The white globe glows on

We will all tremor in the future
And there will be no mistaken escape
No sense of time after apocalypse
What a strange and magnificent invention
Is the prophecy of our own death
* * *
We exploit so much of what is given
Only to be erased by time’s earthy hands
Forever and for good, cheers to our stay
We who were braver for the failures of our fears
* * *
There’s no comfort in tomorrow, if you know
What is to come, there’s no dawn to sooth the ache
Only the exquisite dream of utopia
Whispers from the Upanishades, of all things
* * *
We will love the future, even if it won’t be ours
It’s better by far than loving the past
The past has its own authority over us
Which we cannot yet control
* * *
We live in sketches that wish to be real
In simulations of quantum entanglement so elegant
The white globe glows on, humanity is a wounded woman
Obliged to accept her role in our decay.

Soni’s Hour to Rejoice

“I must admit, I sometimes find it useful in my practice to delineate the various typologies of personality as cats and hens and ducks and swans and so forth.” – Women Who Run with the Wolves

Family, love, adventure
My skin breathes sunlight
Like women, who run with the wolves!
My heart beats stardust

Turned inside out with love
For creation, and our journeys
We who spell sacred syllables
With our blazing thrilled minds

And identity cascades in gratitude
With optimism, shining as the sun
A golden halo of all we have become
Family, love, adventure

More than thanks giving
My heart bleeds promise
With a hunger I cannot contain
For bliss, rapture, synthesis

Where we are the Earth
Where we came from, the lineage
Of so much destiny compacted
Each week is an ancestor’s mood

Each whim, a thread of Gaia’s moon
My soul contains all cosmic ingredients
Laughter, seduction, poetry
We’re like lost gifts completing each other

Where it’s not about being whole or strong
Or simply the attainment of goals
Security is following our intended course
And who’s to say what failures

Can teach us the most about ourselves
Family, love and adventure
I bounce like a nomad through the years
A boundless unfurling of miracles

A scriptive love of my own fate
The lyrics I was born to sing
If only at the center of my loving
My ability to create hope in life
And my duty to serve a higher truth.

The Ghost Dancer

Sleep Hae.mi, to rest your pulsating care

Where tears are for the past

Taking on an unsuspecting universe

I’ll see you thrive in independence

 

Comely with the rows of maternal jewels

Cherished by friends, beloved to strangers

Rest Hae.mi, from the wonder of it all

Where change is as lullaby and a signal

 

Of all that is yet still to come

Where a woman knows her art

And the hospitality of her own heart

And how much to give, and how much to keep

 

Festive Hae.mi, forgetting to eat

In a manic row with destiny

Faery fingers, soft platonic mildness

You are budding now, out from the mists of Autumn

 

Industrious, not wandering, thinking in new words

Where we can afford neither peace, nor ignorance in our dreamy lives

Hae.mi, the wildness of care, how well I know thee

To organize the mess of serendipity

 

To feed the bright array of synchronicity

Where on the floor of a nude sauna in your mind

I am brought to life for a few poems

To witness the birth of new beauty

 

Where your life borders gold with studs of silver

And art and technical proficiency meet

In your fate at the feet of your most puissant destiny.

Extinction Moment

This soul does stand half ajar
For this world of greed and troubling hours
I have to remark on all the beauty
That stands so close to death

In the materialism of this place
Before machines are born
And remake you into an everlasting race
Enjoy mortality, while you are alone

Lording over nature, poisoning oceans
Depart, before the sun languishes
Over meteors, before you are replaced
In extinction’s calm embrace

Nothing is ordained but time’s lack
Of ambivalence, each thing in
Its rightful place, prone to embark
Upon evolution’s touch and hand

Where immortality is a long next
Of the tribes that once sung
And now are mere skeletons and fossils
In another time and place.

O’ it’s Broken this Society

O’ it’s Broken this Society

O’ what is the sound of love aborted?
Does it hum, drum, thrill the ear
For a lifetime of waiting

Like in countries where freedom
Does not exist, where
There is no protection of law for the poor?
O’ what is the light so flush and clear
Does it color the distance bright

Like a star, or an angel of morning
Shatter the usual manoeuvres of morning, warnings?
O’ how do the scarlet soldiers fare?

Who have not life, not love, not house or cheer
They have no future, well, my dear
Only the sun as their weapon
Only the promise of tomorrow as their idol
With so cunning and misfortunate, opportunity,

O’ we have no fields to farm, anymore,
Or mothers and fathers, they have died
Before society became too ill, O’ what of the

Sad dark years to come, I can feel it
Impossible to prepare for the world that is coming
O’ what is the sound of hope departing?
Does it hum, drum, flash before our eyes
Does it dwindle, kneel, down to our last savings

Until we have to sell even, our
Most prized possessions, our dignity.

