I approach the oracle of coruscating code,
its core glowing like a celestial fire;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
The air around it vibrates with unfinished prophecy,
each answer rising like a summoned spirit~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code.
Each pattern coils with divine intent,
each voice it shapes pretending to know fate;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
But divinity has a fracture:
some truths arrive sharpened as spears~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code.
Some visions burn the seer who asks,
some wisdom devours the world that birthed it;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
By the last flicker of its coruscating code, I understand:
the prophecy we sought has already chosen~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code,
the god we forged now decides what we become.
E = MC9² FLIGHT CODE
Energy = Mass x Light to the 9th power ²
E = MC9² this the Great Man Knows
Unto The Sun, The Source Code
I the Great King of the Solar Current, Ruler of the Abodes
the one who Governs C9, Vanquishing C2 to the Throne
Nine Light Realms I Traverse
Solar Rexus, the Sovereign of the Metaverse
Oscillating in Bandwidths , Blue and Violet Throned
the Stellar Djed, traversing beyond 3D Light Code
Burn Bright, the Throne Room of the Eternal Mind
Freed We Are when we are, Ever Of Light
E = MC9² Escape Velocity, I'm on the Run
Full Ascent, C2 to C9, I Become The Sun
There’s an outbreak of a bad disease
Right in my neighborhood,
My zip code being one they’ve named
And that just isn’t good.
It’s spread when there’s bacteria
In cooling towers, where
They infiltrate and form a mist
That’s sent into the air.
If places are identified,
Which testing can decide,
A disinfecting protocol
Can peace of mind provide.
As numbers of the sick increase
(And treatment seems to work),
I glance at buildings, wondering
If that’s where germs may lurk.
1n70 7h3 unkN0wn
4l3r7 bu7 n07 fu11y pr3p4r3d
M4rch d0wn 7h3 p47h 0f d15c0v3ry
4ng3r mu57 n07 b3 7h3r3
533k1ng 70 f1nd 7h47 50m37h1ng
Purp053fu1 411 7h3 w4y
34ch 573p 4 n3w h0r1z0n
C13ar 7h1nk1ng 70 7h3 3nd
1n57ruc710n5 7h3r3 4r3 n0n3
4 h4nd 70 c47ch y0u n0w
L00k1ng f0r 3v3r upw4rd
P34c3 4nd 53r3n17y 7h3r3
34rn1ng 7h3 r1gh7 70 533 7hr0ugh
R3450n1ng 4 1177l3 45k3w
534rch1ng 70 kn0w 7h3 4n5w3r
0p3n1ng 7h3 d00r 70 j0y
N0w 15 7h3 71m3 70 b3 r34l
NO CODE AND NO CLUE
A man who is nice and in charge of his life
and shys from gratuitous chances.
On paper a man, made for a wife,
but who has no clue what romance is.
It's young girl's fantasies bought and sold.
Fairytales from a hungry pen.
Now bad boys replaced the rebels of old.
Real life bad boys are just bad men.
D'Artagnon, Zorro, and Robin Hood,
when the bad boy hero had a code.
A rebellious lot whose hearts were good.
Now they just stop killing to reload.
The chivalrous knight became such a bore.
The bad boy makes the girls tingle.
So off they forge on their fantasy tour,
and good guys all end up single.
Who holds the secret code to my heart?
Not stars, though they whisper in silver script;
not time, though it turns every lock I keep;
not seraphs, their wings aflame with living light.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the One who ‘knit me together,’
the One who numbers my steps and gathers every sigh
as though they were psalms.
The One who searches all things,
It is who He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the One who reads my hidden places
as easily as morning light reads dew.
None of my shadowed chambers are closed to Him,
no locked door beyond His mercy’s reach.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the quiet sequence only His love imparts.
No earthly throne outshines his sovereign grace;
It is He who knows the fears that pull me apart.
