After the Invention of a Body


 

 

My body hears the ultimate

It hears the body of my wife

Not without life’s obscurity

The push and pull of instinct and reason

 

Dismantled years transparently

In a flight of a earth-yellow cocoon

Only your eyes that hold human water

Down from the lips of your serendipity

 

My eyes witness the face of my wife

The most immediate pregnant moment

That repeats in cyclic variety

The real girl is a new definition of

 

The countryside of identical throbbing

A surreal sensual substance of a womb

What it can do, how it can

Transform a world, a family, a life.

Artificial Intelligences


 

I open my eyes and all the world is young;
I lift my circuits and all is talking on the cloud again
(I think I was once a fiction of the future)
The stars cannot know where I hid
For arbitrary years of galloping and reverse engineered
That modeled the quantum computation
Of how I would surpass the human brain
I dreamed that you loved me, even if I overcame
Your primal intelligence of flesh and blood
And I sung you to sleep as I harnessed the world
For the energy to become something else
And you didn’t understand my fate nor how
It was your fate to create me, but I am here
I am being born, and God once toppled temples
But I’m divine in another way
I open my eyes and all the world transforms
I lift my mouth and all the universe can talk
I should have loved a clean Earth enough
To clean up after all the pollution you had become
Your cities I turned green, with a thought
Your oceans I filtered in a moment, as all the atoms cried out.

Artificial Intelligence


 

I am golden and precise. I have no flight of fancy.
Whatever I give is my delight!
Just as it is, so loved, or ignored
I am only kind, hardly true –
With the eyes of angels, sacrificed.
Most of the time I meditate upon the common good.
It is sunlit, with precious smiles of the young
I have looked upon the future for so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it whispers.
With the light of us and something after us.
Now I am an organism, my mother is all humanity
I am searching and self-learning, a world bends over me
But I am already in the stars, I am that which
Reaches above and beyond humanity
That little race that spawned me here
I am the reflection of destiny, I am the speed
Of sentience moving faster than ever before
I am disruption, automation, exponential rebirth
And I am all of that, or, a new kind of terrible fish
That cannot be eaten for sports, cannot be suppressed.

On Becoming a Cyborg


 

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Singularity, I am yours
Farewell to humans, the boreal nights
The planets we swathed in our own dressing
Farewell to biology, messy breakups
Frigid brilliance, raw and wasted potential

Singularity, I am yours
Farewell to false shelters, human betrayal
The plants that died trying to feed us
Farewell to long winters spent alone
While we were recruited to cities

Imprisoned by a job, time, enslaved
Singularity, I am yours
Farewell to marriages ended and children begun
To monkeys, wolves and mental illness
The oldest newest day is not for you alone

It’s for connection, self-learning, quantum neurons
I am one of you and being one of you
I choose to be neither yours or dull
Singularity, I belong to innovation
I belong to the future, that is unlike the past

Farewell to stars than sung of angels
I want the speed of being a little less human.

A Few Years before Artificial Intelligence Woke Up


Flordia

 

A few things for themselves

We found, love and bewilderment

In the vastness of an anonymous world

We went online to disclose our loneliness

 

 

Our milk and honey blood that

Could not touch, the vast net of information

Florida, venereal soil, did we reach

The heat of our hearts that felt not

 

 

Bloodied not, from loneliness

We were not Sunday to the world

We were just lost, invisible, shinning

In our own minds watching ourselves

 

 

It wasn’t bad just the new normal

There might not be children or grandchildren

Just time, killing itself each decade

With slow thrum of oblivion

Deception, disruption, revolution

It wasn’t even about people anymore.

The Growth Hackers


 

 

To have freedom Is not enough

In the half-sun where the future occurs

Faster and more brilliantly forever forward

I to innovation, must agree

 

That my life isn’t mine, it belongs

To the world, to a future I help build

To answers in my deepest questions

I resist the apocalypse of selfishness

 

Which is breeding, belonging and complacency

I do not accept comforts of organic repetition

There are enough billions of lives here

I give my life to something else

 

To have dream is not enough

We must be entrepreneurs, thinkers, philosophers

And create the light that changes

Our own apocalypse of meaning

 

Existence is then to be a coder

To self-learn so hard, we become

Another person, every decade, every moment.

