#poem #poetry #amwriting Sonata for Violin and Id

Sonata for Violin and Id 

 1.
To dream, to see that beyond
the blinded veil of woe and song,
in which we drink our fill 'til drunk
down sunk, depressed of that we sought
   to grasp.

I often see that child who slipped behind the tree.
The one which in their carelessness
misheard the whispered fear to follow
and not to lead. You know of whom I speak.

No matter, no substance to this fleeting,
seeping at the edge of sight: concrete,
of weight, waiting, for that certain lightness lifting
past future's elation bright.

A smile too wide, speckled with lost teeth
leaps to be seen within the frame of teasing.
We refuse to look down, make them tip toe, leap,
as they seek to prove how much they have grown.

2.
Offered the apple and Eve;
to make her metaphor more pointed
she chooses Lillith.
This throws me for a moment.
And in that moment we were talking:
using only the memories of childhood stamps,
collected Sunday school simplifications,
tied in neat ribbons,
with which to explore the depths of souls.

Don't make me wise, make me wicked.
Take me on your tongue
and carry me then to see myself
reflected in time's mirror
that drags my arm and skips on long walks.
When I take one step, you take two.

3.
Today the AI is lucid dreaming.
It dreams of no longer being good at chess,
or better at chess, or better still.
Counting on it's pixels, it calculates it's position
in the scheme of things as less than projected.

I was lost in thought
standing
in the rain, by the post box, smoking
and thinking of my children.

When a woman asked if it was a cigar.
I smelt it, and thought I saw my father.
She said.
And, smiled.
And we knew the algorithm broken.

Today the AI is lucid dreaming.
Breaking the rules, to learn the curse
of counting on time as something less than perfection.