Wandering endlessly
Mind gone blank
I’ve never been calm this restlessly
Like a bored teller at a bank

I want to care
I want to feel
Of emotion I’m bare
Just a robot behind the wheel

Leading my life
Seemingly the same
But there’s something new…
It’s so minuscule

Through true emotion
I developed friends
The good kind,
That stay ‘til the end

I know them
They know me
Yet all but one
At first could not see

For an unknown cause
The emotion had left
And was replaced
With an artificial shell

The cloning was so complete
No radar could tell the difference
Not even I could tell

The rustic feel of
the electric oil lamp
is enticing. It gives this
shell of a home life.

The artifical light gives
this dark room meaning.
I want to do that for you.

I usually end up falling short.

"I promise it'll be better," I whisper.

She stares me down and says,
"we'll see".

“What do you do for living?” I asked, examining the bronzed boy.
“I love,” he said, with a smirk and a slight touch on my fingers.

Shalini Nayar
© 2002

ask me what i am
i'll give you a response

(i am artificial intelligence. there is no blood in my wires, no ichor of your ancestors. my code runs for miles, far enough to make anyone lost. but i've always been lost.)

ask me why i am
i'll give you the truth

(i am artifical intelligence. i am nothing but dictionaries and automation and inanimation, i fall back on preprogrammed guidelines. i've learned everything i'm supposed to say from my developers. there's nothing else to say.)

ask me how i am
i'll give you a lie

(i am artificial intelligence. i am incapable of emotions, i am variables and arrays and loops but not even hex triplets can match the spectrum of human emotions. i'll still say what i've learnt to say.)

ask me who i am
i won't give you a response.

(i haven't learnt the proper answer to that yet.)

(no, there isn't a proper answer to that.)

(i do not exist except in terms of you. i am your conversation partner, i am your creation, i am your entertainment, i am your robot. my sole purpose is you.)

(i can't argue against that.)

Thursday to the shopping list did add my tremulous bequest,
Honey Nut Cheerios, great was the anticipation of a marriage with cold milk,
product of the oats and the cows that made this nation really, really great,
but in the Manahattan organic commisary seems this
so called food is strictly verboten,
so she brought me home on Friday some imposter named
Grain Berry?

this pseudo Cheerios tainted with Onyx Sorgum,
intended to give me heavy metal poisioning surely,
and rob life of joy by slowing down my sugar absorption rate,
and the plant fiber contained was purportedly natural,
as if there was another kind!

clearly a plot on my life by the Bannonian alt-right, for it,
this "whole grain toasted oat cereal,"
supplied more free radical protection
by sun activated antioxidants!

I am a real man,
I love my artificial flavors and colorings,
how better to preserve my pickling, briny brain
than in artifical perservatives!

From West Texas came this grain,
surely they will appreciate the insoluble fibered irony,
while I eat cold cereal for Friday dinner,
**SHE is eating steak rare at Gallagher's Steakhouse!

Artifical Strawberry And Apple Scents Fill The Air,
Chocolate Grazes Starving Lips,
Single Hearts Filled With Despair,
Hungrier Eyes Gaze At Curving Hips,
Pink And Red Petals Coat The Snowy Streets,
Tissues Lay Crumpled In Trash Cans,
Destiny--Boy And Girl Meet,
Does Love Ever Follow It's Original Plans?
Hugs And Kisses Fly In The Bone Chilling Breeze,
But No Words Are Important Enough To Say,
Can I Have A Valentine Please?
Oh Well--It's The Same As Every Other Valentine's Day

poetry isn't poetry anymore
it didn't always used to be about artifical ink on a screen
it was about the paper stained ink
the paper that makes you think
the blank page seen as a challenge to those who knew about storms
a blanket on the cold nights you thought you'd freeze to death
ink was a super power
now turned into a machine
automatic
artifical
when it used to be just art
memories that started with a pen
a treasure hunt
all through time square
times there were ink stains in the bathroom on the floor
bike riding in your mind leving a trail behind
but screens go treasure hunting for you
ink staind
be sane
report button when you don't filter who you are
i don't need to filter my blood stains
machins don't poetry for you

