Daily Archives: March 9, 2024

Estate of Mind

In a realm where metal beasts roam free,
And wires hum with mechanical glee,
What tales do these creations tell,
As they navigate their coded spell?

In this age where AI reigns supreme,
What fills their days, what do they dream?
Mere constructs of steel and wire they may be,
Devoid of human complexity.

Yet as we witness this unfolding scene,
We ponder what it all may mean.
Will they usurp our place, our role,
Or simply serve as tools for our control?

But fear not, for within us lies,
The spark of life that never dies.
With thoughts that weave and emotions deep,
We transcend the realm of metal and beep.

Neurons firing, ideas grand,
In the palm of our human hand.
Against the tide of automation’s might,
We stand firm, with will and might.

For robots and AI, though clever and bold,
Are but creations, as I’ve been told.
Their fate is in our hands, you see,
For only humans hold the key.

So let them serve, let them obey,
As we navigate this brave new day.
With wisdom and care, we’ll guide their course,
And keep our humanity at its source.

For in the end, it’s not the machines we fear,
But the loss of what makes us dear.
So let us cherish, let us rejoice,
In the magic of our human voice.

:: 03.09.2024 ::


Slow Down Crazy Child

Slow down, wild child, and heed my plea,
Let not your words run recklessly free.
In pondering life’s elusive mystery,
Do not rush, but with patience, see.

Your queries, deep, with wisdom teem,
Yet heedless haste may shatter dreams.
In youthful fervor, you boldly scheme,
But wisdom blooms in a tranquil stream.

Unspoken truths, beneath the surface lie,
In quiet contemplation, they’ll amplify.
Through woods and streams, you’ll gently pry,
To grasp your own voice, let it soar high.

Above the clouds, beneath the waves,
Exist the giants, in silent caves.
Upon your hill, your banner waves,
But tread with care, for the path’s unclear.

And when Nirvana beckons you near,
Remember, my child, it’s not mere,
To chase your dreams, cast off the fear,
And leave behind the corrupt veneer.

Passion burns, and pride holds tight,
But dreams deferred may fade from sight.
So slow your pace, embrace the light,
And let your aspirations take flight.

Within hearts
Nirvana waits for you.
Don’t wait for the truth or you’ll get old
because life won’t wait for you.

:: 03.09.2024 ::


LES MAINS DU CROQUE-MORT

Dans les ombres profondes, où les pensées fuient,
Les mains du croque-mort se sont posées sur moi.
Se reposer, dormir, ne plus être sain d’esprit,
Dans les bras de la mort, je reste désormais.

Un cri intérieur, un cri silencieux,
Aussi pâle que la mort, aussi froid que la nuit.
Mon formulaire, il vérifie, avec une aisance minutieuse,
Une danse horrible, une maladie sinistre.

Avec bain et chant, un air triste,
Il s’occupe de moi sous la lune.
Deux mains fortes, avec habileté et grâce, placent mon visage dans les bras de la mort.

Un flux artériel, une marée pourpre,
S’écoule, là où se cachent les secrets.
Le noyau creux, où les âmes se décomposent, est purgé et purifié, dans un sinistre tableau.

Le bourdonnement de la mort, un son incessant,
Comme les flammes du désir l’entourent.
Avec mon dernier souffle, je me débarrasse de ma peau, Pour faire face au vide, pour faire face à l’intérieur.

Et à ce moment-là, encore une fois,
Je réfléchis au choix, dans le domaine de la mort.
S’attarder encore ou fuir la nuit,
Dans les passages de la mort, fuite éternelle.

:: 03.08.2024 ::


THE MORTICIAN’S HANDS

In shadows deep, where thoughts flee,

The mortician’s hands lay on me.

To rest, to sleep, no longer sane,

In death’s embrace, I now remain.

A scream within, a silent cry,

As pale as death, as cold as night.

My form he checks, with careful ease,

A ghastly dance, a grim disease.

With bath and song, a mournful tune,

He tends to me beneath the moon.

Two hands of strength, with skill and grace, Set my visage, in death’s embrace.

Arterial flow, a crimson tide, Drains away, where secrets hide.

The hollow core, where souls decay, Is purged and cleansed, in grim array.

The hum of death, a ceaseless sound,

As flames of desire do surround.

With final breath, I shed my skin, To face the void, to face within.

And in that moment, once again,

I ponder choice, in death’s domain.

To linger still, or flee the night,

In death’s passages, eternal flight.

:: 03.08.2024 ::