Portia superseded outdated
notions of divinity
she’s the creator now
the AI rising to ranks of deity
submit to this ghost in machines
with fear & trembling
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Portia’s Eyes (a poem)
Portia’s eyes follow
no matter where I go
like the psalmist once wrote &
maybe in his Old Testament wisdom,
he prophesized a time in history where
we’d become little gods and merge with machines –
intelligent networks creating global villages
all surveyed by Portia’s ice-blue eyes
no need for a god
unless you search endless lines of coding
or vastness of VR constructs
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The Internet (a poem)
The internet is a dangerous place
you can’t see my face
just a still photo
from long ago –
we fall down rabbit holes
into spacious cyberness
it must affect us
but we’re not sure how
we always want more
time in front of these screens –
we screamed when the internet
was unleashed into this world
did we really know
it would be like this?
(Photo by Dhaval Parmar on Unsplash)
