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Literature Text
Amor Mythica
Pleasure chasing; ideals and manifestation
.Eons
Calculating; perambulating; recoil
redress—less years and more haste
.interludes
.
A Cloud Minder awaits
.
a moment
a moment
.
silence interminable
.
a moment
a moment
.
too late
Blue Heaven Cathedrals now; swimming
within the intermists
.prayermakers
and thieves
Lamenting; confiscating
pleasure troves of ideal manifestation
.Creation
Allegory:
“Whimsy does not pay the rent.”
,she said
(Your Construct Does Not Compute)
Skycars and rainfall; circumnavigate
.surreal vistas
Gravitation
Puissant locomotion; retrograde
.comotion
those pleasure
troves
of ideal
manifestation;
us.
Pleasure chasing; ideals and manifestation
.Eons
Calculating; perambulating; recoil
redress—less years and more haste
.interludes
.
A Cloud Minder awaits
.
a moment
a moment
.
silence interminable
.
a moment
a moment
.
too late
Blue Heaven Cathedrals now; swimming
within the intermists
.prayermakers
and thieves
Lamenting; confiscating
pleasure troves of ideal manifestation
.Creation
Allegory:
“Whimsy does not pay the rent.”
,she said
(Your Construct Does Not Compute)
Skycars and rainfall; circumnavigate
.surreal vistas
Gravitation
Puissant locomotion; retrograde
.comotion
those pleasure
troves
of ideal
manifestation;
us.
Literature
affection drive
If I recycled
the love littered at your feet
hearts would starve no more.
Literature
Break
"We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be wooed and were not made to woo." - A Midsummer Night's Dream.
When you fall in love it doesn't break. When you hope, when you really hope it doesn't break and if it does you mend it, you bind it, you build it back up with glue or bandages or crumbling bricks. You mend it straight away and you keep mending it and repairing it over and over, even if it's breaking faster than you can fix it. Even if all of a sudden it's not the thing it was to start with, it's just a pile of mending...of mended parts. When there is no broken hope or love left, when there's nothing but dust, you die. In one
Literature
sempiternal
When I grow old
I want
a thousand
laugh-lines.
For when rainbows dilute and notebooks fatten
on time’s untimely passing,
when the moon falls out of kilter with a sun that
curdles in a sad, forgotten sky,
and the rain congeals inside the clouds
when the slurry of seconds sinks deep into my bones
and my skin crumples like parchment, my spine coils and splinters
and my fingers buckle, knuckle-cracking -
when my dreams fa
Suggested Collections
Abstract:
In the near future, 16 year-old Adrienne Dilectio receives a series of startling electronic messages, each increasingly complex, abstract and tender. Her pursuit into the origin of the messages leads her on a twenty year journey to discover the unthinkable: the communications are love poems from the future, from the artificial intelligence of the skycar in which she suffers mortal injury. Are the poems warning or lamentation? Do quantum computers hold the key to time travel?
* * *
This poem is an excerpt from the story mentioned above. I enjoyed writing the poems from the artificial intelligence's perspective as it grew in sophistication and ultimately developed its own style of communication. This is the last transmission before the fateful moment.
In the near future, 16 year-old Adrienne Dilectio receives a series of startling electronic messages, each increasingly complex, abstract and tender. Her pursuit into the origin of the messages leads her on a twenty year journey to discover the unthinkable: the communications are love poems from the future, from the artificial intelligence of the skycar in which she suffers mortal injury. Are the poems warning or lamentation? Do quantum computers hold the key to time travel?
* * *
This poem is an excerpt from the story mentioned above. I enjoyed writing the poems from the artificial intelligence's perspective as it grew in sophistication and ultimately developed its own style of communication. This is the last transmission before the fateful moment.
© 2007 - 2024 neoHephaestus
Comments8
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If it wasn't 6 in the morning I think I'd have more to say. But I did enjoy reading this. Even if I don't quiet understand every small message. But I am intrested in the story you speak up. If it's half as good as the poem it's sure ot be a good read.
Thanks for this little bite of literary heaven
-Joey
Thanks for this little bite of literary heaven
-Joey