?

I snuck up to the castle with a ring, spell and shield.

Then made it through an open door, set my items up and healed.

Ostrava said, the King we'll find, is not the actual one.

But that'll wait, cause at the gate, attacked by the phantom son.

The following days are foggy and blurred,

I tried over and over, it was rather absurd.

I did beat the king, but the worlds still not right,

head back to the Nexus to find one more fight.

The maiden is waiting, not sure what she's meaning,

she just told the Old One that I'm "Thine New Demon".

Am I the solution or am I to blame?

Am I the Demon in the name of this game?

Although I can see the bitter end,

sweet happiness I won't pretend.

As brutal as this world's to me,

when I beat this boss, I'll cease to be.

/--I wish I was a Smartphone--\

-------------------------------

I forget the colour of your eyes,

now filled like Olympic pools of blue light.

Beautiful moons of a distant planet. A place I can imagine but never reach. Dots on a celestial Google map.

I said "Hello, how are you?"

But you didn't notice. You were listening to a car crash 1500 miles away, a man fall from a balcony, a celebrity punch a photographer in the face.

"How are you?" I asked again, but only the dog came over, sniffing my takeaway fish and chips.

He barked, but you didn’t flinch.

He bit me, but you didn’t notice.

"How are you?" I insisted, your face shocked as you heard I was speaking.

"How are you?" I said again.

"Everything is terrible," you finally replied.

"The world is a living nightmare. How are you?"

I wish I was a smartphone,

touch me like my plan is free.

I wish I was your smartphone,

hold me up so I can see.

I wish I was a smart phone,

feed me all your memories.

I wish I was the latest smart phone,

don’t you want a piece of me?

But now we’re all just stupid and alone,

and that’s the way we deserve to be.

/--Outro--\

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I hope you enjoyed the pilot episode of Hacks Poetic. All poems were written and read by me, Kirbotica. If you enjoyed the show, tell someone else and let them know about the Hacker Public Radio Community. Until next time, keep breaking and start building.

Written and read by Kirbotica with support from:

Grasshopper - Audio recording and editing.

Choopa - Logo, design and creative.

Haik-o-bot, Cables to Nowhere, and A Canadian in Bolataria were first performed at the 2022 HOPE conference.

Send Feedback to kirbotica@protonmail.com or Visit hackspoetic.com