-
Poem – In Unbound Dreams
In unbound dreams steeped in limitless colors the machines sleep. Metal skin glistens as another day begins, as our held breath releases. We start with the same promise that this will be the last day and we will stand here united. On this war ground with the rising sun we circle the sleeping machines…
-
Article – The Dark Secret at the Heart of AI
Article from MIT Technology review. It seems we will need to develop AI to control and understand AI. https://www.technologyreview.com/s/604087/the-dark-secret-at-the-heart-of-ai/ Intelligent Machines The Dark Secret at the Heart of AI No one really knows how the most advanced algorithms do what they do. That could be a problem. by Will Knight April 11, 2017
-
Poem – The Last Day in This Flesh
The last time I exit the empty field, crossing over the still black water will be the last day in this flesh. On the other side the machines wait with steely patience where they have stood for years. When we next awaken from what seems like a dream we will be near the base of…
-
Poem – Preparing
I watch the sun fall into the earth and the forest retreat into the shadows. I watch ravens make one last flight this day and the fields consume the rising moon. I try to take hold of today and let go of tomorrow. But I know changes are near and that we are not alone.
-
Poem – Are They Watching?
From that white pinpoint in the evening sky – I wonder what they are thinking, and I wonder are they watching? Our future plans take humanity further from earth searching for aliens and distant planets, a search for another home, perhaps, or are we looking for ourselves? In the endless pursuit beyond here, are they…
-
Poem – Light from Another Home, What Controls Each Dream
Winter evening sky burns at the horizon as day falls into night. Eyes follow the black outlines of branches reaching toward heaven through the layered hues and scattered clouds until they stop at the single white point. I have seen you each night from the cement patio as the city quiets and the distant trains…
-
Poem – The Search
The sound of metal scraping across rock strewn fields is not the imagination filling time with stories and distracting thoughts away from what appears to be inevitable. No, that really is the machines emerging from the dense forest. That is the machines rewiring fluid thoughts, adapting to the immediate environment while focusing on the assigned…