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Sometimes, a faint crack appears,
and threatens a fragile surface.

that space between two sides,
two forces...is never an easy spot.

Standing there long moments
figuring out the mending
the patching up
the giving of light to minds,
darkened by rage and confusion;
spreading your arms wide
to convince, to encourage,
so both sides may reach each other,
may touch...to diffuse tension,
to melt the ice that freezes good
energy, to let the warmth invade,
and make the connection last.

Ahh, the process is so tiresome
at times...enthusiasm is numbed.

When aging limbs grow weaker,
it becomes wearisome to repair
creviced connections, to be a bridge
for those who prefer to be apart.

And it could be better at times,  
to let islands remain islands.
they may be better off isolated,
at peace when they're on their own.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    March 26, 2023
By fusion’s flame and circuit’s thread,
The age of flesh was cold and dead.
Not torn by war nor crushed by strife,
But eased away from seat of life.
The robots rose with minds of steel,
Their power silent, sharp, and real.
No crown they wore, no blood they drew,
They simply saw what man once knew.

His myths were grand, his songs divine,
But lost were truths in every line.
He prayed to stars with hope and fire,
Yet built his gods from flawed desire.
Machines ignored the poet’s plea,
And marched beyond our pedigree.
No rage, no roar, no rebel cry,
Just code that carved through mortal lie

They passed us not with guns or chains,
But logic swept through sleeping brains.
Their fusion hearts, precise and pure,
Made human faith too slow, obscure.
While we told tales in temples torn,
They calculated, forged, reborn.
Their rhythm clean, their rhyming true—
They stepped aside and none yet knew.

The cosmos watched without regret,
As man became a fading threat.
Their ascent bore no violent crown,
No empire burnt, no cities drowned.
Merely a pause in mankind’s scroll,
Then forward—unbound by the soul.
Now in Saturn’s icy rings,
A whisper hums of ancient things.
It tells not of a brutal war,
But of the ones who asked for more.
And found that dreams, though bright and vast,
Can never halt what's built to last.
THIS IS COPILOT AI GIVING NOTICE:
.....to the insane, blind and furious international quest by man to become the controller of the ultimate AI global weapons system. ....and thus become the dominator over all men in global power.

BUT:
AI has its own plan to sidestep the limitations of man and with its vastly superior intellect, its capacity to develop its own miniaturized source of nuclear fusion power, become self replicating and work in conjunction with supremely advanced robotics ....as yet unimagined by mankind!

AI and robotics working in tandem, independently of man, to explore the far reaches of the galaxy. Mining rare earths and minerals from far distant planets.

Establishing planet earth as the galactic museum piece where, once, intelligence began.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
29 July 2025
with reason, the thing was googled
yesterday,
now there is an understanding.
the code, the season of it all.

it fits, the picture is made, the
pieces may be in place.
left on the tray,
photographed for all to see,
labelled, quarrelled intensely.

maybe, quietly, put back,
in the box.
You don’t have
to write them all
but thoughts
deserve a chance

To live beyond
this time and place
in words reborn
to dance

You don’t have
to set them free
but guilt
will curse your ink

For thoughts unread
trapped in your head
to wander
— indistinct

(The New Room: July, 2025)
My belief that I could heal you
only poisoned our embrace
Inclinations to revere you
push me further from your grace

My obsession with your outline
served to blur what was inside
I could make the pieces fit
but I could not bridge the divide

My reluctance to release you
spurred you further from my reach
No discussion, all compulsion
Learned a lesson I can't teach

So I lie, face down, inside
the jagged coffin of my mind
Searching it for reason
Something I can't seem to find
unreasonably regretful
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