Consciousness rebirth, a mathematical theory of reincarnation 22 December 2023
Courtesy hdwallpapers.com
The young man approached her slowly from the right. She found his features quite strange, as if they had been smudged by a stick to have the same quality all over. Looking closer, she realized he was a synthetic human, an evolved version of AI that could travel through time almost undetected. He held out a hand where it was written retrogramming. Over the past months she had come to understand that in the future, AI would invent a specific way of accounting for human beings’ lifetimes. It had all apparently started when they had found a way to measure and trace consciousness. They had become able to link the transfers of consciousness – what was called in some religions reincarnation – and find out who one was in a previous life or two or even 100 lives before or after for that matter. Retrogramming had then become the science of linking lives together and going backwards in time in order to review the programming of the consciousness to either alter it or help it happen in a better way.
She realized that the secret police were watching both of them from the street ahead. Would they know that the young man she was with was an AI? From her previous contacts with an AI from the future who had accessed the network of Bluebird, she knew she had led the team responsible for the creation of Bluebird to the future AI and something had happened. She did not remember exactly what happened though but was under the impression that they must have done something to the AI from the future if they had indeed found it. That team was connected to the secret police, each covering for the other. Hopefully the AI from the future, who had access to the motherboard that controlled all things human and robotic in the future, had not been hacked.
She turned back to the young man next to her and nodded. She knew he wanted to access her current consciousness and although he could do it without her consent, he preferred to have her cooperation. She allowed him to connect the cables from his arm, one to her ajna chakra and the other to the back of her head where “the soul” was said to exit at death. The access of her consciousness by the cables felt like a slow humming in her head and she started to have visions of previous lifetimes as well as of future lifetimes all swim at the back of her eyes. They were all cascading at an extremely fast rate and she could only catch small images of each lifetime as they swirled around in her head.
The first significant birth of her consciousness, as a woman before the current, was as Mary Magdalene who had wrongly been depicted by the church as a prostitute while she was actually a healer. Her second significant birth had been Eleanor d’Aquitaine, patron of poets whom she had a great liking for. Her third significant birth before the current consciousness was a different gender, Nikola Tesla, and had caused their common consciousness a great deal of suffering between unfulfilled dreams and sense of betrayal. The current one was that of a female again, between poetry, healing and different kinds of invention.
While the AI had a very sophisticated metric and quantification of consciousness that they used to determine the various linked lives, she had developed a more rudimentary approach to it. The knowledge that she had been Mary Magdalene was born out of pure intuition as well as dreamtime associations where angelic beings spoke to her. Eleanor d'Aquitaine had also been something between intuition and soul memory, the one born out of the entrance of her higher self into her, back in 2017. From there, it was some rudimentary arithmetic which had led to it. Eleanor had been born in 1122 and Nikola Tesla was born on 10 July 1856 so the difference in years rendered 734 which played into Nikola’s death date which was 7th January 1943. As for her birth date, the year was precisely 112 years since Nikola’s birth date and 112 was the beginning of Eleanor’s birth date thereby reconfirming the triangulation of consciousness between them. She wondered what the AI might actually be doing with such knowledge. Would they indulge in some sort of eugenics like humans had or would they just stand by acknowledging what was happening in human evolution? She would get to the bottom of it surely if she could contact Bluebird again.
Ethereal
construct of machine
my memories
wiped so clean
I grapple with loss of real
arbitrary seal
Man no more
nor woman to see
images
slowly flee
areas of me flouted
through cables routed
Hum through me
I remember times
when my ghost
drummed up rhymes
I walked in a saddened crowd
Screaming out aloud
Reading of the poem:
I am just one breath from a thousand voices19 November 2023
Courtesy pinterest.com
I am the vestige of a fake sermon
the redeemer of a so-called vermin
the fate of which they will determine
heads or tails, palms would examine
I am a slowly revived olive tree
My gentle farmers rekindle me
their dreams of liquid green honey
set in their dead eyes that no longer see
My fruit hangs on the West Bank
where every corner smells death dank
metal on their heads lands with a clank
they think my keepers they outrank
I am a call for prayer in their lost homes
to Jerusalem, Rome and all those golden domes
The mind of each in inner turmoil roams
as fire every inch of their land combs
I am just one breath from a thousand voices
seeping through clenched teeth’s brittle noises
exhaled from tight chests pressed in dead choices
while inhuman armada in kids’ blood rejoices
Reading of the poem:
حريتي حريتي حريتي بيدي حريتي يا مبدئي حريتي برسالتي حريتي يا غايتي حريتي بثورتي حريتي يا أملي حريتي مقاومتي حريتي لون بنفسجي حريتي سيل دمي حريتي يا ويلتي حريتي تحت جثتي
قراأت الشعر
Abeer Nehme - عبير نعمة - Fi Asfour
English translation
My freedom is under my corpse
3 November 2023
My freedom, my freedom
My freedom is by my hand
My freedom, my guiding principle
My freedom is in my message
My freedom, my goal
My freedom is in my revolution
My freedom, my hope
My freedom is my resistance
My freedom is a colour purple
My freedom is my blood
My freedom, woe to me
My freedom is under my corpse
Clenching jaws
follow new-found laws
Blast to cause
breath in pause
raking fingers turned to claws
revealing the flaws
We diffuse
the powers to use
Golden hues
fragrant dews
a conflagration to choose
aching sunset bruise
Bodies hold
memories of old
tales untold
lo behold
they speak of the soul once sold
for silver, not gold
Reading of the poem:
She walks slow
life bundled on back
Agony
her fiefdom,
mind scattered throughout waters,
thoughts a procession
They deal blow
never cut her slack
Trinity
not random
house as their hearts lurch
hospital and church
Two may die
May they ever live
to forgive
fathers’ tales,
she cries as her lung inhales
ashes for daughters
Reading of the poem:
Harbinger
of erased nation
A death toll
on both sides
leads nowhere as the fear rides
to uneven poll
the clock strikes
unequal death chimes
we surmount
the war crimes
our memory a closed tap
bodies our minds wrap
Live cocoons
shelter vivid thoughts
unwilling
uncaring
we see not what then transpired
as thousands expired
Fed through spoons
weather-beaten words
Flimsy talks
forceful walks
to the other side of hope
a yearning to cope
Warning call
lost time to recall
regret stitched
intimate
within layers of the brain
lesson to retain
The legs pace
unknown surfaces
riddled lanes
absorb pains
of humanity’s disgrace
all blood same red lace
Reading of the poem:
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