Archive for the ‘science-based’ Category

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so excited to have a new dystopian poem forthcoming in this issue of POETRY Magazine.


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For valuable data, see:  emotions.


This is all effective and affective.

It is inching closer, like a train approaching a station.


It could indicate arrogance or annoyance.


Even the friend of many, the Xbox. ( though, who cares, I never had one)

will soon be controlled by more than hands.  It will mature to a place that is beyond verbal.




Anyone can calculate your body movements and the force of your punch, but now, It gets difficult with personal matters. How do I calculate heartbeat? I want to help shape the future offerings.  I want a machine to calculate love. Take out the guessing. I want the heart to long and project desire like a hologram, even when it is asleep.




We are entering a time when all is emotionally-aware.   


                                                                        [even my phone is smart.]


It is revealing and in the revelation is the scrutiny.


What if I just mask my emotions – could we be manipulated? I don’t have time for games. The opposite sex is so good at them. Machines will, too.  Who also wants to deal with Artificial Intelligence?


I could tailor my life according to my body. I could tailor my body to carefully built machines.

“I could” is neither here nor there; It’s just a starting point, like “I want to, but…”


© Umansky 2013


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“The love of endings is a love of form. It is a tributary. [ I will lead you down the river of this] It is triumphant, even.   Challenging and channeling; measuring the  riff. The world hurts. The world pains. The world cuts into wounds and we let it let on. We let it let on us. The gush is good.


The lucky is in the happening. The lucky is the way that the stitches run. If we were to take this in a musical direction, first, I’d want a motorcycle jacket first. 


This is a direct address:  “You! Come here!”


This is where I realize the recognizing has fallen.  The report should have stated:  this is precious. This is all a master letter on: wandering. If this is woven together, it will be satisfying. I  promise, what comes is promising.  I will make light dance.  You will believe that it will be.  I will collect the shatterings with my own teeth,” says tomorrow.  


© Umansky 2013

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What will bear repeating in the coupled -thought?

The construction of  tomorrow.


                                                                Leaving it alone



                                                                Passionate and ecstatic

                                                                He didn’t say, “cool”


                                                                But thought it as he appeared

                                                                To keep hitting the 4th.


                                                                Turning to the tadpoles,

                                                                Turning to the squid


                                                                He thought: scientific

                                                                But felt: ribbed revolt


The hawking begins with intelligent design.

Sometimes, or rarely it was decided that publicizing mankind

meant inheriting the past. Giving up                       not the spored   but the instinct

of what is light-spun,                                     and gorged.


                                                                Tidal wrestle

                                                                Darkened good


                                                                The Eye past; past the fixed

                                                                And already past the past, he


                                                                Socialized among the laming-green

                                                                Doubting the tadpoles


                                                                Doubting the squid

                                                                He waited for each lipped thing


                                                                To broadcast its frill


                                                                The smoothing birthed within

                                                                Him; birthed among him and


                                                                Spawned  a certain je ne sais quoi

                                                                                                To the Olden.


What we saw as circulatory was just round and grand and even what is planetary is not circular. Just we and the tide and these protected times


©Umansky 2013

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