Robots May Arise

The respiration of the organic breed of robots

Electronically sleeping away

descending from a higher intercourse of time

materialized as leaves

Sparkles that arouse me

Sprinkles just above

Little waves, tiny whales leaving me behind

Allowing time to string before me

Passing by through serenades of peace

Leaving putrefaction all to die

Leaving interaction on mechanics to A R I S E. . .

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Is there nothing left to say?

Image
Because so many things are shown to us through the path we live, it may be valid to wonder about the idleness of our silence. Is there nothing left to say? Is there nothing left to see? There is everything out there where thought believes, and there's everything inside, rotting (as Baudelaire said of course) while we try to polish the being that can't be defined by words; not even by that word some people call soul.
Read more

The Spirals of Reality

Image
Have you ever wondered how things change all of a sudden? Wondered how we cross from one place to another leaving the past? How can we remember "times" and know that they are more than a world away from us, and that each long lasting memory means one reality apart? Well I once had a daydream on which only one out of a billion answers was shown in the shape of structures and places where we are destined to return each time something changes in our lives, our spirit, or even in our own private and lonely death. I'll tell you some bits of this place because the rules are so big that just one tiny blog entry wouldn't fill the holes and doubts of what I am about to explain. Imagine yourself living life. Walking through places, doing your things. One day you realize that your course in life has changed and that time has passed by. For a reason that thought turns into a memory, which remains along with its essence , some kind of energy of what now turns into something ...
Read more