tuesday, july 16

the world is complex, complicated,
complicating - a maelstrom of ineradicable
contradictions and corrupted motions
an infinite hall of broken mirrors

the world is simple and may be modeled
the machinery reduces to basic motions and
particular instances of the universal
all yields to seeing eyes and steady hands
given time and hands to the task

within the static, no pattern
within the patterns, no purpose
between all shapes and boundaries,
only the murderous illusion of harmony

within all things a unity,
between all systems a coherence,
through all specifics
the golden thread of the general

abstraction now tears at the edges of all
that moves or breathes, automation
overwhelms the bounds of a system drowning
in its own heat; the powers you have built
consume without regard to natural limit,
lend force to the will of tyrants, unspool
into madness: an apocalypse unfolds in
an epoch you could understand only just enough
to end

there's no way out but through
no hope against what we have unleashed
but in what we have unleashed
no freedom but in knowledge
no hope without freedom
no way to put the genie back
no way we could have kept it in the bottle

tags: topics/poem

p1k3 / 2013 / 7 / 16