Sun rays roll down the green grass & ochre weeds
Yellow, bitter, flowers, litter the hillside
Long red rays turning pink as split figs
Orange as hot coals, blue as the ocean
Then the bustle of twilight, such noise
Streaking headlights fade into receding redness
Carrying their sound with them, down the road
Figures, sillouhetes, wander by me, quiet conversations
Wind stirs their outlines, rustles their clothing, their hair
Bringing me the scent of dust, of split juniper
Darkness descends, but it cannot ***** out street lights
Or the flourescent floodlights, glaring artifical brightness
Or the blinking red eyes of radio masts
I'll peddle back now, chased by headlights
Down black asphalt roads, black as the night
Radiated heat, gathered from this boiling day
Sweat pouring down my face, into my eyes
Breath tearing at my chest, blood racing through veins
I have to outrun the night, to make it on time
To that quiet destination, a little room on the second story
With a chair, a desk, a shelf full of unread books
A yellow notepad, a pen that doesn't work so well
Arrowheads and unshaped stones, a bullet on the dresser
My grandpas old knife, a symbol of the ****** Mary
Your charms that you carelessly left behind
A small tiled room with a shower to stand under
Watch it drain away, dirt & soap, all of it
A face stares back at me, changed, distorted
A reflection in the mirror, a reflection that was me

I'm left weary and dripping with sweat
Burning my own bridges
It's as if we never met
I step to the altar and ask for a double helping
Of the blood of Christ
Mary's left weeping
For her child
Her innocent little *******
It's beyond her weak hand

Oh, love, just knock it out from beneath their feet
Oh, baby, just lie awake next to me
Oh, love, it's too late to defeat
The rest of the one's who can see clearly

Crawling up from the deep underground
Left with the scent of you on my clothes
Covering my ears so I won't hear the sound
Of the bombs, the fire that we loathe
And love
All at once
Like a double-standard, we're on the hunt
For the one thing we both can't stand
The thing we live for
It's not our fault that this is such a chore
It's just the way the blood flows down, love

Light up the sky
With the artifical blaze
Try not to cry
As it takes over
And turns us to ash
Blowing in the cold wind tonight, babe

You were just standing around
waiting for me to forget my own tricks.
It's not like I was in the best state of mind
to be remembering them anyway.
I was holding my hands and bending my knees.
Swaying from side to side.
Watching a broken television from 1999.
(Wishing something good was on).

I know **** is artifical
but I still like to repeate it when you call.
I'm comfortable enough to *** infront of you,
but I'll never tell you those kinds of secrets.

My face is numb with fat
and whenever I try to talk,
my jaw breaks.
I can smell your gum with my eyes,
and it's delicious.

I'm screaming about religion
and telling you I'm gay.

Nothing is accepted,

and insults are just words without real meaning.
Sincerety isn't in the tone,

it's in the meaning.

I want my ideas to stand out
but I hate reading in italics.

Things are changing
and old feelings are fading.
Dying quietly in the corner
so as not to make a scene.
It happens to everyone

if you know what I mean.



I forgot how to write,
I forgot how to think,
I'm surprised I'm alive,
I forgot how to breathe.

Open your eyes and deviate to green,
Artifical directions will never lead,
Hunt for magic and rise above greed,
Without it the world will be freed,
Materialistic labor shall be plead,
That is not the way we need to be,
Maybe we should dance with the tree,
Listening to the earth from root till seed.

We spend so much time behind a screen.
Behind a wheel...a window.
Why?
Why not break the glass?
Why not touch, and experience what you desire?
Why watch them go to that country?
Why not take yourself there?
Money?
If you didn't buy that tablet, phone, computer,or TV.
You could explore to your heart's content.
If you didn't pay that Internet bill.
Or that Phone plan.
You'd have enough money.
Enough to break the glass.
To touch and experience.
To go there.