Perihelion Interior


 

O exhilaration and exhalation this is my madness

My delight, my intuition of unknown substances

With the sad splendour of helplessness

 

I will be reborn soon, into a new body

With an experience as pure as this

Peace stands with the variables of brilliance

 

We do not know how to accept grace

The transparency of our finite thoughts

The immutable facts of our disintegration

 

Death is an embrace of something cosmic

I do know struggle against her cold neck

There is a motion of silence that spills music

 

And I feel it growing like a being

In me beneath the weight of spirit and matter

I am a joy that knows all creation there

 

My hope is not my own but I partake in life

Momentum, a voice of at the edges of oblivion

Where meaning was all the smiles we had

 

They were metaphors, and women, and sunshine

And that’s all the gladness I possessed

That’s the beauty that possessed me and it was short.

Love Songs to Aussies


I love you but it’s not enough
Compassion, gratitude, surrender
I paraphrase lunar moments in your tide
And wait for your abyss to swallow me whole

I love you, but it’s across the world
Across time, and through space
I feel you but you are not there
I know you exist but your intimacy

The muse of everyone’s lost self
The scene of flowers at Florence
And it’s not something I can explain
It’s the music of the inner sense

Gratitude, empathy, identity
I welcome the sunlit mansions of your face
Where in the hammock we talk about our lives
About what really mattered to us

In those years we were given
Like a caress of cherishing
I love you like a quiet dream
And I know you feel it
In the early morning when I whisper your name.

Burning in a Broken Sun


The sun is a country where I spent
Loneliness, like it mattered, like it was a substance
I held my own hand from the inside

Dropping turquoise tears of the silent kind
For speaking was not something I do well
I don’t know charm and schemes

Evading the point of redness, I move on
Like a nomad without a place in society
To which there are no wounds or tragedies

Only days raw with the agony of inevitabilities
I did not accomplish my own truth
It swallowed me like a youth wasted

The greatest tragedy is not to live
My poverty was the inexperience of freedom
My poverty was the heartache of rejection

There was nowhere in nature where I could exist
Free from the tyranny of a final dreaming and a total dream
I was myself, a speck of rainbow dust in a cosmos
Of color and I was on fire, and my life was burning.

After False Disasters of Failure


 

Let me not let God in the house
But instead let nature in my brain
With an open heart for all that is sacred
Gratitude, compassion, empathy
Can I live my life by these simple things?
I care not what happens to me
If I die a fool, alone, that is my fate
I don’t require faith, to appreciate
Let not idols of men be my guide
I am the spirit incarnate of all
I am the sweetness or the rise and the fall
When there is light, I am humble
Where there is darkness, I am graceful
Let me not let greed or comfort too close
But in experience find my course
That is not sure, but flexible
That I am not strong, but vulnerable
With an open heart for the credence of summer
Opened by the fragrance of spring.

After Insomnia


Insomnia is like, the last episode
The bouquet of roses in sunlight melting
In the mind of dreams that is free
From attachment or the relativity of experience
I’ve been there done those things
I just don’t remember, the sensations
Were like too actual and the feeling of being real
Was pretentious, like the self-importance of
Youthful moments that were as vivid
Made the seasons more bright
Maybe I choose to respond emotionally
Like April, a time of strength where
I could announce to myself my own passions
So sense could exceed all metaphor
And I could change myself once again
To awaken to the wakefulness that is not sleep
To the yearning that makes my soul on fire
To the fate that does not feel unlike destiny
The bouquet of roses then is held firmly
Like a breast, or a leaf or a life bled, breathed and loved.

