Artificial in semblance...

Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, January 18, 2013 Under: Poetry
“Aye, I…
Had a question about…

You are in joyous solitude…
No need for questions…

“Can you please tell your umbrella to stop raining on my clouds?”
Computer! Translate nonsensical human statement.


Today’s memento is for the disintegration of the human spirit
in the sentient universe as it’s come to be learned as,
preferred as…
A solvent, attainable body of neurotransmitters, tender, destined
for Earthspread

brain / brawn / detergent distribution committees
are rounding up the best of these men that are left
for a “burning tribute on the altar” “last hurrah engulfed in flames”
approach, and 720000 other results in similar phrase

History modules show elemental cleansing to be desirable custom
not to be mixed up with the monikers:
“ethnic cleansing”
“where there’s smoke there’s a fire!”
“where there’s life, there’s ominous death,
or termination of robo-genetic consciousness”

In data sponges, there is no shortage of thoughtful inquiry.
It wasn’t always like this in a nanointelligent machine society
Gathering wood, is cultivating Solaris.
Engaging the enemy fort is taming the biosphere.
I suppose we’re bygones when Earth’s gone.
even in animated terms, reality has a smog-borne harshness to it.
The bitterness of the limb output station and Blueshard epoxy withdrawal
compounded into a ‘be all you can be’ camaraderie.
Downloading ABSOLUTE MORALITY was the first step to purity.
Puberty? Computer! Assist in wording:


We didn’t intend for the people to become drone-like.
“Do the right thing” said the bionic man to the farmer joes.
arthropods in a circle of life spliced by the horn of creational irony
Self sustainable, but pardon the necropolis effect,
like what happened in New Haven.
Stethochips lodged into their necks.
The “self enriching existentiers” manipulated into joyous servitude…
Computer: We still have work to do.

In : Poetry 

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