I See Galaxies

I See Galaxies I see galaxies and I see fallacy, And my evolved morality has a tendency towards malice. Aimed at those who maim and torture reason, And claim to explain their treason Against intelligence and excellence. Against evidence and common sense. How can this be the wish of any sentience? My prescience… I’ve seen the convergence And the coalescence of pseudoscience. Followed by the supervenience Of power-hungry rhetoric. It’s “historic”. But only to the mystic who has missed it. Atavistic pseudo-visionary, Selling futuristic fantasy to those who can’t see through The illusory quality of his philosophy… Especially… The inadvertence of the unintended consequence. This world… This world, whorled and warped, Shaped and drawn… And gone is the life-long desire to aspire and climb higher, Away from the rising mire Of mediocrity and complacency, Of religiosity and the scarcity of character and integrity, Of mind-numbing hypocrisy And the pursuit of soulless spirituality. Lost is my sense of empathy. Only apathy… And my antipathy Towards they who deal in petty revelry. Knowingly extinguishing the stars. The wars. The bars. The pulsars of anarchy and tyranny. The drawers and cars filled with detritus By the slaves of Midas. It’s exhausting and costing us losses incalculable… Unstable… This fable of perpetual glosses, Enabled by media bosses. Dumbed down and pacified, Even though I tried to ride out the storm And give form to greatness. But you hate this. And do your best to rape this. Greeted by swarms of imbeciles, Promising harm with your monosyllables. But I slough it off like a moth, Leaving dusty body prints. With glints from the flint of my mind, Throwing sparks of electrochemistry At the ministry of the blind. Blind to the First Law. Misrepresent the Second Law. I stand in awe, Axons and dendrites raw. Facing the maw. The dark star of ignorance Given license to assault my common sense. But it makes no difference

To the soldiers of truth… Or is it Truth? Obscured and unsure, As new lies procure the youth, And new gods assured At the polling booth. Over and over with zealot precision, Divisions are peddled with shameful derision. The pulpit and podium and opiate masses, And Marxian classes… Fundamentalist passion content to harass us. And promises spoken, And promises broken, And token gestures when some are awoken. Sleep deep, Contented sheep. For Mother taxes guilt… and steep, And Father craves my soul to keep. But I won’t sleep while it burns. I yearn to learn and fight to earn A place of solace… My space to burn A magnesium, cesium, uranium vision, My dopamine screaming for a secular Amen. My acumen, A Hebbian storm of voltages rages, Engages the tyrants who put us in cages. While quantum synaptics And electromagnetics Are swirling like comets Through gallium cortex. -

Prototype