The Haunted Computer and the Android Pope

Electric Pope/Computer fret

Where stuff gives up its ways and means

And emptiness fills in-betweens

Where label-less the mystery goes

In veils and prides of cosmic snows

Which rationed out by God beyond

Are light-year sea and lake and pond

Which shallow are but drowned in deeps’

Computer mind that finds and keeps

But cannot answer final thirst:

Which, egg or chicken, arrived first?

The primal motive hides in stars

Where astronauts in rocket cars

Will never solve it, so bright Pope

With fireworks inside for hope,

With tapes for tripes, A.C.-D.C.

Speaks metaphors from Galilee

And bakes good bread and serves a wine

That bloods the soul most super-fine

And emptiness fills up with words

Like flocking flights of firebirds

That move and motion, merge and mull

So men gone empty now are full.

Yet, all mysterious remains,

So man stands out in ghosting rains

And makes umbrellas with machines

Half-satisfied with in-betweens,

His life twin mysteries given hope

By Ghost Computer, Android Pope.

Go Not with Ruins in Your Mind (#ulink_f64fb7ce-0930-5d61-8e60-0e352b8388fb)

Go not with ruins in your mind

Or beauty fails; Rome’s sun is blind

And catacomb your cold hotel

Where should-be heaven’s could-be hell.

Beware the temblors and the flood

That time hides fast in tourist’s blood

And shambles forth from hidden home

At sight of lost-in-ruins Rome.

Think on your joyless blood, take care,

Rome’s scattered bricks and bones lie there

In every chromosome and gene

Lie all that was, or might have been.

All architectural tombs and thrones

Are tossed to ruin in your bones.

Time earthquakes there all life that grows

And all your future darkness knows,

Take not these inner ruins to Rome,

A sad man wisely stays at home;

For if your melancholy goes

Where all is lost, then your loss grows