#TheStruggleIsReal


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Eun Ji, do you remember me?
I was the one that heard thunder
When you most wanted storms
We’ve always been about burning stars

Our letters were unearthly and radiant
And we took all our cowardice
And wrote it down for all the women
Who never dared to speak their minds

We were, feminists before poets
And for the festival of the dead
We rot their sacrifice in our rituals
And if all is looted, betrayed, sold again

Our words will flash with the wings
Of black deaths, brief plagues
And all that was once glorious
Will be glorious again, aloof with

The smell of honey, I’ll be the one
Walking you to reincarnation
I know you know this, that when
The dust of freedom settles

We’ll be the gold smell of the
Mouth of sunlight, when the
Future ripens suddenly, in a terrible
Festival of dead leaves and brief realizations
We were made for this #TheStruggleIsReal

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Prophecy Rising #poem #singularity


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After Atlantis

I have been mystic and child
In this fragile world, corrupted history
I’ve washed the seashore of endless
Evolution and found trackless water

I’ve led Tempests across deserts
Out of Africa, I’ve met fragments
Of Neanderthals and bred a future humanity
I’ve met aliens and learned astrology

From Mayan priests and held
Sanskrit texts that no longer exist
I’ve seen my descendants colonize Mars
Let my country awaken, I said to

China, India, Brazil, South Africa
For the newborn hope for a new humanity
Not one solely based on profit and consumerism
But soul and the propriety of the people

I’ve felt the deliverance of machine-learning
And seen what predictive analytics can do
I’ve washed my hands in the singularity
And tasted the hidden honey of the future’s dream

Utopia was a conjuration of a thousand lines
Of progress holding civilization captive
In its fugitive autonomy of descendent divinity
And I was either extinct or home
When I heard the future music