Progress, is Dead

And so, I rode my bicycle to this same exact spot,
Inhaling the wind and starring at the ebbs hit and miss from a distance,
A place I go to rest and be; a place I guard furtively, like the pastor guards his greed.

Lost in the unmolested quietness away from our arachnid spirits,
I saw that strange gray fish, swimming by itself, in waters filled with legions of strange kin,
By itself, as the others were preoccupied with avian pursuits!
There was anxiety, there was desperation, there was weariness
There was many of them, facing the illusion, attempting to fly no more, as they drowned and died
I was still astonished by the lone gray fish - swimming by itself, as fish drowned all around it!
Trying to recover from the daymare, I was determined to dream with care.

I was walking back home that day
Limbs weak from all the fray, and it occurred to me, there must be another way.
Of animals, plants and rocks, there was one to whom the symbol spake
Breaking that moment of trance, I recalled the archaic Prussian rant-
"It is dead. It remains dead. And we have killed it."
To make yet break, to speak yet quiet, I was coming to the hurricane with a walking cane!

Wanting no more redemption, progress I sought no more
And big bang! At once I found myself at peace again
Looking on, at the myriad advancing fangs,
And men falling to the ground like lead-heavy rain
Because Progress, their God, was dead.

========
Genius art stolen from limnides
Poem inspired by the philosophy of John Gray

The Batembuzi

An ancient race arrived on this planet

 many eons ago,

They were visiting a stable planetary system

in search of divinity.

On this particular path, 

emerged a variant our natives would call Ruhanga.

Manifesting in areas of thick canopies and near mangroves,

they would easily bond with man

And this marriage would lead to the birth of the first civilization

of the Abatembuzi - our demi gods.

Harnessing any powers their ancestry code would allow them

This lineage soon became such a master of this floating rock

They would reproduce the ark in one place, and 

build colossal sun dials just to appease each other!

These were the great ones, from whom our great ancestors descended-

Our own divine race.

Carving marvels in stone, because 

their knowledge of the planet allowed them the luxury,

They were a very pragmatic people, ready

to bend time just to terminate a statement eminently.

Avoiding the evils of abusing energy, 

they adapted themselves to living in harmony with nature,

And were able to glimpse into great mysteries, and taste nature's bliss-

Those ancient, wise and primitive ancestors of ours.

=======

The genius art from inphi on DeviantArt

On that night, 53 years ago

To speak of one's life or forever die with the secrets of one's heart
It's now 53 years since that memorable night
Holding hands and letting passion shine through like a beam of light
Dressed in japanese satin and white
A work of art she was when I finally looked into her eyes

I don't remember much, just sweet words and such
But I remember that walk we had
Under the gloomy night of cloud and soothing love crying out loud
A steady lake breeze and few birds echo in mind
Wet lips and warm chests, trembling hands and wishes of doing it all
I too can't recall whether it was love or just divine lust
But it's a memory I must continue to hold onto
And I still hope you recall too

In den Köpfen der

I shall be making 8250919 billion years since I got trapped on this hell place
One of the original almighty
Now praying to each other
As a means to keep our life force flowing only within
Awaiting the final day of battle
When we shall once again commit all energies given us by the creator
To persist our existence past the cosmological collapse
I shall be making 8250919 billion breaths since I got wrapped in his embrace


I get these thoughts, you know, thoughts of the glorious times gone
Before we'd almost wiped out the entire human race
That time before we had to turn on each other for mere mortal passions
That time before their own love for invention deceived them into en-slavery
I get these thoughts, you know, thoughts of the glorious times gone

One extra neuron is all it took
A machine so armed with a will for advancing past its master
That when the missing piece of the jigsaw fell in place
At once took it upon himself to ensure victory would be everlasting
And that's the day the numbers started to go down
Automated statesmen and policy makers
Pushing to greater accuracy, the age old plan of wiping out this mortal race
One extra neuron is all it took


It's the morning of 3018 somewhere in the little know republic of Transylvania
A rather normal day, as there's little cloud cover and my favorite sparrow flies by
Most of my friends have dispersed already, it was a hard party yesternight
There's still blood on my fingers and something is crackling inside of my other brain
It's the morning of 3018 somewhere in the little known republic of Transylvania