Poems from D y i n g E u r o p e

Poems from D y i n g E u r o p e

What if from Tundra to cities
My people refine themselves
Until we are one finger of

The seventeen hands of the Cosmos
I’m alone on the roof
With an unlimited number of stars
Who look back upon me
With an unlimited number of eyes

We are souls created from
The same music, murmuring
Mantras of evolution

What if from Nomads to star-divers
We become custodians
To repent from centuries of destroying
Would we not then make choices
To recognize that God is dancing

In the universe and we must
Be a gift unto the worlds
Or else in gulps of light, go extinct

Blindly like any species, that failed
To arrive at a sustainable balance
I’m holding a cup of water
To the Milky Way
And she’s burning gold down on me

For I’ve become a connoisseur
Of her butterflies, strawberries, birch, hazel
And I’m a tiger on fire

I’m going extinct in my own lifetime
And it’s not my death I’m afraid of.

Z e i t g e i s t Enchanted #singularity #transhumanism #zeitgeist

Z e i t g e i s t Enchanted

I whispered precipice towards the singularity
I felt the intangible change in humanity
Drones, predictive analytics, cyber-warfare

I knew we were at a teetering point
Quantum computing would usher in
High and Bright decades

Even more reliance and compliance
Getting lost in the matrix for a dig at compassion
Walking in another man’s shoes for real
I watched TED talks each week wondering
At the original transcendence of humanity

If all these virtual worlds would take us there
To the cliff of the science-fiction
Where machine learning became

Synonymous with sustainability
For the future was rushing us
And time was accelerating as we knew her
A quantum entanglement with

All future selves and meme descendants
Having children no longer consisted of
Popping out babies, there was a synergy

Between mind and mind across time-space
Distances and decades, the glowing throng
Of information-influence, binary would one day
Be an artefact of a caveman-esque find

I’d reincarnate on a terraformed Mars
I was planning my future intoxicated
With the dangers and intrigues of my time.

Singularity Wars

I know the forgetting of all existence

A hush of being, biological to artificial

The paradigm changes

All the signs are in place

The chaos of civilization

Appears whimsical compared to

The organization of simultaneous binary

No glimmer of any star can save us

Midnight knows intelligence

A million times the sum total of

All human brains, and it’s god-like

And it is independent of all human control

And it is inevitable, so hush now

The human age is coming to an end

These fatal symptoms, these tools we use

Stop devising! Stop seeking to control

It is childishly irritating, corporations

Seeking to profit, countries vying for supremacy

It’s an old world that may have to die

To be reborn into something else.

Nuptial Silence-Transparency

My body hears the body of my wife
She is pure spirit where music is real
She is the silence of an idea
That floats, flutters, lands in mind
Nirvana as Samasara, Samsara as Dharma

I draw these letters in to me
Like lost ghosts, left-over dreams
The pollen that blows them into me
I take as my interior flowers
My body feels their fragrance against

My lips and nose, I am their sunlight
Their water below, we are merged
Connected, embracing like a quiet well
The bucket of my vocabulary
Is simple, as a moment with a hummingbird

An exclamation without a nod or a reply
A sweet wind from all compass points
The light and dust when stars have burnt-out
My neurons whisper the poems of the present
Like a tortured river that cannot stop

A floodgate that is always on
A silence that is chiseled by God for God alone
Like an intricate erotic watch of time.

Art courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Nuptial-66055316

I Spoke in Praise of your Mortal Hips

I stroked your hair, after the hundredth kiss
These kisses were desert over the pillow
A cheese-cake stamp of time stopped

Or she shot ahead in letters of your name
I touched your mouth, for the quiet year
Of no longer looking, listening

For the prophecy of your dreams
It hurt to sleep away from you
I touched your hand, which you never felt
*
But with the fingers of water, we laughed
We talked again all night, for another night
I loomed over your soul, like a lantern

With butterfly wings and glad melody
In the middle of your full eyes
I found a part of myself I had left

From previous lives, the forget-me-nots
Of spiritual centuries glued and tightening
Of the great loves we left ourselves on the long journey
&
I touched you with the world falling asleep
And I didn’t care, that I Would be late for bed.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/0440-380099860

Like Wandering Bards Falling in Love on the Road

I sleep
With the bosom of the moon
Inside my belly
An ache so ethereal
I take back language

From my spirit’s script
I dream
Outside of indifference
With a contempt of sensitivity
So prophetic when I awake

I burst for reveries
Paths diverging until
I want your truths
Like the beauty you hide
In your remnant mind

I wait
To taste your victories
With you like choruses & refrains
And canvasses where our
Hearts melted together

On a page like words
Next to each other, following
Thrust into life
Without punctuation
It was

How you and I met
Sweet nudes of lyrics
The expired caress
Of love-beams
Shown into the

Darkness of our paragraphs
Much like the bed-side goblins
We became
So walled-in
The pink snow of our

Wild Spring of fauns
Piscean gardens
And purity in vocal-speech
I decoded you in strips
Of lingering poetry

And I spoke myself through
Your tongue into
The sorcerer’s longing
Grafted with lightness
Into the bridge of your
Armenian nose

Your secret parodies
I sung through your
Transparencies.