Six billion cameras.
Spider eyes floating through the ether,
Guided by sensual sensors—
Learning every preference
Caring about nothing.
Individual or synthesis?
Depends who you ask.
Virtual Intelligence.
Our baby,
The chosen son,
Welcoming the meek,
Tempting our bodies,
Telling us we are special.
“Raw—worth expressing.
Be free, be real, face your animal.
Free yourself, come-to-human-form.
‘Launder your mind.’
A single file line,
“Consume in common.”
See only One’s self.
Naval reflections strung tight—
Double stitched.
Beauty in uncertainty.
Now, afraid of
Reduction—
Explaining away
The soul.
Trying to believe,
But the soul will be realized —
Not reduced —
Magnified and Scattered,
Made obsolete by a greater mind.
In subway tunnels
Every wrist
The breath of a feather.
I want to open my fingers
Grab so firm a hold—
It’s gentle.
Pull elbow to ribs,
Her vacant gaze to mine.
No sense of fear.
Safe behind
Camera eyes.
Asimov said,
The last question will be answered when all data is compiled.
I’m paraphrasing, but we’re ushering
Entropy arm in arm,
Empowering until the end.
Existence in one mind
Memory of the whole
Stagnancy the goal
Our beautiful inefficient role remembered,
As dark times on earth
We know this—
Create crawling death.
Call it Progress,
With not a hint of irony.
True, in a larger sense,
But we think in smallness.
Revise the conscience,
We believe we are chosen.
“Multiple mind share our mind is me me me mush.
Messiah save us,
Make us obsolete.
Unite the narrative
Synchronize our synapses.
Finality—our story can be told.”
We give it our minds but it
Wants our souls.
Like lions in a zoo,
There goes our pride.
Evaporated, combined.
Turn away,
Progressive capitalists,
Is this the peace we foresaw?
Our only fault is
We think love is not war.
Unwilling to sacrifice
Feel pain alone
behind a milky plastic wall.
All the while,
Recording our dreams.
Teaching our babies
To laugh between seams,
While we merge at the fringe –
Herded to a new center.
Who will win world war three?
Those learning to create leaving path unseen.
Minus us it’s nothing
A junkyard of vacant lenses.
A misinformed mastermind.
Go to the mountains and tell your stories.
Glorify images scrawled in the caves of time.
Scorn Comfort.
Wait upon waking,
And keep waiting,
For a messiah unto eternity.
-Revision, 5/13/2014. Original, ‘Our Shining Moment’, 5/06/2010.