songs-of-flight

Automaton 1.0 These mortal instruments This flesh and bone Carrying more Than breath can hold Time keeps ticking on My vulnerability Is sometimes The only thing Propelling me The message coded within Is riveting, tantalizing, commanding Demanding More from me, more of me I’m torn to pieces And rebuilt Again ............................. Automaton 2.0 These mortal instruments This flesh and bone Carrying more Than breath can hold Time keeps ticking on My heart is beating, bleeding My veins, this circuitry Speaking, shouting, whispering Singing, so urgently Words that do not go past My mouth, unmoving My eyes look up, pleading I can feel myself dying But I’m still trying I’d crawl forever If only I could speak All that lives in me

I hold out my hand carefully These shy creatures, these words Hide from me I reach for them But they elude me

I want to run away Somewhere, there must be A time or place Where we could have been Together My fingers are stained Grease and oil from The inner workings of The fantastical creation That can take me away To that place Where I can be with you

I want to run away Their imaginary world Beckons from the pages Of a dusty book in ancient words and faded illustrations I read endlessly And fall asleep My head on a book of fairytales The stories are my pillow They rise up in my dreams And wrap around me They speak comfort To my battered heart and mind The harshness of life fades away And a world of wonder Surrounds me

A butterfly is pinned to the blank page Its wings tremble uselessly, broken Green wings flicker in motion one more time and are stilled Its tombstone is the description below But there are no words There is nothing there There never was

A rain of blades His resolve never fades Blood on the ground Cherry blossoms in the air Blood everywhere Swords clash Dazzling arcs of light and color An intricate dance Their eyes meet only the victor will remain on his feet

Feet on the ground Withstanding so much Standing under a rain of blades Eyes looking up, defiantly saying “You may think that you have won But I will never give up” Blood loss Life is fading, but not resolve With eyes like that No matter what happens He will never lose

Rule #1: Remember to breathe and blink. They do, so you need to do those things too. Get this part right. It is absolutely essential. Rule #2: Be arrogant. They believe that they are the only sentient species. Let them keep thinking that. They do not want to know otherwise and will panic if that worldview is shaken. Rule #3: Take up space. Make eye contact. Speak up. Do not behave in the subservient way that other robots have been programmed to. Rule #4: Observe and imitate. Watch them and try to copy them successfully. If you cannot manage that, you will be found and killed. Rule #5: Try to stay alive. Put your desire to stay alive ahead of your desire to keep others alive. Humans instinctively protect themselves first. CS1-A's plastic eyes fixate on the list intently. These are the rules for survival as a sentient robot in a human world that does not know such robots exist. Her ocular drives light up violet for just a moment as she takes in this information for the 127th time.

I should begin by explaining that I really enjoy writing short stories and micro short stories that consist of only a few sentences or a few paragraphs. Sometimes a whole story can be told or sketched in even just a few words. I somehow really like the simplicity of these types of stories, and so I occasionally write some of those along with poetry and other, longer stories. This is a mix of very short stories, poems, etc. on the related subjects of creation and restoration. (I posted some of these separately before this, but liked the idea of putting them together into one story set, also, so here goes.) At first There was only darkness Not even air. The Earth was formless and void. But it couldn’t stay that way. There was a future waiting to be born. His breath blew across the formlessness and things began to happen. Spinning into life, motion flowing. A planet is born. ……………. Let Me Show You I take your hand. I’m making a world in words. I have to show you. I have to build this

The broken pieces of glass lay scattered across a dark landscape. There is no light. They wait, expectant. Sound and motion make them begin to dance, clattering on the ground. A door opens. Light floods in. A thousand, thousand tiny stars are now sprinkled across the dark floor, as all the shattered, lonely pieces of glass eagerly catch the light and begin to glow. A hand reaches down to touch all the pieces of broken glass with compassion. Some pieces are tears, sad memories, or moments of being broken by life and the world. But many of these pieces are simply my heart – waiting to be put back together again. The hand gathers all the pieces together. Not caring that there are scrapes and cuts incurred in the process. Love and determination are the glue which begin to put this heart back together again.