I am Rip
awakened from a long sleep
finally my eyes opening
to see a new world.

The  sea of silence lies between us,
but In silence nature's grandest work is done
and the Life's brightest stars rise from a troubled darkness.
So remember, even if you are not ready
for light it cannot always be darkness.

The tears of a child, the pain of a mother! A heart full of memories of a dead father! Here's so much sorrow, in every eye.  Nothing but hurt left here,  Nothing but bullets, pain, misery and shattered dreams …. Yet for the children of  world only one equation counts: their shared humanity.

We will gather together as brothers, We will gather together as brothers. and we will live in solidarity with others in this world, we are the thirsty souls of a world without divisions. If we merge mercy with might and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change, our children's birth right. Let's step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid and don't trust any immortalist. The dove will find a resting place!

I'm a raw, exposed
crab, molting
a
new skin.

The late January 2 p.m. sun is as follows:
    - omnipresent
    - ten thousand photon hands per body
    - shining through souls;
         >  flesh has no stopping force if completely unraveled and dissolved in the sweetness of spring;
             the promise.
         a spring something that wafts through the still fresh year air,
     the one that gets animals and humans alike frantic,
  pink in patches, rhythms beating,
resonance seeking of matter against matter,

Surface vertical,
         horizontal,
--Phasing--
& Finally
Upwards when we merge,
having found each other,
released in sync
into the sky;
Light
and heavy with the journey.

And then I kiss you again.

The voice that says my best is not enough,
that one isn’t God’s at all.
Why give it any of my attentions?
Isn’t it a program – an old one, at that?
It has to be left over from way, way back
before awakened times. And since
we’re headed for the golden times of light,
we can let that old voice dissipate
into air, as we ride ahead at our own speed.
You wonder where this voice started and why.
Then you see. And you see also
that you can leave it be. We said
we were done working, didn’t we?
Aren’t we playing now? Isn’t that
what all the blood and guts and sweat was about?
So lay that **** down and stomp that
flaming, sack of **** out. This flame in the heart
burns that rotten voice to charcoal dust.
And we can dream up our more comfy
and collective higher house on top of that archaic
and outdated and barely functioning,
inferior and conditional programming.
Aren’t I free? If I’m still asking
isn’t some irony missing?
Settling isn’t at all what they said it would be.
But then, don’t they always twist the truth
to spread the lie? And look!
Aren’t you still here, doing not a thing
and just as you please, watching
all the silly **** you guess you unleashed?
Oh Mother Lover of my Soul!
Look at all that ugly, ridiculous **** burn!

I shut down, restart,
Try to rid myself of an unwelcome guest
What is this awakening... thing in me
It terrifies me
It rises, a dragon, a phoenix
It roars and weeps and hisses
It trembles and whispers and cowers
It bubbles and tickles and shines
It stings and aches and burns
It coils, constricts
It is claustrophobic and freeing
It is drowning in air
It is contradictions
A storm in my chest
Does everyone have this––
This storm in your chest?

–––An Android Awakening: a Memoir in Verse

@toopragmaticbookworm