You Call Me Progress..

Science
now creates
what was once the realm
of the old gods.

Today, from nothing
but a drop of blood, a spark,
and some meta-1; the blending
of chemicals and energies - we
create life.

Beautiful.
Perfect. Too
beautiful, too
perfect.

Without
flaw, the arts, musics,
poetries, things fashioned
by these new wonders - sterile,
lacking in the beauty of
the pain of
the failure of
the flaw.

The beauty
of our human-
ness.

If science does
in time capture
true perfection
through the creation
of imperfection, the new
beings, this new life
will not need
to destroy you
and I. They will
be you
and I.

Sound mad? Who
am I to make
such claims? I
am one bridge crossing
the gap of human that is
and the human
that will be.

Born a dead man,
I was awoken. Born
a body of uncontrolled
movement, I am a body
of movement controlled,
regulated, by computers
in the skull.

And I
am the body
you call progress...

_{(drafted 08-01-2010 @ 04:50)}