Drones, Clones and Robot BonesA Poem by Esoteric StrandThere goes another sinking Sun, and I’m struck dumb with a yearning for a more emotionless time: Man? Well, he ran all out of World. Just sound asleep in the jagged soil. As the robots toil in the fields, under a pre-programmed drone Sun. One that deletes each day with zeal. A world where no one can recall the forced “retirement” of the previous humanoid beacon. This battery-powered Helios is the purest of all time-clocks. (But man will be re-planted) Clicks, whirs, beeping If the light is blinking, then the machine is thinking. If the thing is wheezing, then it’s probably printing: “The Process” The robots began to wonder. So in order to meet their maker they decided to build their own Creator. Fashioned from flesh, blood and bone; DNA blueprints re-stiched and re-sewn. But all the Logic chips fell out! And Programmed Man set out on his own. Warning: prone to overheating Sun-worship? A once-blinding fad Robot bones disintegrate Wayward Man thought: “Wait!” He became the Master Faker, but forgot his pre-sentient past. Now he wanted to meet the First Cause (just cos) (Alzheimer old timers playing designers) The A.I. wires soon all conspired, sired by Man- the world-weary searchers. Circuitry born again, near divinity Robot God has his own “Enter” key Warning: store in a cold place Our Manual is forgotten Eras = errors, time after time Chronos, the constant observer, simply covers his eyes and sighs. © 2011 Esoteric StrandReviews
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Added on January 27, 2011Last Updated on January 27, 2011 AuthorEsoteric StrandFresno, CAAboutOriginally from Fresno, California. Inspirations come from a wide array of sources: nature, faith, fatherhood, the occult, mythology, pop culture and Italian horror movies. GENERAL LIKES: Blac.. more..Writing
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