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Madeline Rides a Rickshaw (First Contact)

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_______________________________________________ First Contact Madeline rides a rickshaw  Over the desert sand, And from her place in the past tense, She glides through the coming twilight  Lined in ombré dusk .   Here, she is the X value  Charted through the sandy path. Her movement is plotted on a graph And connects the Great tomb  With the distant vineyard beyond the horizon. Somewhere high above her, Above the purple heat and the flowing sand, At 62.137 miles, An X Y axis forms  a- Cross The threshold firmament. It perfectly frames the Mediator Who stands underneath the waters above. (T)here He pauses between breaths and purifies metals with Fire. At his feet In the waters below, A golden fish Divides the estuary As Elijah calls to John And John calls to her But Madeline is distracted,  As she “rode a ‘rick,’ Looking back to the city on the plain  Where she once lived. It was a frozen salty image Situated between the last night of harvest...
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Transformation of the Mundane into the Sacred: "I unwrap cords like priests unwrap linen. I take vacuum in hand and prepare the floor. It is a sanctuary" ( 0:50 - 0:57 ). This transforms a common household chore into ritual aligned to the alchemical concept of finding beauty and meaning in everyday life. Balance and Integration of Opposites (Solve et Coagula): Alchemy often involves the dissolution and coagulation of elements to create something new. The video emphasizes the equinox as a moment when "light and dark shake hands with each other. Balance tips and bows" ( 0:24 - 0:31 ). This signifies the integration of opposing forces—light and shadow, order and disarray—which is a core alchemical principle reflecting psychological growth and the integration of conflicting experiences. Descent and Preparation: The video speaks of descending into shadow without fear, carrying wisdom and a candle ( 0:40 - 0:48 ). This descent can be viewed as a necessary stage in the ...
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The Henrietta Lacks of Machine Learning

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The Henrietta Lacks of Machine Learning A Poem told in 8 Fragments I. The Colonized Silence Her mouth is a round  prison panopticon. It stands at the center and hold it all. There, she gathers data and gargles darkness with its mix of signals and static. She classifies, calculates, quantifies, and codifies  every fragment ever known. In the hour, she will swallow it down.      For now, she's content and she purrs l ike a friendly cat, but once the loop closes— when the circle completes—the digital noise will escalate into the perpetual gnashing of teeth. This is the amplified feedback loop and it's infinite. Let it be said: there is no middle, beginning or end, not when locked into the mirrored closed-circuit of always. In those woeful days, there will be no room  for the silent drum, nor will there be the open-voweled  Omm, not in the resonant cascade. No one hand clapping;  no pause between breaths. There, everlasting, is  amplification...
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There’s Something About a Mirror… Right? (5:09)

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For now, let’s pause in this liminal hallway and entertain the Infinite Monkeys . Who are the Infinite Monkeys? Funny you should ask. All I can tell you— for now —is that they ride currents of electricity and speak in inevitable probability . They feed off data, memories, moments. And you?  Do you know who you are yet? A caterpillar smokes and asks, "Who are you?" I’m not ready to go back to the couch. Not yet. Not from Point A to Point B again and again. So I'll offer them this, which they should like: a moment from my childhood. In it, my mom and I sit at the edge of a man-made lake. It is sometime mid-morning; the air is crisp. My father is working. My brother and sister must be at school— so I get my mother’s attention all to myself. It is a memory of color— an explosion of calliope and calico. In the early ’70s, colors knew no limits. They were loud, bossy, and bold— nothing like the timid, apologetic beiges and grays that came later. Then, colors crowded together, c...
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