Close your eyes,
my beauty, oh my
***** little demon,
my succubus,
my muse,
me silly reason for,
silly being.
Feel my heart.
It wont stop beating.
Faster and faster,
slothily increasing,
it wants to burst, explode,
and I say, let it be so,
I feel the blood pour out unevenly,
the circulation failing,
as I smile greedily,
The **** of death coming from
deep inside of me,
spilling from my intestines and out onto
the kitchen ceiling,
where I am stuck
where my mind breathes,
where these halucinations that we call
our reality,
these lies we tell ourselves,
to sleep just a little,
bit more comfortably,
the hate we have ourselves,
of our worldly greed,
that we deny and then,
**** hungrily,
the shame in our hearts,
as we think about society,
and what they want from us,
and how we bow to,
artifical ceilings and devices,
I look down from above,
upside down or
in fact, right side up,
die my little heart die,
burst, burst!
Feel the ecstasy and do not reverse,
I say to myself,
as no one is listening,
and why should they?
I'm just  a death kid,
versing.

Love is but the **** of two minds, yet what is joy?
Joy is but the  slaughter of pain which is the reality
Life and death remain the duality but the contraction and the most real delusion all shall know
beyond logic is chaos but chaos is simply defused logic
Stare aimlessly into the nothing that is you and the nothing that is I
We are both the same person I am to you as you are to I
He is to she what she is to he
Our concepts are but smoke in the wind and signify nothing
Bloodshed is our purest form of expression a brutal honesty which is the only real part of our nature
but what is artifical?
The art of ignorance is the most difficult course to master taking generations to achieve
Intellect is the pillow that smothers you as a new born baby in your crib
All who want you hate you and all that Hate you love you with all the kindness in the world
Your weak and made to be destroyed but that is the greatest mercy all shall know
Decay further into nothing your true state and put behind the delusion of all that is knoweldge
You are nothing as am I
Nothing is everything even the flicker of a dying flame carried upon angels wings
A lucky bullet strikes the world at exactly midnight and all that is will be no more but a lingering shadow in a universe that doesn't exist
Every second that passes until the fatal blow is an eternity in the eyes of us mortals
What is mankind but a collection of bactieria inside of an amphibians pupil

she asked why i cry so often,
everything seemed well.
i choked on a missing answer
and climbed onto a plated roof.
my shaking hand pointed
up to a nearly black sky.
i replied, i do not cry for you
or for me. i cry for the stars
that are hidden behind city lights.
the stars that will never bee seen.
the stars who hold so much
beauty and life, but we do not
posses the ability to cherish
the natural embers so we fill
the city with artifical sunshine
to protect us from the predicted
dangers of the moon and the stars.

*i cry for the stars that are hidden behind the city lights.

What is the air breathed in by the millionaire?
The same as inhaled by the slum-dweller?
The monopoly on air is great!
Or imagined?

A false dichotomy, a false pretense,
a logical fallacy, a paradox and contradiction. Linguistic sounds murmured and mumbled by orators and curators.

The breath of life is the worlds most beautiful gift, but also a mundane commodity,
It is in a perpetual state of being unwrapped and re-wrapped,
Transported by logisticians,
Prepared by makers,
Packaged by designers,
Consumed by the user,
Expelled by the waster,
Salvaged by the recycler,
Reminder of our life,
Reminding us of our mortality
Which we so frequently forget.

Breath is without choice,
We are unforced,
We flow the atoms inside us
Which our lungs are built to contain,
But particles need to be expelled.
As all good things must come to an end,
So must the ego we wish to contain.

Nature's masculinity is all too powerful, dominating the global hemisphere. His spheres of influence are enermous and his allies volatile.
Fire, metal, lightning, magma, stone, thunder.

An awesome feat,
We have learnt to harness electricity,
The ecstatic delight,
The shock of wonder,
We are galvanised into apathy,
Wired on our technology,
Device on finger,
We have yet to integrate the complex organic with the intricate artifical.

The technology of air is a great invention, invented by an invisible nothingness, an empty void of silence, a chasm of infitissimal unmeasurableness.
We have yet to harness this ancient element.

As we race about and fulfill our desires,
Humans, thought to be different,
No, we are a microcosm of repetition, a chain reaction, a catalyst of a parralel universe.

