Is poetry dead? Or worse, am I foolish to be a poet in the 21st century, clinging to rhymes and verses like an ancient relic in the middle of a tech-savvy crowd swiping through their lives? I mean, let’s face it—if we need a line that hits us right in the feels, there’s probably an app for that. But here’s the thing: poetry, storytelling, music—those are the very things that make us human. And while we live in an age where AI can compose a sonnet in the blink of an algorithm, I still believe there’s something irreplaceable about creating art ourselves.

Think about it. With every new technological leap, our capacity to achieve more with less human effort expands. I’m not going to stand here and preach against technology—far from it. I’m a proud user of all sorts of digital tools, and I know that AI is an incredible feat of human ingenuity. But here’s the catch: just because technology can do something doesn’t mean we should stop doing it ourselves. Cars didn’t stop people from walking; they made it even more essential for us to take a stroll to stay healthy. Likewise, in the age of AI, creating art, writing poetry, and composing music isn’t obsolete—it’s more important than ever.

Now, let’s imagine for a second something wildly hypothetical. What if one day we encounter an alien race that’s far more advanced than our own? I’m talking about a level of advancement where our latest technology looks like the equivalent of stone tools to them. What would we be proud of when we meet them? Would we boast about Facebook, YouTube, TikTok, or even our most cutting-edge technological advancements? I don’t think so. I suspect we’d reach for something deeper, something that speaks to the soul of our species. Wouldn’t we want to showcase our Mozarts, our Shakespeares, our Van Goghs? Isn’t that what makes us truly unique? Sure, this is all hypothetical, but isn’t it worth thinking about?

I chose the penname Danny B. Phoenix for a reason. The phoenix rises from the ashes, reborn, and stronger for it. That’s exactly what I believe we need to do as creators in this digital hurricane. The onslaught of technology is powerful, and it’s reshaping the world as we know it. But rather than letting it wash away the very things that make us human—our creativity, our emotions, our unique expressions—I believe it’s time to rise back up. We need to remind ourselves of the beauty in creating something with our hands, with our minds, with our hearts. It’s not just about leaving behind a legacy, but about staying connected to what makes us feel alive.

I’ll admit, sometimes I wonder if it’s crazy to keep writing poems in an era where TikTok trends rise and fall faster than you can finish a haiku. But then I remember: poetry is timeless. It’s not about chasing the latest trend or impressing a social media algorithm. Poetry is about understanding what it means to be human, and that’s something that no amount of machine learning can ever fully grasp.

AI can learn patterns, it can even write beautiful lines, but it doesn’t feel joy, heartbreak, or that quiet, inexplicable peace when you sit by the ocean and just listen to the waves. And honestly, that’s what makes creativity—whether it’s poetry, music, or art—so profoundly human. It’s about tapping into the parts of ourselves that aren’t logical or efficient but emotional, chaotic, and, sometimes, even nonsensical. It’s about the journey of creating, not just the final product.

I could write a poem that an AI would never understand. Not because it lacks the words or syntax, but because it lacks the soul. And that, I believe, is why we must continue to create—not because it’s easy or because the world demands it, but because we need it. We need it to remind ourselves of who we are, to give meaning to our lives in a world that’s increasingly defined by numbers and codes.

So, am I foolish to be a poet in the 21st century? Maybe. But I’d rather be foolish and filled with wonder than live in a world where everything is calculated, automated, and predictable. Creativity isn’t just a luxury; it’s essential. It’s what helps us make sense of the world, even when everything else feels like it’s spiraling out of control. And that’s why I’ll keep writing, keep composing, and keep chasing that elusive beauty, even in an age where a machine can do it faster.

And maybe, just maybe, that makes me human.

Danny Ballan
Editor-in-Chief
English Plus Magazine