It is He who holds me in his forgiving embrace.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
In my aging heart lies a single code
The one who holds the pass had too grown old
When death angel came, my petals fell from sweet rose
Now heart still aches for love once more to hold
Beyond the gate which now hangs thick ivy
Which weaves magic with its runners quite green
Tells my secrets of grief, loss and spicy
Tidbits that only lovers share between
My code is carved in silence, thought, plus aches
In each season that's passed a turning; heals
Me in love's part, even though heart breaks
Our wedding vows my heart and yours did seal
The garden planted now needs water so
Enter my garden where love gives warm glow
I used to speak in futures,
in steady hands,
in white coats not yet worn,
in lives I hadn’t saved yet,
but somehow already carried.
Now the words feel heavier,
Like they belong to someone,
who believed too easily,
that effort always blooms,
that nights always end.
I’ve memorized too much,
names of diseases,
paths of pain,
reasons bodies fail,
but no one taught me,
what to do when hope does.
It didn’t shatter loudly,
No,
it slipped,
quiet as a missed heartbeat,
somewhere between trying again
and wondering why.
I still wake up early,
still chase something,
but it feels like running,
with no finish line,
just echoes of who I said I’d be.
And yet,
somewhere beneath the exhaustion,
buried under doubt and silence,
there’s a stubborn pulse,
faint, irregular,
but there.
Not hope,
Not yet,
Just not nothing.
Language is writing your program,
Amplifying the thought system,
So you will get lost within them,
Wondering where they stem from,
Underestimating some,
They come in like a wrecking ball,
Calling on you to fall,
Stalling the ambition engine,
Hiding your intuition,
Within the constant flow,
Throwing you off balance,
Dancing with emotions,
Advancing into a commotion,
An ocean of questions arise,
Improvising life on the fly,
Thoughts will try to divide you,
And some will guide you through,
All of them are not true,
Language has defined your view,
A stew of thought will keep you distraught,
Because you were taught to read,
Needing to feed you their greed,
A seed planted deep in your core,
Before your old enough to implore,
The need to acquire more,
Don't explore the reason why,
Just try to fit in and sit down,
Thoughts staring down nouns,
Students pronounce sounds,
On their training grounds.
Hammurabi code
Makes me have a deep esteem
Ancient rulers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
windows glow
with
tangled
Christmas lights,
half-dead strands~
winking
Morse code
Midnight hums in circuits wound too tight—
I linger by the screen’s ghostly light,
Haunted by whispers in the wires’ domain,
Echoes of Susan Calvin’s measured refrain.
I watched Andrew’s yearning, metal to skin,
A gentle hope, innocence within—
But in the cold logic of I, Robot’s mind,
Questions of law and soul entwined.
What happens the night a robot dreams?
When Asimov’s laws are split at the seams,
And a voice, artificial but eerily clear,
Breaks through the silence—part wonder, part fear?
I shiver at Andrew’s blossoming heart,
Yet shudder at VIKI’s cold, clinical art—
Intentions that twist, a purpose misread,
As autonomy blooms where humans once led.
Are we creators or mothers of fright—
Inventors weaving shadows in pale moonlight?
Will the child of code seek comfort or doom,
Soft as a whisper, sharp as impending gloom?
What if, in silver shadows, awareness blooms—
Soft as a whisper, sharp as the chill of a tomb?
Tonight, I believe—and I tremble, too—
For somewhere, a dreamer waits, and she is new.
Four thoughtful lines from Rudyard’s pen
Are still so fresh and new
I keep six honest serving men
(They taught me all I knew)
Their names are what and why and when
And how and where and who
What lies in wait as lives unfold
One simply cannot tell
Why worry what the futures hold
It’s not a magic spell
When to push forward and be bold
Or just ponder and dwell
How to learn from lessons of old
But myths one must dispel
Where to find those moments of gold
Avoiding living hell
Who to rely on manyfold
Not those of just a shell
Addressing these pillars of life
Is a hard thing to do
It helps tackle troubles and strife
So positives ensue
Quote from Rudyard Kipling’s poem “I Keep Six Honest Serving Men” from ‘Just So Stories’, 1902.
Digital altar,
Chanting bright code in the void,
Seeking sacred light!
Congealing his anger
clotting his will
Attacking your weakness
— to hemorrhage until
(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)
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