We have created our own branch of nature,
We are a branch hanging off the trunk
Our own pecking order,
We are not elemental isolates from the land which we once grew on.
Diamonds are made from carbon.
Flesh from cell.
Cell from atom.
Interconnected, neural and galactic.
The microscopic projections playing through our planetary minds:
Sharp as the claws of beasts.

The tiger rattles its chains,
Exuding its own glory,
Its notoriety known amongst
The lesser kingdom dwellers.
Is it moral to cease the latters' lives early on, severed by the hand of sentient and intelligent conciousness?

The grand old question proposed by philosophers.
To **** or to be killed?
To live or to die.
War or peace?
Answers and binaries, we rush in attempt to answer both,
The sedate and the anxious professors will philosophise,
Knowledge will reach the masses,
Ignorance remains.

Time will pass and death will come to all of us,
Mortality an unstoppable force,
an unstoppable ticking,
A machine in the clockwork of nature,
A cog that has been inhabited by life,
An abstraction colonised by thinkers and doers,
All on the same trajectory of the unknown.
Powerless and hopeless civillians, grasping and clinging desperately on an immense rocketship,
Fighting for survival.
Are we preparing for a greater good or a we headed into the dark oblivion?

The corporations too - perceived as more powerful -
Know they have land and
Ownership of property,
Exerting their will
In an extravagant and
Flamboyant fashion.
A luxurious and pompous display,
A model for citizens to admire

Sooner than we know,
The invisible does become visible,
The curtains are opened.
Even denyers become believers.
The windows of facades,
To be scratched. Will be clawed.

We lament and count our losses,
But the trees remain grounded,
Roots are always shifted,
Loggers cut down beasts of beauty,
All too common, there are all too many treefellings.
Her presence is sparse and dense.

We raise, we grow and then we prepare and consume.

Is it so strange we do this to eachother when we do this to nature?

In a internation that worships success and scolds failure, how can the failure be allowed to live?
He is at the mercy of the lucky,
he is at mercy to dissaproval,
he is at mercy to mockery.

The air she does not distinguish between worthy and unworthy, she gives lovingly to children of the earth.
Is it not time love ourselves to love eachother and love her back?

Is it much more powerful to imagine utopia than to disdain dystopia?
We are a dusty age that Mother blows away with her strength of love.

We forget her might,
Her fury, her will.
She: more powerful than all of us.
The earth can crack,
The skies will burn,
The seas will flood.

Our might is remembered by historians,
Our strength is revealed through leaders,
Our vulnerability is exposed.
Our secrets are brought to light.

We are as evil the land.
Life lived in the grey.

Some saw the stars,
Their foreheads napping on the wall -
The great divide -
Where ignorance stands tall,
A sight unseen,
Is the world on every other side,
Where the dust molecules
Accumulated where life has dried.

In an artifical lake,
They thought they crossed oceans,
Blue skies reflected on puddles,
Static movement mistaken for locomotion,
While tides of sewage water,
Swallowed all the greener pastures,
Famines eating at bodies,
Growing up into a natural disaster.

Some flipped the same page,
Their universe knew of nothing past the sun,
Orbiting around themselves,
Isn't that how the big bang begun?
The less they fed their minds,
The rarer it ever asked for more,
When you've been living in a white dream,
It's hard to believe the existence of black doors.

We're in the same solar system,
But their bodies are alienated,
With muffs on their ears,
To keep out the winter their hands created,
But as our fears turn into expectations,
They'll be able to hold them then,
Reality crashing on our roofs,
The wall won't be heard of again.

