In the half-light, at the edge of a small town, a once useful Artificial Intelligence has been dumped in someone else’s back garden. It is trying to right itself but its balance has gone, along with several of its other key functions. It really has had a horrible week.
Tag: poetry
Small Town Films Part 1
The morning arrived but the daylight never came, the sky stayed a deep red and clouds rolled over slowly, hour after hour. Everyone stayed inside, even the old broken Al in the back garden and the urban wildlife of the nights before were nowhere to be seen.
ָיָה | Chayah — The Hollyridge Trail
Three sunrises ago I left on a solitary journey across Hollyridge Trail, hauling a heavy load of a million thoughts, all of them racing to find some reason.
Moving my feet across ancient clay soil, I discovered red, gray, and black rock formations changing shades to revere the every movement of the sun high above us.
My eyes saw in the language of Picasso, because although his soul was Spanish, his lasting inspiration was color.
My eyes absorbed the rich color of the landscape in the language of Langston Hughes, because his poetic verses freed color from bondage.
My thoughts spoke in the language of Gertrude Stein, because my mind like her language was for a time free from patriarchy.
My dreams spoke in the surrealist imagination of Salvador Dali, because the lines between life and dream, reality and imagination had disappeared.
The mountains delivered me with a single thought, life is as irrational as it is beautiful to love.