Poetry-Thing Thursday: Rise!

I look out,
only to see,
so many people,
fighting to be free.

Whether of chains,
or labels,
the shackles are real,
invisible.

I look up,
only to find,
all the unfortunate,
are all the same kind.

Suppressed and oppressed,
by wealthy elite,
those of power,
whether you believe it or not,
accept it.

Only then,
may it change.
Only then,
may we stop the rain.
Then,
and only then,
may we bring an end
to the pain.

For all those who’ve come,
and those yet to still–
The ones this world,
truly belongs to.

So if you do nothing else,
do at least this:
Rise!

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VIN9- Digital Souls

Our world, and our people, are dying.

We have no place for Seers now. No place for Shamans or thinkers. We have only shackled slaves and the chains that bind them. Their masters, whom blind us with lies, propaganda, and misinformation.

Our psyches are batter and bruised by advertisements and media– by Humans, yes. Yet simultaneously, not; for these masters are wealthy beyond remaining society combined; ignorant beyond capable for Human-kind. And they are something more and less as a result; an avaricious blob-monster collectively formed of each individuals impressive atavism and hate.

Bound and blind, the rest of us are their slaves and cattle. Force-fed only the choicest cuts of corruption that invade and liquefy our minds and bodies, we suffer eternally for but the momentary hint of flavor on our consumers tongue.

Step back a moment and consider that again:

Humans are stuffed full of poison their whole lives. Then battered, basted, cooked, and digested. Their existence, nothing but suffering; only to serve the momentarily vain and futile hope of satisfaction– elusive and illusive as it is– to some amorphous, Cthulian-scale Great Oz.

But in the end, the creatures behind the curtain are men, women. Human. They bleed. They burn. They breathe and die. Somewhere, at even the very heart of their total corruption, they remain but frightened children forced to cope with changing realities.

Ultimately, they’ve failed, yes. But there are many paths to success. None exclude failure. The aforementioned creatures are ignorant to this, but ignorance is cause for neither ridicule nor alarm. It is, in fact, wholly human.

But so is knowledge. Its power, eternal. With proper application, it can foretell the eternally distant future.

And yet, we’ve no place for Seers anymore. No place for Shamans, or Mystics, or creatures part-Human and part Universal-conduit. There is no excuse for this.

The digiverse– that metaphysical hallucination of postdigital civilization we inhabit, has room for everything, every one. Big and small. Bad and good. So long as a thing, or its concepts can be digitized, it can exist in that realm in harmony.

But we need Digital Seers, Digital Mystics; people understanding not only code, but the spirits inhabiting it. If only those conceptual ones, dictating via the force exerted on the system as a whole. Humans require digital-to-analog converters for their souls.

Only then can the Seers emerge and guide us. After all, what good is technology– a thing meant to ease Human burdens, when a burden itself? Whatever the answer, certain rules are clear: do not poison the well, lest you harm your own. We are doing one or the other, but allowing both.

It must end.