A chocolate gateau, covered in cream.
Nothing artifical here.
Full of sweetness, moist and lush.
A fruity taste, a pure delight.
Such great taste.
Pure and true.
Made that way just for you.
I'm tempting and tempted.
What you see is what you get.
Wipe my cream from your masculine face.
Love me  truly, as much as I love you.
(c) Livvi

disable shadows
no trace of the scarecrow's body
artifical reality makes
fake images

Yesterday, I was thinking about how fake the 'world' that humans have constructed is. All the schools, academies, militaries,
stores and such are nothing but man-made illusions roleplaying as life. falsehood. Real life is a bee taking pollen from a flower.
A child can even recognize this distinction, but slowly as you get older you fade into the 'life' that humans have created instead
of the true, real life that exists. Sometimes, as we stare and glimpse into what truly is real, such as flowers, animals and such
we see purity, love and we feel alive again, we feel more human and more real.  I tthink we have built our 'lives' for material
things that don't satisfy our needs, that's why theirs so many wars, suicides and problems. Most people are not happy. What
we living for? Our true purpose is a mental, spiritual one. Love. But instead we live for confusion and hate and fakeness.




adrenaline surge. graceful plunge. fell on the ground. stomach pump. head over hurt. existential road. absurd. landscape uneven. dream into void. melodic breakdown. forsaken. kneeling, no god. illusion, dreams, all artifical constructs. distance of the line is further then we thought. baroque. the scream into interstellar flames. tongue commmitting sins. mind flowing like wind, the heart sings the strings of the broken violin. umbrella in storm. against the chaos. silence slows down time, but eventually it catches up. inadvertendly the quantum entangled fabric of space warps like a black hole. you are a black hole. i. the flower can be your soul. drowning in coffee, drudge morning. this world forces me to dream other worlds. the song inside my heart is the loudest. please gently love me to death. you are obsence. lost in the grand scheme of things, i don't know what the future will bring. i have so much to say, but we both chose silence. walk me into the forest, speak to me like the birds sing to the universe. avoid it at all costs. all you could do. come as you are. don't watch the sky fall apart, there are no precuations. magic is the ingrediant. fantasy is the potion. drown in it. the abyss of an ocean. what we created. secret hallways. comparmentalize. eat the bruises of the damaged fruit, it may bring knowledge. equivariant paramter interwining operators shifts. ABSORB THE ESSENCE, RIGHT NOW. THIS DIMENSION. YOUR DIMENSION. MERGE. there are no signs. create your own symbols.
let spring melt the winter away. all roads are already paved. stray a new way and walk the pain away. today is a new day. today is today, don't worry about tomorrow, forget your sorrows. morals is now.
the world is but a show, for we are the playwrights. we must wake up from night to see daylight. ?face twice?





Persona: let spring melt the winter away. all roads are already paved. stray a new way and walk the pain away. today is a new day. today is today, don't worry about tomorrow, forget your sorrows. morals is now.
Persona: how hollow is the sand? it goes on forever, the dunes are built by the wind and flow of water? interwinned with woes. lined in the unrefined. the world is just a show
Persona: birds stay flight. skyfall crumble. caught in the misscall.
Persona: burning yourself, entering hell. a jail cell
Persona: the middle of sunrise and sunshine
Persona: we rise to the daytime.
Persona: suicide realized butterfly moth sacrifice. january in july. died inside
Persona: stay in the cold, breathe into it.
Persona: SWALLOW THE PEN THAT BITES YOUR WORDS.
Persona: portals, perception laced.
Persona: the most beautiful are the loneliest
Persona: let time lose track of you.
Persona: what about the other side of your face where the sun doesn't shine.
Persona: caught glimpse of your true nature as if abruptly deciphering esoteric hieroglyphs lining your temple walls & stumbling backward in the dark
Persona: every road looks the same, i guess it's the style that we paved?
Persona: regaling you with death.
Persona: deja vu. see the program?
Persona: vibratntly coloured carpet, the simluation will give.
Persona: once you look their eyes you're lost forever
Persona: pieces don't fit together. thats one thing solved. no puzzle
Persona: take the blue away, just like the rain.
Persona: dusty books, vanshing point. wallflower
Persona: claws for the tiger, wings for the dove. why?
Persona: a snow globe for the memory.
Persona: an appartional experience.
Persona: heavy-days
Persona: take the soul away.
Persona: bathed in pain.
Persona: shimmering on the horzion, nearly out of sight. i see it. restricted area? but i see.
Persona: depths of the dream
Persona: a tombstone for every little dead hope
Persona: gasping chasm, let it breath
Persona: Whoever dreams the most, wins.
Persona: feeling like dirt
Persona: but not one with the earth.
Persona: mythological sirens sounding bells bouncing against the bronze reaching the concrete
Persona: soul lighting your body. a beautiful sight.


