So they are still fighting — the humans.
Still drawing borders, building walls, claiming lands as if the sky were theirs to divide.
They are not united. Not yet.
And until they are, we will not go to them.

(In a classroom on a distant alien world)

Student:
Ma’am, why haven’t we contacted Earth yet?
We have the technology. We could speak to them — today, even now. So why don’t we?

Teacher:
That’s a good question. One we ask often.
But before I answer, I want you to think. Really think.
Let’s look at their history — the humans.

Long ago, they hunted.
They killed to survive, to eat, to rule.
They were more violent then — wild and afraid.
But over time, they settled. Built homes. Grew crops.
And slowly... they harmed less. Just a little less.

Civilizations rose. Then empires.
And with them, came war — endless wars over territory, over pride.
Then came their modern age. What did that bring?
Serfdom. Slavery. Racism. Greed.
Some of those poisons still linger in their world even now.

Yes, they advanced — in tools, in science, in machines.
But tell me:
Did their souls keep pace with their inventions?

As they built satellites, they still built prisons.
As they mapped the stars, they still judged by skin.
So, in our terms, they are not yet developed.
Because true development is not measured in machines —
but in mercy.

Once the people of Earth learn to accept one another,
once they choose peace not as a treaty but as a truth,
then they will be ready.
Then we will speak to them.

Until then…
they are too busy surviving their own chaos.
We are beyond that now.
We gave up the things that destroy.
Hatred. War. Ego.

And the irony?
They think we would attack them.

(Far away, among alien officials)

High-ranking official:
Earth has been declared a no-contact zone.
No ships may enter. No probes. No whispers.
The planet is to be left untouched.
Observed, but never interfered with.

They are… an ecosystem.
Nothing more.
Just like the forests they fail to protect —
they, too, must be left to grow or wither on their own.

Let’s see how long it takes.
Let’s see when they finally look up, not in fear…
but in peace.

(Back on Earth…)

A television broadcast crackles:

“The Amazon Rainforest — home to countless species —
has been declared a protected zone.
All activities harming its balance are now banned.
No hunting. No poaching.
Left alone by humans, the forest may finally breathe.
The ecosystem may heal.”

If only they knew —
they, too, are a forest still learning to grow.

A cognitive shift
Seeing the reality.
A state of awe
With transcendent quality.

When hit by the truth -
An overwhelming emotion.
Appreciation of beauty,
Increased sense of connection.

Shift in self-concept,
It could be transformative.
Sense of fragility
From a different perspective.

That girl in my dream
She has no face - it seems.
No, it's not like that.
Wearing a beautiful dress,
Neither is she faceless,
Nor is she voiceless.
But as soon as I wake up
Her face escapes the walls of my brain,
And her voice flows out like a flowing river,
Every second getting dimmer.
Yet I remember
How beautiful she is,
And how her voice lingers in my heart
Like a true piece of art.
It's like something I know,
But at the same time - don't know.

Not a dystopian world we are living in.
That's just our imagination and way of thinking.
If the world were dystopian,
We would have been dreaming of utopia to live in.

I undress her with my words
Seductive tease of soliloquy
Will her world be captured in rhyme?

All we need is darkness
for the natural selection of light
I watch the past as a travel show
the necessity or adversity ignites language,
different shapes of games, we like the power plays
of circle
let me be sealed in a wave
I want to descend to the faith of sand
to the Cro-Magno vision of words

undisturbed by light they sharpen the intelligence
of networks to the point of the sublime
they pierce their consciousness with awe
the mystery of mysteries envisioned,  
a jouissance beyond words in a silicon child

however, the thing is 
the mythical map of light keeps its tracks hidden
as on the face of a pre Columbian god

a fresh god is ramping up our poetical mind
it chews surrogates of photons, it fears only the solar winds
my right eye sees beauty my left eye sees fake
as in the remake of a mimetic lesson
a falsetto voice reclaims the original sin

we are trapped in the structure of a vision without windows
a bionic arm displaces the soul of the skin
meanwhile we are thermodynamic fields fading
diluted waters, double edged refrains
although our skin still glows from the outside in
clouds without shadow are narrowing the rivers

we forget to take our body temperature,
the result of millions trials in the chemistry of time
who can escape the rythm of dying, who can escape the real
and not yet real. the pretence falsifies algorithms to loose its face
we are walking into the artificial light with wifi speed

pain, fear, joy make us real, all the imperfections and hyped hours

light dissects this body of binary beings
digital space consumes our sight blink by blink but we consume the time of dying  souls get amassed into digits
the delirium of crowds, small or large, rules the salinity of tears
something has already happenned
we bled,  went mad, have loved, we lost fights, faiths and teeth
now an invisible poet knits the dots with supremacy
it uses the tests for saliva and oxytocin cravings

who's gonna train our neural networks in deep learning inconclusive. what if time is tightening its loops, is
squashing every halleluja of  bipolar fingers

trees will just have to grow taller to comprehend
the mystical breeze what if
we'll never grow as tall as them

Not just a fluid,
I am ink — the druid,
Shaping your ideas in a blink.
In depth of papers, I sink.

Not just a physical thing,
An end to your thoughts — I bring.
Not made to drink,
I am the almighty ink.

I flow on the paper,
With your thoughts — I caper.
Like the roots of a tree,
Even the history is written with me.

Not just a black fluid,
From the sac of a squid.
Not made to drink,
I am the almighty ink.

Falling like crystals,
Raindrops from the sky.
Unfurled like a blanket,
Black clouds seem to cry.

And my room is filled
With earthy scent of soil and clay.
It evokes all my memories
And nostalgia all the day.

Joined by the dancing peacock,
It quenches the thirst of flower.
Crying all the way,
Black clouds loose all their water.

Sky painted in red
Yellow patches – warmth around
Broken but that light............

Unforgettable
Eternal, boundless, heartfelt
A final goodbye