Pythonism

code and the oracular

Number Mountain (poem)

with 2 comments

I wait for history to unfold,
I want the singularity to come. 
I find new disciplines each hour, 
observing the creep of advancing tech…
opening mind ever wider.
Trying to use occasional wonder for motivation,
shattering the ice of consciousness,
dutifully reading science news,
cursing my poverty,
not of finance but of thought.
Waiting for colleagues to comment ,
slowly eroding these smooth boulders, my limits 
The confines of neurotransmitter balance.
Doing my best to let cares wash away like glacier milk, 
but I am also a wounded scientist.

I walk through the terrain of unfinished equations,
the detritus of a lack of diligence is strewn here. 
I have even turned to god at times,
breaking the empirical law in desperation.
Sometimes impoverished, my imagination flits 
from one shallowness to another.
I never get to hold my truths for long. 
I must plough on through the snow, 
breaking the trail is so hard. 
But give me a year 
and I’ll have covered miles… 
give me some fuel, 
and I’ll hoist myself to the top of a hill, 
look down at the pedestrians 
and know it’s still all worthwhile. 

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Written by Luke Dunn

September 8, 2017 at 4:36 pm

Posted in Creative Writing, poems

2 Responses

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  1. … and I thought only I wrote poems on singularity ! 😉

    Arkapravo

    September 11, 2017 at 6:17 am

    • I wrote this one some years ago

      Luke Dunn

      September 11, 2017 at 8:41 am


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