Spot the difference…?

In this reflective article, Alison Hramiak explores the process of inputting their own poem into an AI system and asking it to rewrite the piece in different poetic styles, prompting a series of questions about authorship.

A marble headstone with a poem and a cross

The world’s a contradictory and confusing place to be at the moment. It feels like there’s an excess of white noise that plays out in and outside one’s head, like a really bad episode of tinnitus that just won’t go away. So much so that, when it came to thinking about what to write for this next issue of Advancing Education, I was somewhat flummoxed. At a loss for words even. Yes, really, and not something that happens to me that often. I’m more one of those people that it’s hard to stop talking, as you all know.

I’d tried reading about various AI issues, looking at what’s going on in schools with it and keeping abreast of all things TPEA as far as I could (thank you, WhatsApp groups) but was still struggling to come up with a topical idea for my article. That is, until I read my youngest son’s latest copy of The Society of Authors – a very useful organisation to join if you’re a writer – which had some really useful articles on AI from a writer’s perspective. I also know from the poetry groups that I’m part of that the issue of AI rears its head frequently, as editors and reviewers strive to ensure authenticity of submissions. But is my definition of authenticity the same as yours?

With that in mind, I thought I’d put this to the test within this piece of writing by asking more questions than I have answers to. Below are two poems. One has been written by me and one by AI. But if you use your own words and then ask the AI to rewrite it, as it were, in the style of a different poet, then whose work is it? For example, if I ask the AI to write a poem based on one that I’ve written and enter the whole poem (my work entirely) for it to use, is it still my work? Aren’t they still my words but just rearranged?

What if you then take the AI version of your poem and adapt your original again, all your own words, and rewrite it to mimic what the AI came up with in terms of structure and formatting, is it still your own work? Is that so very different from writing a poem in the style of the war poets, just because you’ve read and admired Wilfred Owen’s work? Haven’t we all been asked to do something along those lines at some point (probably in GCSE English) in our school/college/university lives?

As the AI gets more and more sophisticated, and as we get more sophisticated when using it—and I confess to being a beginner, as it’s not something I use—it is likely to get harder and harder to spot the difference between the AI and the original human version of a text, be that prose or poetry. So maybe it’s about working with it, not instead of it?

It took me (the AI) seconds to rewrite my words in the style of a different poet, and I tried a few. It was interesting to play with it and to look at the various poetic styles generated, comparing, for example, Shakespeare with Owen, and so on. And, having asked it to try out some styles, I chose one I liked and then found myself editing my original to mimic the AI version. As part of this exercise, honest.

I firmly believe that authors, poets and artists should be given credit for their original authentic work and that we need to be aware of when and how less ‘disciplined’ others try to pass off the work of AI as their own. It’s not a level playing field, really. But you can (usually) tell the difference if you look hard enough. Perhaps we’ll have to rely on the professionalism and integrity of authors, poets and artists as we go forwards, at least until we find a way to authenticate work.

Maybe, as we forge ahead with AI, it needs to be more about how we might use AI in different, inventive ways in our classrooms for subjects that involve imagination and creativity. I really liked the ability to enter text, in this case my poem Half life dream, and then ask AI to rewrite it in various forms. To me, this is a very clever, efficient (if unlikely to be original in that I’m sure teachers are doing this everywhere) way to introduce students to very different forms of poetry. It gives them a way to see how the formats, structures, wording, metaphors and so on change in real time – before their eyes – as it were. A very powerful way to allow students to visualise how the poets they’re studying used various poetic tools in diverse ways.

That facility to take the same words and then rearrange them according to poetic style is both engaging and inclusive and uses AI for creativity without ‘cheating’ – in my mind. For me, this capacity isn’t about asking AI to write something for me; rather, it’s about asking it to write something with me and to show me how those words might echo through the poetic style of others.

You could give it a try next time you’re with students. It doesn’t have to be about poetry. How about when you’re writing code? And in the meantime, see if you can spot which of the two poems below is all mine…

Published in Advancing Education Journal Issue 4, Spring-2026

Half life dream

 

Slow. Awakening – half unencumbered by sleep.

Dreams in the pseudo light lay fuzzy in the lilac dawn.

Cooked up in a kitchen of unconsciousness,

They emerge unrecognizable even to the chef.

Stretch memories on the rack of your mind

To see if the truth will out. Pieces of a mish-mash dream

Float separately just beyond reach. Meanings remain meaningless.

Did anyone ever get anything real from torture?

When you can only remember half the trials of your night,

Then there’s not enough evidence to convict you, is there?

Corpus delicti. Leave the half life dream to decay over time.

Greet the day and leave the unfinished in the ether, a radium cur(i)e.

Half life dream

 

Half-life dream – slow surfacing from sleep,

Mind dragging through a dim, lilac-lit haze;

The night’

s remains lie scattered, blurred and deep,

Like broken thoughts that will not hold their place.

What forged them there – what fevered, hidden room?

No maker knows the shapes his dreaming cast;

We stretch their truth, but find no living proof–

Only the echo of a night half-passed.

No crime remains when memory falls apart;

Day finds no guilt within the waking mind–

So let it fade, this dream without a heart,

And leave its ghostly fragments far behind.