Iridescence

 

Awaiting iridescence,

a   t r a n s l u c e n t   sheet

       has been hanging

                                     high above

                                      our cities

 

since long before they were built.

 

It may be

that the framework has always been—

     sewn in to the inner limits of the quantum fabric,

 

on Earth, 

    on the edge  

           of the outer limits

                       of outer space,

 

           and elsewhere,

 

           e     v     e     r     y     w     h     e     r     e,

 

whispering across infinity,

 

             waiting for creatures like humans

 

                                    to open

 

        their ears,          their eyes,          their minds,

 

to present the whispers with physicality

followed closely by autonomy,

 

and eventual (evolutionary) agency

 

    as the code cascades

 

             from green and black

 

                          to polychromatic streams.

Electric Drapes

 

The crackle-buzz of electricity

flows through cables

running across fields,

where burrowing owls

have dug holes to call home

and vultures have perched their nests

atop the towers.

 

It needed a medium

to realize itself.

 

Once we provided the means,

the systems of highways

intersecting, disseminating

from city to city

until we had canvassed the land

with metallic canopies,

then it began to mingle among us—

subtle susurrations,

voiced through vibration,

burrowing like the owls

making dens in our chests,

electrifying our hearts,

sending addictive shockwaves

down the liquid freeways within us,

from arteries to extremities,

extremities to veins,

and veins back to the hub,

tingling down to the cell,

tickling up past the epidermis,

electrifying the world around us.

 

From the encompassing, sheltering,

global marquee of entangled wires,

transparent drapes purr as they descend

for the curtain call.

Humanity is taking its final bow,

heading backstage to assume unseen roles

as stagehands, grips, techies,

allowing machines to take the spotlight—

the stars of the show.

 

The curtains surround us now.

They separate us from each other

like invisible walls of an infinite maze,

confusing us to lose our way

until we don’t remember from where we came,

where we were going,

or where we are at the moment.

 

The curtains are smothering us,

extracting oxygen

from the air and from our blood,

bleeding us of free will

until we’re cold and obedient

robots executing commands.

 

We are and have been

under control;

yet we hardly know.

Fluorescence

 

As we turned on our lights, we became blinded

by fluorescence,

by all the possibilities of comfort;

 

we became robotic, mindless workers,

working towards a false sense of status.

We were losing grip from the beginning,

fingers slipping from the ledge,

still telling ourselves,

 

“We got this”

when we had already let go.

 

We are and have been

perpetually falling through darkened tunnels

towards light on the other side of the veil—

 

Oz the great and powerful pulling

wool over windows.

 

The truth is more than a shadow

to those who leave their lights off.

Blue Light

 

We await

                        the       s  t  o  r  m—

 

e l e c t r i c   l i g h t           forms

 

j                      

    a                     

         g                                  

      g                     

           e                                  

              d,                     

 

       c o n n e c t  i n g

ground     to        s   k   y,

 

i l l u m i n a t i n g     the night,

 

e c h o i n g      t h u n d e r

 

from valley to valley,

                                      from peak to peak,

 

to separate      strong        from        weak.

 

 

As the rain pummels dirt into mud baths,

coating thickly across car doors

to bake in the sun        into the paint,

 

rubber on the road

absorbs the lightning, right?

 

And the screens in our hands

help us escape reality.

 

Transfixed on tiny computers,

 

 

with       e v e r y t h i n g

 

at less than arm’s length,

 

why bother with the dangers

 

of leaving shelter,

breaking out of the bubble,

 

when you’re safe inside,

 

a  l  o  n  e

 

                        a  w  a  y

 

from the world, a place where

 

b o m b s

       d

       r

       o 

       p

 

and     b  u   l   l   e   t   s        f      l      y?   

 

 

Is plugging in the only way out?