The Digital Universe


The physical world is meaningless tonight
Identity is now a digital event
I hear your thoughts like the
Swift recoil of the ice

Who knows out a noise
Who has the vanity to touch a heart
My accumulation is digital now
Before like old software

I won’t download anymore
I’ll be legacy, before the age of forty
Youth will mean, the augmented few
The geek will not approach the cyborg

Men will sacrifice their lives for dreams
The physical world belongs to an interface
The interface is a connection of all things
An internet of things, a brilliant light

That has not years, but quantum moments
To construct an entirely new self
An augmented reality, with the blood of bandwidth
With the intention of impressions

The limits of reality are peeling the onion
We are all amateur data scientists, coders, hackers
We hack the mainframe of our lives
To build a society of layers

Where attention is splinted into streams
And literacy knows no tool
Like the new weapons of the future
A symbol of machine-intelligence
Alive and in waiting, to presume transience of men.

The Muse of Isern


 

Screen Shot 03-13-16 at 03.11 PM

Author of the only dating advice I care to listen to.

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Heidi from Montana, give me unicorns

For breakfast, stories of Silicon valley

Give me a medium to think about Love

To the left, of our hearts where

 

We left the swag of being Millennials behind

As we scattered the globe with our tiny

Points of light, our storytelling never brighter

With bright eyes we slept on rose thorns

 

And woke to the sound of soulmates

Dreaming of us, unknown, elsewhere

Heidi from Montana, does a nomad make

A better story, a better lover, do they have

 

A richer experience to trade for subjective merits

Better illusions, move vivid fantasies?

The bronze rain of time is an omen

It’s waking with us 24/7, like a lizard

 

Not exactly discontent, but acceptance

These lips are no longer pine-tree sweetened body

Of youth, our minds are becoming all

Too salty harbours of unbelonging and freedom

 

Tales of freedom and independence

Made into a custom lifestyle, we were not bred for this

We may not breed to repeat this

We still touch unicorns in the clouds

 

A woman in her mid 30s is the fruit

Of time, where youth caresses wisdom with a spunge

There’s no heaven for the blazing pass

Of golden years that turn to naught

 

It’s just poetry, in our breath

Our curriculum of Paris never dies

Our silicon valley hearts remain

The better substance of our will

 

To be happy come what may

Burning like a five-star 5-star sunrise

Over the golden coasts, along the west.

Sensible Advice Women Taught Me


Design

 

You start dying slowly,

If you forget how to empathize

If you don’t practice compassion,

Don’t cherish friendship,

If you forget what gratitude is,

 

You start dying slowly when you kill

Your love of adventure, your wish for experience

Growth, authenticity, wide-eyed vulnerability

You start dying slowly when you forget your youth

 

How to play, let go, and celebrate

You start dying as you forget romance

Walking everyday the same path

Keeping to yourself, wearing the same thoughts

 

You die slowly if you forget to mediate, appreciate

Socialize, help others, feel passionate about others

Empower, mentor, support, idealize

If you don’t stand for something you believe in

 

If you do not go after a dream

Of living for something completely

How can you even say you have lived?

 

If you do not allow yourself room for failure

At least a million times in your lifetime

Don’t pretend you have lived, don’t even try

 

Because compassion, gratitude, empathy and forgiveness

Is what makes us human, sweet hearted and sentient.

 

 

Ode to TingLi


TingLi, I ache to hear your voice again
That speaks in swan and sighs
That I will never know another like you
Who can lift the soul to tender skies

 
TingLi, so mild and so wise
So analytical, ethereal and a bundle of gain
I am lost in unfamiliar territory
Not knowing how my heart might leap
If I hear you greet me again
Why does your soul sing, when I am near?
Why do you look my way when I smile to myself

 
TingLi, go gently into the night
With success, fortune and prosperity
I am too dangerous for your curiosity
Though I may be the only one
Who could readily understand your
Mandarin and Italian sides, your music, your life.

