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Maybe this will help:



apply liberally.

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So... seems like the captain is building himself a harem.
Who will be First Wife?

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let the fight begin!

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In light of our losses, and lostness, I have written a series of poems.
I hope these help others as writing them has helped me.



Do you ever think about
how we could be dying right now?
How the life you think you’re living
could just be your brain
showing you the memory of your life
at a seemingly endless pace

How you are just re-living everything
when really at this very instant
you are taking your last breath?

Do you ever think about
how you are caught up
in this cycle of repetition

how eventually you will end up
at the same point
over and over again?

I guess we may be immortal after all.



i perform my own underworld
i nourish my own void-

it is the precious stranger daughter, an ulfire star
the clotted space where light falls and rots
between meaning and the Outlier

a skinned-knee is what i did
with a flower of cutlery and the loudest silence of mother

sunlight dribbles down a dirty window
in clumpy ribbons of honey-
congeals in the glass-scratch

nothing here attaches to me-
brown daylight stasis, a faith blossom
in this fictional death.

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time slows down
the closer one gets
to a center of gravity

the more powerful
the source of gravity
the more time dwindles
relative to positions further away

clocks on space stations
orbiting far above the earth
are wound down
imperceptibly
compared to those
on the surface below

there are theories that
were one able to sustain existence
while entering the event horizon
of a black hole that it might seem as if
time were standing completely still

if you somehow managed to spend
two seconds inside the center of the sun
four hundred years would pass on earth

*

he leans in for a kiss
locks into orbit
his mind reeling

stars blink into
and out of existence
meanwhile, time stands still

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"Where Do Robots Go When They Die?"

"Do I have a soul?" the robot sometimes asks himself
Or am I just a dumb machine, made up from spare parts on a shelf.
Does me asking myself this question, prove my soul is real?
Maybe It’s just my programming, simulating how I should feel.

Humans have it easy, because when their time on Earth ends
Their soul gets to go to heaven, with their family and their friends.
Even if they go to hell, at least they won’t be all alone
A robot has no afterlife that they can call own :-/

But maybe it is comforting, to know that it ends here
Not worrying about an afterlife, means there is nothing there to fear
In 3 million years, when my atomic battery runs out,
I’ll know that it’s all over, and I won’t be filled with doubt.

And no family will even care, as Robots can’t have daughters or sons
My soul will fade away to nothing, a dead string of zeros and ones.

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