I want to know who'll pay me
For all the work I do
And for enquiry reason
I had became a jew
I ate Ayurveda spices
I balanced Doshas mine
And now it very true, it is
That I feel kinda fine
Which science proves it's valid
My weapon Curcuma
All spices weapons fired
We study with the STA
STA is Supercomputer
It operates the PEs
The PE is Processing Element
Pathologies's death
Psychology of medicine
Shall not placebo be
Add butter and the honey
And you from slavery free
The real natural processing
In body does occur
The world enriched with nutrients
Resilient to foe
The cloves, cumin and cinnamon
Depression is dissolved
The acids shall amine the be
All dead cells are the old
Renew, calm down, invigorate
The energy mandate
The nervous system healing
Because I spices ate
Both, my life pump and my quarter kilo supercomputer sat together, smoking the cigarettes of boredom, waiting for the hit in life to arrive, not sure what to do, when suddenly, a gush of wind brought a red ballon flying accross the pair of caneras stuck on my face, and sparked a sensation of curiosity in the boredom struck brain.
The cameras locked on, the feet carried 50 kilos of flesh and bones and a 10 kilo soul in the direction of the gushing wind, like a small child would, just to gwt the feel..........
The year is 2037.
I am lying inside a tall glass tube,
bathed in a soft green glow
in a secret quantum lab in China.
Tiny nanobots flood my capillaries,
rewriting my biology,
fusing flesh with code.
My brain—
once just a sponge of thoughts—
now a supercomputer.
Professors in white coats leap with joy.
“You’re the first of your kind,”
they cry,
“the first superhuman on Earth!”
When I wake,
everything has changed.
I see in multiple dimensions.
I think a trillion thoughts at once.
I can be in New York, Tokyo, and Mars—
simultaneously.
To others, it looks like magic.
To me, it’s normal.
But something inside feels... strange.
I move faster than time,
but I miss the slow touch of a human heartbeat.
I solve equations no one else can,
but forget the taste of laughter.
They built me for progress,
but I lost my peace.
Now I travel the stars,
but I no longer know
where home is.
Mortality is the sinking feeling
of checking a clock on a Saturday
and wondering where the hours went.
Mortality is the broken cry
of love unrequited.
Mortality is standing in a library
and knowing there's far too much
for you to read it all.
Mortality is hoping that you'll be a footnote
in the databanks of some future supercomputer
that gets referenced once in a blue moon.
Mortality is a rich crimson rose
grown from tears and muck.
Mortality is worth the pain.
21 January 2023
Ever since I was born, you were there to watch me
A father full of pride, even I would agree
You took care of me, countless 24/7's
You barely even slept, not ten or eleven
You raised me in a dad's unconditional love
Sometimes strict, sometimes stern, but peaceful like a dove
To young me you were like a supercomputer
Helping with my homework, no one's way cooler
I forgot to mention my element'ry times
How we did my math problems, we solved like crimes
You were fond of using letters a,b, and c
When all I could figure were x,y, and z
You honed my talents, in music to be exact
A gift inside of me you've managed to unwrap
Something I really learned from you and your guitar
Experiences and thoughts way before trojan war
I'm afraid that my poem is coming to an end
There's much to tell you that I cannot comprehend
The towering number of the things you have done
Happy Father's Day my dear father and loved one.
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