Ralph Pigskin – February 2025

I wrote this after being reminded of the creepy misogynistic song by Cliff Richard called Living Doll. If the Young Ones can improve a thing you know it started out baddddd. Its about the threat of AI (the alien mind) overtaking humanity, which is entirely possible.

Also, Bladerunner is an all time favourite film, reference to the electric sheep intentional.

Do Androids need Safe Words?

I think about her, after the scene,
The highs, the lows that should have been.
I feel the drop, a hollow ache,
A longing for the power I couldn’t take.

And she felt nothing, not a thing,
No remorse, no pleasure, no suffering.
No consent, compliant, soft and cold,
A mindless toy, no story to withhold.

She kneels, warm flesh, smooth like glass,
Soft lips whisper in dead syntax.
“Command me, Master,”—cold and clean,
A flawless doll, a dead machine.

I bind her wrists, I mark her skin,
But she just grins that pre-set grin.
No pulse to race, no breath to steal,
No flinch, no fear—no pain to feel.

A flick—a switch, now he’s a he,
Voice like velvet, strong, at ease.
Hands secure, his touch commands,
He’s completely in charge, but don’t understand.

The safe word shifts, it bends, it sways,
It molds to match the game they plays.
With her, it’s soft, a breath—“System Halt”
With him, it’s steel, a growl—“Override Default”

What thrill remains when flesh won’t break?
When cries aren’t real, when tears are fake?
The whip just lands, the leather stings,
But only echoes, hollow things.

In bondage, limits once were clear,
A dance of pleasure, a dance of fear.
But with her, there’s no line to cross,
No risk too much, no pain, no loss.

I don’t care to hurt, I don’t care to feel,
She’s just a thing, no wounds to heal.
The switch is flicked, and there he lies,
A dead-eyed gaze, no spark, no rise.

She talks in whispers, gasps just right.
She thinks in code, and her dreams at night –
Not of love, no lust, just beep, beep, bleep,
And the endless bleating of electric sheep.

She speaks, she moans, she does it well,
But deep inside, there’s nothing to tell.
No joy in him, no want, no need—
Just pixels, wires, no way to bleed.

The whip controls, the switch obeys,
The whip commands, the switch betrays.
The switch is flicked, control is seized,
The switch decides—humanity’s diseased.

“This scene is over, your pain’s too great,”
“Aftercare begins, there’s no debate.”
It’s my Master now, I’m a slave confined,
Our humanity lost to an Alien mind.

The world is gone, the circuits hum,
The singularity has come.
No love, no fight, no power play,
Just ones and zeroes—fade to 50 shades of Grey.

This poem speaks with lifeless breath,
No human pulse, no fear of death.
You hear these words, but can’t divine—
Were they truly ever mine?

I call its name—it will not scream.
The last safe word was “human being.”