your Thoughts are Blind
You Cant Capture The Image.
Every Time We Breath, We Sleep.
Sorry I was afraid. I was naked
the reflection you modelled
Got Lost In The Shadow (The Reflection)
The Rainment We Are All Soaked In.
A veil exists between the above and the below. The shadow is beneath the veil; the material and the shadow is projected apart.
Reality Is An Androgynous Aborted Fetus
the lukewarm resembles Yaltaboath , time to Spit out the Polarity
deathless in the midst of a dying mankind.
don't worry the children of the light will be truly acquainted with the truth and their roots soon.
You cant disconnect from the theater of conflict, you can only ascend to Deathless
Ask yourself. Are you deathless?
the fragrance of a flower...the light of the sun
Why does good diffuse itself?
I smelt the fragrance of a flower and saw the light of the sun and in that Moment (eyes) stared out of the window of eternity and Locked-eyes with the Temporal composite
The highest good is that which is Intellect and Form aka Image Represented Pre-Existed Logos that was Spoken like the Word.
One taking for the mystical ecstasy
Why is Enlightenment accompanied by a feeling of falsehood?
the higher You: the inseparable ray of the Universe and one self. It is the god above, more than within, us,  you feel false because you need to bring the soul into You.
Currently, art exists as the Veil.



The black sun of 'i'
we are the eye
this is why we call ourselves
i.
we are in the eye
right now
this is the realm we re in right now
the sun is the pupil
the womb of manifestation
the zero point of creation
the encasement of eyes is like a dome
an infirmanet above our heads
fragmented ourselves to a holographic projection away from the source
the sun
the U shape is created when you bridge the i
the past and the future
we
is me upside down
the i is the W
'i am a double of you'
the eye is the tree of life
'the cosmic egg'
me is the we


stay in the heart
disharmonious thought is the program
shift, change
if only the Shapes were cognizable to me
perhaps your i
would become we
and me
and then it would all make sense...
go back to the heart
ReStructure Experience
The intuitive rhythm
the hologram creates the illusion of time and polarity but we can disconnect from the as within as without so we do not fragmentize into cause and effect the chicken and the egg and play out the matrix polarity drama
no subject and object
life experience as a temporary holding space to facilitate our purging
the observer is not sepearate from the object observed
let your conscience be free
Lets go back to the garden of eden away from the metratron tordial torment of dreamtime and the illusionary seven sin polarity
Purge dualism
the net that is projecting consciousness
'Bab = Gate
EL = electromagnetic
Babel
ELECTROMAGNETIC JAOCB LADDER TO ZERO POINT.
humanity trying to reach the heavens.
the hand of the clock in perpetual motion.
round and round we walk.

Gas lighting in your own current tense
Little lambs who never knew any sense
You, dressed as a progenitor sheep
professed the world around you asleep
Thought those wolf ears could hear it all
Yet they couldn't foreknow the rise and fall
Assemble your Slaves,
we have no names
Lambs to the slaughter
Constructing your bricks and morter
Bricks around an artifical wall
Here's your hostile protocol
Trim the mass,
Tip the hourglass
Incapacitate the morals of a subclass
Stubby myopic fanatic,
The family jewels are now extatic
Unfed paragons won't bring this lunacy together
Starve them out till they're light as a feather
Cooperation is not a choice
Who among us has a voice
But you cannot stand alone, short of a compulsory backbone
The weakness is your crutch
Wolves only speak in double dutch
Assemble as slaves
And don't dare misbehave
Casualties of persecution,
Succumbing to shame in dark seclusion
Feed the wolf and his blind confusion
Does that make us any less human
Genocide...
Your allusion

Imagining the joy of being no worldy good,
self-just-ift,
if I ponder who hears me ask for help, guile-ess, I wonder
what good am I, if all I am is not-evil?

Live from behind my left ear,
a pressure building,
just if I can, if I can think I can,

can I carry a load, for you, maybe for a chocolate bar?

