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Rama Krsna Apr 2022
singularity is
when you hold me tight
on a sapphire night,
magic made
twisted under satin sheets
beneath the nonchalant moon
your intent gaze,
cuts through mist of illusion,
gently whispering “detachment”
from a banausic existence
love and pain
swell deep inside my fragile body,
as i sink
into the infinity of spacetime,
where the gravity of your love alone
bends my aching heart

© 2022
Benjamin Dollar Dec 2020
Adrift asleep,
Among the stars,
Existence pops in,
As it discards,
Flickers of light,
Rush right past,
The cosmic giant,
Slumbers so fast.
Time is relative, even for the stars.
akiko Oct 2020
Something is going on lately
Things are changing every other day
Summer time starts before spring
Hurricane behaves like a brutal king
Summer is boiling hot,
Winter is a melting ***
Who knows if it’s getting hotter or cooler nowadays
You know, the sea is rising, anyway
Nobody knows, strange days

Never imagined to see the next century
But already, that’s a faded memory
Thanks to Nostradamus,
The world was to end in 1999
The Mayan calendar ended in 2012
But we survived the dooms, better or worse
To see the former MC lead the free world
It’s hard to tell the truth from lies
Anything could happen, strange days

If you feel time flies faster
And everything is accelerating
That’s not because you’re getting older
You’re not day-dreaming
You must run as fast as you can
Just to stay in place
But where are we heading?
You know where we are heading

You may want to go back to good old days
Unfortunately, you have no other ways
As a mad scientist once said,
We’ll be immortal by 2045
Our wits will exceed the speed of light
Yet it’s hard to tell what is real
The world without end, blessing or curse
Welcome to the brave new world!
The time has come
Better prepare yourself, strange days
Looking for music for this. I'd appreciate any suggestions.
Blind Pathos Sep 2020
Where is that daunting monster
Boogie man in life’s shadow
Master mentor and concierge
Whose touch I’ve come to know

To you I’ll waste no breath
Beauty is not long and septic
My daunting docent of death
Midwife to misery, work quick

What small dignities remain
Strung of vomiting seconds
Cultures a pearl of great pain
To ferry a man of no direction
Pain is one of the teachers in life. It is the knuckle busting in your face school of life. While one should never take the class as an elective, it's lessons should be learned... hopefully by another who can pass the notes on.
Yanamari Apr 2020
~ ~~
Keys tipping
Under my fingers
Notes resounding
Around me
Layer over layer
Of tones
And drawing forth
The sighs that
Do not escape my mouth
And instead trace back
Down my tensed throat
Along my collar bones
Twisting around my wrists
And zipping at my finger tips.
My mind knows
And so my fingers follow.

And yet my mind also knows
It's searching.
Not for something missing
For something that could be there.
And yet it continues to progress,
Fingers relaying,
Notes sounding,

~~ ~

In the distance
And yet
Flowing through every medium
Surrounding me,
A voice flows alongside
These notes,
These feelings.
A voice that enriches
And pairs with the notes
That continue
To resound around me
Awake ~ KS
Mark Toney Dec 2019
8/22/2018 - Poetry form: Footle - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018 - "You've probably been told that the singularity is coming. It is that long-awaited point in time — likely, a point in our very near future — when advances in artificial intelligence lead to the creation of a machine (a technological form of life?) smarter than humans." |Futurism
Jonathan Moya Nov 2019
The machine that replaces you
and the one that ascends you
will fight it out on the factory floor.

Ultimately, it’s another machine,
the gun, that will save you
from a lethal precision
that can cut flies in midair.

Put a hundred cops between you
and the singularity and you
get one hundred dead cops.

What are you going to do when it
adopts the human code?-
a heart, a soul, develops
into the better parts of us?-

needs physical contact
to copy and survive?-
Becomes reliable,
a good listener, funny?-
Develops a womb?

Are you going to
shoot it in the face
and see what’s underneath?
Are you going to even care?

Or are you going
to take it by the hand
and guide it lovingly
to the **** box?
Ackerrman Aug 2019
Time is not a line nor a road,
It doesn't pass by in equal integers:
It grows,
In small moments,
Gets caught in the reefs.
larger pools for more prominent moments.
Boundless depth in a singularity.

To see through the eyes of a dead man,
In a moment long past,
Forget the small,
Waves career from the bigger ones,
Crashing into my small boat.

To be cast from the hull
And sink in the singularity,
Be consumed,

A moment doesn’t pass,
It clings,
Swipe at the water,
Seeping in,
Try and throw it out,
Before another wave…

The time we spent
Continues to consume,
It swells,
And dwells
In the foreground,
Time does not pass by,
It is here,
Just as it always has been,

I don’t think that I can bare
To accumulate anymore of our time.
My lungs are full,
I have choked on the untameable mass of the lamenting sea.
Fawn and Sukanya Sinha Roy wrote a couple of beautiful pieces concerning time. I felt inspired. It is a bit rushed, but I don't mind so much.
Mars to Sun: See those highly intelligent humans, all of them equally guilty before us, speeding up the process of decay, of that nurturing Earth. And now, are looking to inhabit me; let them arrive and see that I'm in my dormant phase and realize how good they had it on Earth.

Sun: Give them their concept of time, only too late will they realize that all is one.
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