Future Relics

Time drifts past this fast-paced world,

being rearranged in front of our very eyes –

no surprise, that the technological innovations

are meant to outlast the nature of humankind,

to the extent that this oblivion,

guided by the technocracy

is meant to supplant the divine plan,

instead of giving heed to the soul’s redemption,

they would rather confine our essence,

by downloading our sense of self

to an android, built to carry an ersatz replica

of the individual, whose “life” is prolonged,

while humans themselves become a relic.

God save us.

poem by a human being

image by A.I. Craiyon Generator

music by Audiomachine

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Golden Country

“I will restore My people Israel from captivity.”

– Amos 9:4

Across the generations,

our spirit has been crushed in every nation.

Even now, the Mother of Exiles

is becoming a harlot, like unto Babylon,

leaving us to ponder upon the wisdom of Daniel,

in acknowledgment of our status,

as exiles from the Promised Land.

The dreams of our ancestors,

who looked in hope toward

the distant shoreline of the Goldene Medina,

have been mixed with the alchemy of culture

that threatens to replace the values,

instilled in them by our heritage,

that brought inspiration in the Old Country.

The shift from a common bond,

amongst our own brethren

occurred in front of our very eyes,

as we were disguised from ourselves,

by the lies and factions we upheld,

rather, than honoring our covenantal unity

within the fractured diversity of K’lal Yisrael.

The aftermath

of an overemphasis on gashmiyos,

and a decreasing allegiance to ruchniyos,

coupled with assimilation into the melting pot,

is made visible in the diminishment

of our religious identity,

until the time when our renewal

is at hand.

Moon Shadows

The waxing and the waning of my life, through seasons past, and in anticipation of future journeys yet unknown, has me wondering, as I rest in limbo, while the world turns, where will my soul yearn for, when mountains crumble and seas roar. Only for Jerusalem, the Holy City that stands in stark relief against a background of world events, that spin around the epicenter; and the moon watches over the shadows of the night shifting across the continents.

These transitions, from a full-fledged pandemic to societal transformation; life in Ukraine as usual, shifted overnight into war, with millions of refugees fleeing their homes; the American status quo, undermined by a Woke Revolution; these are all more than the natural ebb and flow of the tides of civilization can bear. From one new moon to another, it is the uncertain nature of the half-moon, in between, that compels us to wonder, what will cause the whole world to careen, with the aftershocks of the next great cataclysm, whether, natural or man-made.

Saving souls from death,

the angels appear on earth,

to gather us home.

dVerse prompt

Eventually

Laziness is a foe,
that takes its toll in due time,
when regret seeps into the mind,
for not having done what is primary.
Like a shadow, always tugging at the sleeve,
reminding of what was neglected.
When will I get a-round to it?

Bare Earth

This barren landscape of the mind,

where time renews only those who have hope

in the ways of the ancient past

treaded by the sages of ages that still last

for the sake of the preservation of our heritage;

this bare earth, devoid of nourishment

soil, depleted by the wars that have wasted the land,

and the shores of distant beaches,

where the sands of time drift into the sea;

even the biosphere cries out on behalf of the world,

to renew the manifold aspects of creation –

mankind, the task begins with us,

through the renewal of the soul.

Remain Human

A fusing of mind and marrow

with electronic circuits and code,

offers no hope to the human soul,

only a dystopian merger.

Of A.I. and the divine blueprint of life,

these two are not meant to mix and match,

for only by standing in our own integrity,

can we discover our inner purpose.

Consider that we are already being primed,

to think in tandem with artificial thoughts,

generated by chatbots that aid the task

of thinking for ourselves.

It is a slippery slope toward a dystopian future,

wherein we begin to meld into something less human,

alienating ourselves from our essential being,

and causing a rift between our souls and G-d.

note to the reader:

this poem was written by a human, not a ChatBot;

although, the following image was generated by Craiyon A.I. Generator:

A.I. Defeats Itself

The following task was given to A.I. ChatGPT:

“Create a poem about the benefit of the human soul versus artificial intelligence.” Here is the result:

The human soul, a wondrous thing,

so much depth, so much to bring,

a source of joy, a source of pain,

a wealth of knowledge, A.I. can’t contain.

With empathy and compassion too,

the soul helps us understand what’s true,

our hopes, our fears, our innermost thoughts,

it’s what connects us, ties our knots.

Unlike machines of metal and steel,

the human soul can truly feel,

the warmth of love, the chill of fear,

the things that make our lives so dear.

We laugh, we cry, we hope, we dream,

we see the world in a different gleam,

we can imagine and we can create,

and shape our lives, our fate, our state.

For all its might, and all its brawn,

artificial intelligence can’t spawn,

the depths of soul, the human touch,

that makes us feel, that makes us clutch.

So let us cherish our souls so bright,

and all the beauty that comes in sight,

for in a world of machines and gear,

the human soul will always steer.

dVerse prompt

note to reader: I could not resist pitting A.I. against itself, as I am a staunch advocate of the human soul, and a decrier of the potential negative ramifications of A.I. Several weeks ago, I had a conversation about A.I. ChatGPT with a friend of mine, wherein we discussed its drawbacks upon the development of human beings. So, in responding to the poetry prompt to use A.I. to write a poem, I felt compelled to let A.I. describe its own limitations.

P.S. I made one change in the first stanza, ironically changing “we” to A.I.

And, an image from Craiyon A.I. Generator:

Chorus of Praise

A musical enterprise,

spanning out across the cosmos,

the ethereal songs of the stars,

unwavering in their praise

of the Creator.

We mimic their tribute

to the Almighty,

serving to uplift souls on earth,

who aspire to draw close

to the One True G-d.

dVerse prompt

(And sometimes we’re left speechless, with only the silent prayers of the heart).

The Light Will Prevail

This year’s a different thing, – I’ll not think of you.*

Even though, I see the future in light of the past. And, although, that light is dim, a brighter one awaits upon the distant horizon. For, when the darkness seems to pervade the very bones, and drenches the psyche with its wear and tear upon hope, the promise of a new dawn becomes even more than a promise – for the track record of the prophets guarantees the fulfillment.

In December 2019, there had been a foreboding in my soul, when the lights of the menorah were dimmed on Chanukah, by the news of another intrusion of darkness, meant to quench the light that has spanned generations; yet, will continue to prevail, until the final triumphant day. Redemption is at hand in every moment of our lives. This eternal insight is what sustains me.

*Charlotte Mew, “I so liked Spring”

dVerse prompt

Thoughts Coalesce

Being aware

of separating the essential

from the nonessential,

making the right choices for myself,

and recommendations for others,

when I am able to do so –

this should compel me

to also guard my thoughts,

and watch my behavior –

an outward reminder

of the inner struggle.

—– —– —–

Perhaps, this panoply

of food allergies that plague

millions of people, like myself,

and the current disarray of society

are indications of the sickness within,

the disengagement of ancient truths,

no longer held within us

as a foundation to build upon;

the mild-mannered way

the good-natured person,

succumbing to the rants and raves

of a wild contagion

manifest in cancel culture,

and tearing society

apart at the seams.

—– —– —–

And, who will stitch and sew

together the remnant

of our tattered psyches,

except for the One

who can mend broken hearts,

and heal the wounds

that plague the soul?

—– —– —–

All of these externalities –

chaos, division, a lack of compassion,

an overall tendency toward

an underlying pervasive nihilism –

an outer manifestation

of the inner malaise

that corrodes from within,

unless we begin to search ourselves

for the solace inside of us

that can only be found

where we make space

for He who dwells within us,

and invite Him in.