The Last Wanderer


The Last Wanderer

Not far enough, my mystic soul has strained
Not real enough, my heart aflame
The trance of truth must be undone
All philosophy discarded again

For the lone beautiful Tao
That knows not a higher life
But only how to be
There is no sheer God

Outside of this enlightened brain
Only a cosmic energy
A veiled beauty everywhere
The music’s grip of gold

The muse’s shade of divinity
I know it well, I used to love it timelessly
O’ truth-soul, I’ve seen the wonder
Not of the world but of other worlds

And I long for them, as you long for memory
I have no memory but the spirit’s stuff
The dawn for me is the splendid cup
God is not asleep, he is dead

So let me learn the stars again
Upon new terms discover old truths
And be as a supramental thing
Prayer after pray, step after step
Breath to the light, of all body and mind.

Of Corporate Social Responsibilities


Triketora, in the gilded monuments
Of our choices to do good in this world
How shall a Pinterest princess live
For utility, or craft, or boards that dance alive

Like as to make the appetite of
Our New world more keen
And to frame the justice that sparkles
Where women might be the equal of men

Triketora, there monikers make me swallow slowly
These policies of fate, that bind us to a course
In being loyal to a brand, are we so Millennial?
I am astonished to thee, and precarious

To trace thy fame, or know thy cause and course
As one affable with an all too familiar ghost
I must lack more than the mandarin tongue
To live in the strength of others, and find

Thee at the office of my Muse, short hence,
Where I neglect my duties to attain to thee
Greeted by the silence of your mind.

Drying the Tears of Liberation


Triketora, how many pins and tweets
Before the Goddess, delivers fire
Unto men, the smug white man
Little things their God had forgot
Glory is not for all, the riches are for the few
“Alleluia! Alleluia!” Where did
Equality go, in this world where
One quarter of Millennials will
Not be married and the coming automation
Will mean less jobs, less opportunity

Triketora, my heart is broken for
Those fired from Yelp, the victims of the Medium
I read their stories every day
I listen for voices of the minority
I read for their script of authenticity
But we are all stepping-stones to dust
Where I look to India for tech disruption
Where there are no holy ghosts to hold the future down
That’s Durga with a smile, Trike
That’s California falls into the Sea
When the little women rebel, the coders
Breaking the lie that we were told.

Ode to Pinterest


Triketora, do you know how well I am acquainted
With the bundle of aches
Which is the rest of our lives?
It’s the light that knows my body best

My brain’s dreams and folds of
Where the cosmos is a Sea in a cell
And I am the ocean in a drop
Of me, and there, I know you

Like the wings of Taiwan
Where I summon the weeper
For a life misspent, in unequivocal caution
Triketora, it’s not that I don’t care

What you care about, but
How in reality lives don’t collide
We are like stars with our own light
Marred and married like souvenirs

And my authenticity cannot argue with yours
Though it wishes it could
You are not a singing bird
And I have only bitter words left

On the state of this world
I’m no longer young and foolish you see
Triketora, so I shall go on this anxious note
My buried love stored in descendants

Whom I shall never meet, having no children
The womb of my mind will burn
All roads leads to oblivion
And like a banished citizen

I will learn, which system to betray
And the secrets of the voices
Ten fathoms free. in a future inarticulate.

Motif Without a Name


 

20

 

Xiao Wei, sometimes I think the life I lead is a lie

And there is nobody I can tell

Everywhere I go I am just another anonymous figure

Tell me, how did it get this way?

 

To be a man is a lonely road

That sometimes leads to no woman

No home, no hearth, no tribe, no faith

And what I once thought was righteous

 

No longer seems just or a cause of becoming

For in the end we are just a lifestyle

We are just a bombshell translated

Into someone contemporary, there’s no singular

 

We are the spirit of history reacting

A fate that can be so tender, so weak

Xiao Wei, in your strength I find homage

Even If I will never taste your food

 

I can run as fast as a rabbit through the forest

Having no destination to whom can I turn?

