Ghazal Aquarius


59

Ghazal Aquarius

I’m nobody! But strangely
I quiver with the future
A spark lets fire fly in me
I cannot know it the way I do

It lives in me, as others
Follow custom of tradition
They own it, they prophesize doctrine
I’m nobody! Not even a rebel

But the future is drearily awake
In me, like a momentum punch
Of light and change, decades
Fast forward in my brain

Until we are, a new kind of we
And I am embraced by technology
The pain of being separated
From that telepathy and empathy

It’s not something I can endure
For too many years, living like this
In the past, where people are
So separate as make-believe individuals.

The progress algorithm


58

The progress algorithm

After death and dealings
Taxes and bankruptcy
Smiling is madness in its

Divinest sense, descendant divinity
Evolution of plurals
Oneness of connected missions

Assent, ascent, into enchantment
Time is straightway dangerous
But everything to be tamed

After the fall, after morning
What will become of us?
There is no time to hate

Only time to learn a bit
The grave would thus hinder me
When I need lifetimes to

Assimilate the ampler designs
Of industry and a little toil of love
For gains larger than myself

No time to profit, no time to reap
Only the hunger all these years
To dine at noon with algorithms

And by Big data’s decree
Look through windows of prosperity
Where information turns to

Nature’s dining rooms
To transpose a rose, is a rose
Is a golden rose of outsides
That hunger was a way
Of finding technological dynasty.

Singularity spoken


57

~ A Transhumanistic manifesto in a poem:

Singularity spoken

It was not death, no
For I was awake
In all the parts of my being
It was not the night

For the tongues of Noon
Has fallen like my flesh
But I was aware
Of so much more than

Chance or burial would make
Reminded of time
I took a step outside
Of her and her bodyguard of space

Without breath, I felt
Midnight and noon in one echo
Of what it meant
To be tied to a body

I was not anxiety
For I was part machine
Part poem, and all the ticked
Of time had stopped

It was not death, but
Quantum life I know
Success is counted sweetest
When prayers have run out

Like biology’s last play
So clear the victory
Of algorithms and machine-learning
That by defeating death

I became part software
Part virtual author clear
Free-will was transcending
Simulations, and entering

An abyss, of symbiosis
The transhumanistc event
Adaptive and unalterable.

This is descendent divinity


Art courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Flare-516580147

57

I taste the liquor
Of descendent divinity
What is it? It is like the Tao
It cannot be named and it is

A mystical portion of evolution
It is the spirit brewed in Man
The soul in the girl child
That is too sensitive for life

Life in her cruelty and brutality
I taste the water
Of lifetimes, of the infinite
And smell the fragrance

Of forever, scooped in pearl
Inebriate of air I am,
Reeling, through an endless
Encounter with seasons

That I am so intimate with
I can nearly get drunk
On golden bees and lilac sunsets
It’s enough to be alive

Some days, no need to be a saint
I taste liquor on the breath
Of youth in an old body
Like mine, leaning against the sun!

Whispers form the software of the Oversoul


56

Whispers form the software of the Oversoul

I measure every grief
With an ocean of love
I wonder if it weighs
On other minds like mine?

I analyze every calamity
With the treasures offered
From nature like the privilege

The intangible and extreme
Privilege of having seen what I saw
Of having loved an almost Enlightened

Vision of what suffering and
The heights could mean?
Descendent divinity, something

That evolves in contrasts of
Love and pain, so easily hurt
So often ruined, and gently doomed
I measure every grief

But I cannot always tell
The date and time of surreal surprises
The most unexpected things
A few golden drops in centuries.

Or Not to be


55

Or Not to be

I died for beauty and for grief
As if they were scarce
As if I was in need
When one died it did not matter
Descendent divinity could adapt

For truth and beauty
Belong to the future’s make
In kin I never knew I had
In aliens so similar, it was
Hard to comprehend

I died for beauty and for grief
I lived perhaps a wasted
Satisfied temporary, like an abyss
And my name was not beautiful
But at least we were together

In adjoining rooms, fed
Language, light and breath
A while, I died but it was not bitter
It was the natural way to be
Living until we die
Now that was a beautiful thing.

Serotonin is on her Sails


54

Serotonin is on her Sails

I felt a celebration in the end
Of a funeral in the brain
That was not so much Serotonin

But something else, I cannot say!
Something in me enjoyed tragedy
Or the idea of bare simplicity

Nude in anonymity,
Like the keen peace of silence
Or the agony of intimacy

With nobody, but something else
That’s descendent divinity
The space between one

Season of life and another
The waiting, the wrecked waiting….
I felt a celebration in the dark

Of suffering at her fuel’s end
Where mourners leave the known world
And where lovers turn to go
When all the kisses have run out.

Blessed be in weary time of beginnings


53

Blessed be in weary time of beginnings

Death sets a lovely significance
On all our lives and more
For each ecstatic verse

Was an instant of our mind
Held like descendent divinity
The mysticism in our genes

It’s a future we keep reliving
And a past we keep repeating
For each beloved hour

Has a sharp pang of lost years
Bitter contested failures
And love-eyed private victories

They say we err in front of the world
That cannot remember anything
But succeed in our own merit
In the private judge of a soul’s conscience.

On Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality


54

On Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality

I cannot stop for death
One man’s heart breaking
Is another woman’s birth
I cannot live in vain

For there has never been
Another one quite like me
Not I, unto the nest again
Descendent divinity shall wrap

All my mortal wounds
Filling me with light
Hope is the thing with feathers
That fly on dreams that dance

At every dawn, at every twilight
I cannot stop for death
But I must risk it all
To live the life I want

Death will not ask me for directions
When it is to Immorality
Of the soul for which I walk
I know no haste, for I believe

In my appointed hour and place
I cannot stop for death
For Fate has me in his civility
I labour past leisure for a cause

Of which all previous acts accumulate
I cannot stop for death
For eternity will feel jaded
If I stop for long for anyone.

Prince of worlds


52

The world is not conclusion
She rides the glory and tragedy
Leaving us behind no doubt
A descendent divinity

History a symphony of positives
In a life of necessary suffering
We have no shame, generations
Of maladies, cancer of the Planet

We have no guilt, ecological terrorists
To breed into the billions
Imagine the height of arrogance!?
As the oceans die, in a philosophy of next

Permafrost is melted into the atmosphere
The world is not a conclusion
She is a star among trillions
Her philosophy is ancient

Extinction is not worrisome for her
She has seen a million species scar her planet
But none like us, none like when
Mars was once full of life

We’ll do it again in no time
But will we make it to other worlds?
That is the love affair with time
To survive, we do what we do

In order to survive, for this
God does not have to exist
Or any myth in fact, but it’s helpful
To imagine life as an ambush of bliss

Heaven but a moment away
For reality is an expensive privilege
For which I have outgrown in labour
It may be a forgone conclusion that

We die, but in piercing earnest
The life after death must be a treat
It’s hard to be surprised anymore
In jest, let’s believe in what we please.