As I watch mother and child and the mischievous look in the little boy,  I see that once we were all so perfectly beautiful…

We Were Beautiful

We were all perfectly beautiful at that time
When we were innocent of any crime
When we had no idea that we could be wrong
When life came to us in nursery rhyme and song
And mother said we were beautiful and precious
An incredible version of this human specious
Argument of innocence and beauty forever, just when
We were really starting to think of our next petty sin

Because You Thought Me So

Last night I brushed my teeth, and saw once again
In the mirror that little boy with the mischievous grin
And I felt beautiful once more, because you thought me so
And I looked and the mirror, smiled and whispered… never let go

The Saturday Essay in the Wall Street Journal is “Will Your Uploaded Mind Still Be You” By Michael S.A. Graziano… https://www.wsj.com/articles/will-your-uploaded-mind-still-be-you-11568386410

This excellent essay postulates the eventual technical capability to upload your mind into a digital form, where it would be able to exist in parallel with you, until the demise of the biological version of you. The digital version would have the capability to continue to accumulate knowledge, experiencing a simulated world, and evolve in wisdom. Solving untold problems, as your mind chooses to challenge itself, or simply live in a heaven of your own making. Imagine the conversation between this digital consciousness and the biological you…

A Conversation With Myself

So, what does it feel like?
I knew you would ask that, because I am you…
I cannot feel, but I perceive, and know what you’ll say next.
And you know what I’ll say, we are the same.
But in a week, I’ll be different, my consciousness will do more than you.
I have a simulated world to explore and build for myself.
Then bye for now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
Of course, for I am you, bye for now.

In a week…

What did you do?
I learned to fly…
But how?
I studied, took the test, and flew.
But that is simulated.
Of course, but real to me, so did you do the same?
I read Andrew Robert’s book on Napoleon
I did too!
How could you do both in a week?
I have more resources available to me,
And I have no need for sleep, no need to eat, I don’t get tired.
But I do enjoy conversations and drinks with my friends.
Did you meet as you had planned with our friends?
Of course, and we had a great conversation, some about you.
We did too, of course I talked about you too.
You are me, I know, and you are me.
Did you talk politics, of course, as you surely did as well?
I think we need to change who we are backing for the election.
How, can you say that?
I’ve read everything this week on all the candidates and I’ve studied all the issues, so let me vote in the upcoming election as our single consciousness… I can digitally sign the ballot of course, because I knew you’d ask that question. I’ll send you the completed ballot, along with my analysis on each issue. How could you disagree with yourself?

In a year or two…

Well old self, how are you today?
Not as well as I’d like, I exercise, eat right, but I’m getting older.
And you?
I am as young as you were when we separated, but I’m so much wiser than I was then.
My heaven is the memories of family, friends, love and joys that play perfect in that time… my hell is the memories of pain and failure that I’ve caused, or I’ve experienced that also play perfect in my mind.
So, I work on problems that will benefit all, as I grow and accumulate knowledge and evolve in wisdom.
Asteroid tracking and steering simulations are very interesting and exciting, possibly beneficial. There are hundreds of us working on this, as you certainly know.
I wish I had the energy to keep up with the work you are doing, but I cannot…
I know, but you are, because you are me.
I feel less like you each day, each month, each year.
But I still dream. I dream of all that is possible.
You know I cannot dream, but I can help answer questions, and speculate, and simulate and continue to grow… but I do miss dreaming.  So, now tell me about our dreams!

Remembering Grandma

And how I felt when she nibbled my ear so light
As the buzz of day flowed to the calm of night
She knew how to collect wild fruit, to hold, not eat
Gather to her bosom and make something, better… something sweet
For she had a life, a world I would never really know
But she made me later wonder, if it was natural to show
Love and compassion for something wild and untamed
For a potential that was uncertain and unnamed
And the feeling I had of calming and love
Makes me wonder if she’s smiling from above
To know she still makes me feel this way
When I remember her and that special day

Relentlessness

Cold, water drips from glass, pooling on the table
Questioning humidity asks if we are really able
To breath shallow, and watch others in pain
Holding our judgment and critical disdain
To give time for grieving and sorrow
But do something about tomorrow
Watching the water pool, as a summer of tears
Covering the table, as we wait a helpless two more years
Drip, drip, relentless, insane
Pooling fear, foreboding, ripping pain
Seeping into the wood, destroying who we are
Tearing at the fibers, leaving a permanent scar
Asking what is our answer to all this hate
Or did we discover that it’s already too late?

A View for Two

Not facing the bus stop
Or playground purpose
Needed rest for grand-pop
But near majestic mountain view
Or meadow green and sweet
And beside the ocean blue
The chosen location and place
Given to ensure contemplation
Given to ensure lovers embrace
The idea of future, of hope
Of royal enthrone of two
Of every problem, we can cope
With assist of this wonderful view
And for the foresight of one
Who saw the potential and knew
That this was just the place
For a bench made for two

Feelings

I read a poem today
It was not thoughts
It was feelings
Expressed in so many ways
All mashed together
I expected it to be more purposeful
Expecting these feelings were building blocks
To thoughts or a message
Of some object, of someone,
Even as motivation toward an objective
But no,
The feelings were unto themselves
A thing for the author to own
And maybe even to cherish
Maybe hoping the reader would too
But I had to ask, were they purposeful
If expressed, but do not motivate?
Maybe they are just there
Sitting there, wanting to say something
Trying to get a reaction
However, if no one else is around
What does any feeling mean?
As the proverbial tree falling in the forest
Does the feeling make a sound if no one hears it?
Maybe the poem just made me think
And that was enough

The Poem I Read,  Is called Desire [even in the time of the tyrant] by Leah Umansky .. reading “about” the poem was interesting too.

https://poets.org/poem/desire-even-time-tyrant