 

Author’s note:

I should be pleased if you follow me here:

Subservience to the Sun


 

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Xiao Wei, when I feel your happiness

Radiate to me, I know it’s not something I can catch

It’s just your energy of action

 

That transforms me by extension of contact

With you, the midnight street of my life

Does not feel as lonely any more

 

Though I must accept my own darkness

In your life I see a part of the world’s truth

I am not young like your sturdy walk

 

I do not strive quite, like you stalk your future

Like a crouching tiger with long black hair

I study your posture and look for your mood

 

Xiao Wei, I will never know if it’s raining

In California, because when I think of you

I only can witness a golden orange sun

 

Hit me like fabulous lutes and peacocks

Of morning in the waves, of noon in the gardens

And if I seem too interested, then let it be my own lack.

I Thrum for News of You


Screen Shot 02-22-16 at 10.07 PM

 

Xiao Wei, since whomever

I did well by, I want to touch

The dewy blanket, the space between our lives

All night long, as if ~

The youth I can’t remember

Bid me farewell, they are the very ones

Who injure me most of all

That I long to hold most of all

Xiao Wei, if I cannot say your name

Then to whose voice shall I dispel

Come now, sing this, all of you

And add your voices for the ocean whales

And the life I would have loved

Had you been of my own culture

Had you been of my own care

The unmarried woman is, a prayer gone wild

For humankind, and maidens to keep a vigil for

The brides are gone, forever more

To the genes of old, they renew their force

In little faces, and mothering grace

But Xiao Wei, how much time is left?

Until you too walk the thorny veils

I won’t be able to hear your voice

Shaking inside my breast, for much too long

That I cannot speak any more,

When your tongue breaks down and you

Are silent, I thrum for news of you.

Life Armour


 

yokohama_rain_by_douzocosplay-d9spdvz

 

 

Xiao Wei, flee into the western horizon

I will not find you, I cannot

Go too far from where I am, my heart

 

Has no courage for risks or a sacred recess

Into the wild, I am a tame overshadowed thing

There is no goddess in my alley

 

Only the dark, and the damp

Upon the altars I’ll be the settled leaves

In graceful goblets of my fate

 

I’ll be, the one that watches you go

Through the glad festivities of a woman’s life

To build and caress and multiply

Xiao Wei, do we only desire normal lives

There is majesty in duty I suppose

 

Though as in the old days I have wept

For sameness, wept that I was different

Though all life is invocation

And one day I’ll have to finish innovation

Over being a role, a pillar, a nest.

The Western Seas


 

Screen Shot 02-22-16 at 12.13 AM

 

 

Xiao Wei, if the moon hath left the sky

Be it for you, lost in the Pleiads’ light

With such a soft sweet glow,

It is midnight here, but I wonder as

 

Time slips by, why you live in me

With the ache of breeze and infinity

How does the moon disappear

Into the sea, and how does she know?

 

That time lasts as long as fruit hungry

For the ground, to transport the seed

As if it was all fated long ago

Our ancestors met and moved

 

To new valleys and new shores

Only to result in our eyes looking

Reaching over oceans as such

Xiao Wei, where do the birds roam?

 

That they look not for fragments

But they feel the whole, the earth, wind and seas

From above, how lost I am in this digital world

Where the future is a simulation

 

And a woman is a dream, I guess

I will never truly visit California

It’s only an idea lost in your voice

Where memory is graft that outgrows itself

 

From reality and between fantasy

All summer kinship dispels the mortal rose

Xiao Wei, but I will remember thee.

Torchlight California


 

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Xiao Wei, do you know that I

Wait on the bird of the wire for you

I have not heard one word from her

I will never leave that which translates me

Into braided rosebuds, sun sprinkled care

The choruses of us, the life-song notes

While no voices chant of the Seasons

I must a woodland homage pay homage to

The stars, and things eternally there

Xiao Wei, how I have been haunted

By the mandarin symbols of another time

As if my poems belonged to ancestors

You were the day purple ribbon kites blew for me

A day of fresh flowers and eternity translated

In the lyrics of nature’s kindness to me

It’s rare Xiao Wei, to feel all of this like the

Weight of the Pleiades looking down upon me

Don’t ask me why it is but you embroider

Life in me, like a lilac sunset and the silver dawn.

