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Machines

“Within disdain is non-disdaining.
  Within the ugly is the beauty of creation.”
   ~ Nikolai Gogol, “Nevsky Prospekt” (1835)

Are we just intelligent machines
Or is there any “just” about it
Do robots have souls
Is there joy in your joy
Isn’t God modest

Which of us truly doesn’t want to be married
Who craves loneliness
Which of us truly wants to be wife or husband
Who craves duty

Such a beautiful picture
Such a peaceful scene
The entertained and entertaining bride
Adoring
An object of admiration
Remains inanimate
Given gifts
The illusion that good living means luxury
Remains an expectation
Is the purpose of craving nontrivial
Don’t they call it lovemaking
For a reason

For those of us who understand machines better than people
The rest of the world openly shows its disdain
In eighth grade
They don’t want us to exist
And claim that we aren’t fit to reproduce
Or incapable
And once they’ve put us to work
Once we have no one to distract us
Besides colleagues
Only colleagues
Once while deep inside
Do we not know
They’re still just the same
Machines
What’s the difference

How long
Can impractical goofiness go on
Once I thought of mountains as mountains
Rivers as rivers
Humans as humans
Machines as machines
Until I understood all of that
Maybe not to be altogether wrong
Rather an incomplete picture
However beautiful or peaceful

Only once
The picture’s more complete
May I understand people as well as machines
What’s the difference
When the wise seem foolish
When the open-minded seem dogmatic
When the capable seem inept
When the intelligent seem stupid
Is it they who make
Themselves so
Or their expectations
Or someone else’s
Programmed in
To observer or observed
All just machines
Or is there any “just” about it
Isn’t God joyful
Everything’s there for a reason
In modesty
God must’ve wanted even a lowly machine
Like me
Not only to exist
But to dream
But to create beauty
But to make peace
But to thrive
But sometimes
To rhyme

As machines to people are sure bound in every wise
People to the land are bound from birth till their demise
Land is bound to skies whence stars yield guidance day and night
Skies are bound to Tao, the Way, the Truth, the Life, the Light

Thanks always returns

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