Poetry-Thing Thursday: If Only We Might See The Future

Splitting Earth and thunder.
A storm that blows foretold.
Though the speechless wonder,
ancient eons more than old,
could topple a mighty empire,
and its power goes much higher.

Coming from the north and west.
The winds shall raise the sea.
Bringing forth a final test.
Only passed with unity.
We are human,
but may face ruin.

When the land at last has drowned,
and our hubris is flotsam drifting by,
there’ll be another splitting sound,
as the last of mankind’s-wise,
hearts break,
and choose to fade, rather than stay,
despite all the greatness we’ve sewn.

If only we might see the future,
perhaps the foolest of us all would know,
how important be the suture,
we should now begin to sew.
For we have all done our damage,
a grave disadvantage.
And though we cannot take the blame,
for having been born lame,
as long as we embrace our past
correct mistakes,
we might be in line for
a dying breath’s, paid fine.

Or else a day shall come to pass,
when Human-kind’s forgot, at-last,
and whether alone or together, en-masse,
we’ll have long turned from present to past.
If only we might see the future.

If only we might see the future…

Poetry-Thing Thursday: The Ground Need Not Be Level

I will not go down with the ship,
but I will stand until every last man that can be, is evacuated.
The rest must understand I will send for them.
That my retreat will not be in vain.
That it is but to rally that I rise.

Easy to say,
when you’re not on the ground.
So keep disconnected, never plan to fall back.
Never retreat.
Always hold your ground.
Show them each step is a fight,
and they will not gain.
no matter even, if you lie dead.

Because they too, then,
will see their own wounds.
Forced to contend with them,
or their compounding effects,
will show they are only the more wounded.

Resist corruption.
Carve out its roots.
But accept the fear,
the worry of recursion,
for it is inevitable.

But remain disciplined,
for it tempers the fears,
turns peaks and troughs,
into pebbles beneath your boots.

For the ground need not be level,
if you are.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: How Indiscreet

Bluebirds do not sing,
but rather squawk
in early spring,
when separate from the flock.

How like them we are,
even if we don’t notice.
How high they’ve set the bar,
and how high we are above this.

To say we are not animals,
is to gravely miss the point,
for all of us become irrationals,
when we, with blood, anoint.

Whether sentient or intelligent,
we’re bound to make mistakes.
Fly from the diligent.
Fail to apply the brakes.

Still the bluebirds do not sing,
they merely squawk,
when encircled by a ring,
of steel and domed frock.

Yet we do it ourselves,
with steel and wood, concrete
leaving our hearts on shelves,
how indiscreet.

VIN 3- Out with the Bathwater

When you call a professional to do a job. You tell them what you want. They do their best to compliment you. Ultimately, you get what you need. You will never get all you want, but you can get at least some of it, with what you need.

That is why you call a professional. Not for the labor; for the knowledge of that labor.

What some people seem to forget is that this is the very basis of economics; fulfillment at a premium. The premium itself decides the investment. Not t’other way ’round.

Incidentally, this principle is the basis of all evolution, often going by the common name of “competition.”

Competition is at the very basis of nature. The strive for finite resources is what drives evolution. Success and reproduction through environmentally-honed adaptation; AKA, Natural Selection.

In the case of a market, the selection is for those bold, innovative, intelligent, or any combination enough therein, to take proper, calculated risks. The kind with large and lasting results.

For a species whose intellect has completely removed not only itself, but other species from the natural order of things, what direction are we to take?

Humanity as we knew it, had examples. It had the Romans. Greeks. The Mongols and Ottoman, and the Crusades, and everything between, in, and around. The dark ages. Slavery. Oppression. Warfare. Genocide.

Humanity had it all, good and bad, to learn from.

Yet here we sit, post-digital children torn between human and post-human. We have no great horizons, because we have only great horizons. The problem is, those horizons can only be seen if we survive to them.

Right now, we are newborn infants in bathwater. If we are not careful with our current and succeeding generation, we will fail to thrive. Ultimately consigning ourselves to be cast out with it.

Humanity is in dangerous need of deep reflection.