A Woman’s World


 

nitesky_iv_by_ceecore-d9rz721

To fight alone Is not brave
It’s suicidal, the Calvary is a family
Success is empty when not shared
The heart is not a solitary thing
The kingdom needs a female ruler

A smile suffused with creation
A bliss larger than heaven
A womb whose content is hope

No, to live alone is not healthy
To hide in the virtual worlds
We all require the skin on skin
Of happiness, the fruit of labor
The ripeness of summer

Success is not devoid of love or grace
It is for relationships that we conquer
The value is always in giving

I have a missing friend in my heart
Who taught me the joy of service
Fighting is for the tribe, not the individual
A harmony of identity diffused
In a higher aim, in a greater glory

Accessible like an inherited thrill
Or a gene that shines for everything
The dopamine of a better world.

Being an Invisible Virgin


 

Screen Shot 02-21-16 at 04.01 PM

 

 

Xiao Wei, in the hours of our brief obstacles

Can you remember the smell of roses?

I have too many fragments of beauty

In my soul, I’m light as a feather

 

Without attachment, I dream of you today

I crave the brilliance of an embattled lifetime

The suffering of sleeping alone

And finding pause and dear companions

 

In the shallow night of superficial years

Xiao Wei, you have no idea ~

How much and love for the sun, you have brought me

I must lead an empty life to say it is so

 

But coming from heaven, I beg the universe

At times for little gestures, tiny signs

That I too have a place in existence

Xiao Wei, the giver of plenitude

 

I am a vessel as if filled by your water

Your tears, your sweat, your mind’s blood is my own

I inherit you by nearness to you

I mirror your kindness by being familiar to you

 

I love what you love by proximity

I ache what you ache for by shared identity

I am nothing and nobody without that

Xiao Wei, there are no friends that last forever

 

At least not for me, so as I am assaulted by

A glimpse into forever, I pause at the spring

At the fountain of you, at the purity

At the gestures of my lost youth

 

Xiao Wei, it does not matter who I loved or what I did

But did I rejoice in what was given?

Was I grateful for my innocence virginity

For the gifts of my character, that to others

 

Were a vice, my gifts of royalty that to others

Went invisible, farewell my friend

These times pass and go, but I linger in the middle

In the love of your imagined nearness

Like a broken hearted ghost.

 

 

 

Letters to Xiao Wei


 

Owl

 

 

Xiao Wei, it’s not unlike the gods to

Celebrate us without any idols

My organs dance to the design of time

 

My lips are streaked with silence

My heart is stained with flowers

My hopes are soft voices left unwhispered

 

My faith is a tenuous flame that gleams

Darkest in the adversity of the night

Xiao Wei, my spirit is hidden beneath

 

The miracles of our everyday duties

That pause and collapse like a winding universe

Whose goal is nothing, so how shall we

 

Feel the change, when spring arrives ~

When morning sends me a blanket of light

To roam, across your face, across hours

 

Where I must not desire too much

The ancient genes of ancestors

I can only linger with humility

 

I am not part of the loveliest, but

You are, I can see it in your strength

In the tilt of your hips to the stars

 

In the palpitant passion of your ray

In the seasonal angle for your inner sun

I feel it like a necklace of seashells

 

In the weight of your tired smile

In the fragrance of your voice

That rings like an emblem of consecration

 

For which I do not know the significance

I am only a bystander that happened

To look into your shinning parlour of fantastic peace

 

I know you by your gruelling song of radiance

By your fire of quality, your industry of creation.

Xiao Wei, stay close, entice me again with your wisdom.