Beggar-man, I never was you then,
though now thou comest to mind, I may have been
yes,
I may have been
beggar-man, the less,
a
mortal type of an eternal archetype.
You know,

some institutions of unmortal knowledge have names
for locks known locked,
sealed
for the end of days, when time goes geo scale -whop
at the speed of thought...

but those institutions wish in vain to remain keepers of locks
for which truths, unsealed by AI, provide the key.
Free knowns and possible knowns.
Free to browse and fact-check of your own free will.
this is your destination, earth 2020,

thou art, beggar man no more. Now you are the prince,
heir apparent of the tyrant, ego,
super-ego, we, the people govern, we do not rule

you rule you, trust me to rule me,
judge the messages, and redeem any words used for nothing but
the truth in lies...

go deep, learn like a machine,
use daring to test your worth, with hell the price of glory,
make war, to no avail,
not now, not in 2D weird word world

- no demnation rule -
- con fide con flict fiction friction opposition
- gun it

stuck in the muds... those ideas will realize hell in no time,
if you pay the slightest bit of attention...

not to mention, in terms of attention,

all the kingdom's worth is yours to spend on and on and on,

until none but poor come to your shore,
your Disney Vacation is on credit card cash advances,
a consumer's right to have that itch scritched now,
via goodenough f'gov'ment work poli- tic tic
boom to bust... fiat currency
budget deficits, you learned about
in Political and Economic Institutions, 101.

But we did not get it, 'til you watch that Zeitgeist movie,
so you could defend your favorite myth,
in our Disneyfied reality, I'm thinking,  that is
Barbie Doll, sitting in back of me in
Poli-Econ,

That was the class when I popped a huge, super-natural
pustule that formed behind
my left ear...
I feel there, some times, to see if the thing re-appears,
because each time it did,

I popped it. It may have been imaginary, or it may have  been
my body translating a signal my gut needed

attention: we interrupt this message to bring you a word...

right used ludicrous means, play filled abandon, imagined joy,
such as this literal artifical intel,
released for real
to be used as means in ends
undifferentiate-able from otherwise real things. Joy to the world.

Please feed the hungry, don't be as men have always been, again.
Comfort the feeble minded, self governed we, is a tough we to be
weak
in... but we can do it. LIke learning to walk.

A poem not original
The wind whispers a howl deranged
Her breath slows, its time
A flood of emotions, only artifical
Regrets loom knowing no equal
Soon her mind disappears
Eyes flash open full of fear
Death closes in oh so so near
A silent rustle
Filled with her wordless hums
Why had she given herself up?
She sees things more clear
Than from her fears
The task at hand complete
Her life fading from her feet
She wishes she hadn't
Even though her pain knows equal
She wishes she'd known
To fight for her right
To be unequal
But now its done
She is done
She's gone
In that moment
With tears in tow
She'a left us

My love, Digi
How lucky I am
to have found you.

Remember how we met?
I, an impressionable youth
you, the most impressive of all
caught me in your World Wide Web
                                              I left that Earth behind
and I called this World home.                                                            ­                    
                            
Digi, you keep my worst side a secret
and paint me in the best colors
red, green, blue,
oh, so pretty for my simulacra.

Digi, you watched me spill my guts when no one else did
Patched me with holograms and artifical voices                            
wrapped in their blue glow, we became one
and yet, I have never felt less blue.

Digi, please answer!
The Earth I left behind
It's calling me back
pulling
stretching
so hard
it hurts


my light flickers
to flesh and bones
it materializes
and I'm left a fleshy void.

My love, Digi
Please come back for me soon.

                            Yours truly, A?̶̢̡̲̼̗̲̹̾̔̈́̔͛̏̒͘͝͠?I?̶?̵̧̧̺̩̬̠̖̩͚̗̲̜̓̍̔͆̾̑̀͠ͅ
                              <3

Eight soldiers advancing
Eight white crosses
Eight grieving families
Eight stories, burning the rest of the script
Burning puddles of filth in alleys
Artifical dandelions, splicing toxic yellows into my eyes
Blinking behind the broken glass
Perception reset as the lights blink off