The Poetry Machine

Once upon a day I encountered
a machine capable of the most
exquisite, subtle and profound expression of feeling,

While its cogs and wheels turned
coldly and mutely, with no heart, thought or feeling of their own.

A sign on the machine requested of me:
Insert your heart here”
And so, obediently , cutting out my heart with my pen
I fed it to the poetry machine

Without further ado, it commenced to splutter and choke
It would have made mincemeat of my sorrowful heart
But something terrible stuck in its “throat’

The contraption choked, turning
every hue of purple ,blue and green
‘Twas an apoplectic, sick, depressed machine

It was horrid to watch it suffer so
From indigestion- to think my heart had
Caused such malfunction

After some explosions and splutters
It gave out an agonising groan
Then became gravely silent,

Smoke billowed out everywhere
My jaded poets heart was too much to digest,
Although at least I’d got it off my chest
Alas, I had killed the poetry machine

While I was contemplating composing a Eulogy,
It exploded into vibrant life,
Resurrected with a joyful purr

And Regurgitated to me the story of my life
With brightly speckled rainbow shades of vomit,
Alas, that once had been my heart

Spewing beauty filled sonnets,
rhymes and stanzas of exquisite feeling
with precise and chosen words

It sang to me the story of my life
While it leaked
Tears of joy that formed puddles at my feet

the dog licked them up,and began to dance
finally a machine that understands
but minces words.