Virtual Kenosis

Dispairing, empty heart and soul, a void
A restless Spirit lost in need of Freud
Not even strength to rise, I feel as dead,
Detached with nothing within, hope has fled...

Across the lightening electronic ways,
Along the infobahn's enticing maze,
Examining boards and electronic mail
I voyage searching for the holy grail.

I surf from site to site, from node to node
To widen th' world by clearing each blocked road.
I don the helmet of motion, sound and sight
And stand alone without form in darkest night.
I don the gloves of sensation, touch and feel
And floating, I can no longer sense the real.
I am in total darkness, formless night,
Detached, I have no sense of left or right;
I reach out, there is not a thing to touch --
Illusional, demonic fingers clutch
At my insides as I become confused
   ... and then amused.
I blink my eyes and out of th' void distills

A bit, a one in a boundless net of nils,
A shining one alone, aburst with thought,
A virtual quest awaiting th' infonaut.
Then there's a silent bang: the bits of true
Increase, reversing falsehood, queue by queue.
Now I observer th' resulting pseudosphere,
Infinity with a finite frontier:
It forms a saddle straight ahead of me,
But Gabriel's trumpet, stretched infinitely,
Is copied 'round the sphere's periphery.
I winked again and into th' orb I enter;
Upon whatever point I stand is center.
I shrink by half each time I walk a yard --
By Zeno, from the rim fore'er I'm barred.
Beyond me, cyberspace was demi-scaled.
Above, the solid dark alone prevailed.
Below, the world is lit by light that issues
From paths of logic, RAMS, and CPUs
Converging to a solid wall of light
All 'round the far horizon, blinding bright.
I blink to join onto the internet
And my illuminated space is set
With all of th' other conferees on th' web,
Our worlds together mix in flow and ebb.
I mount my virtual cycle, speeding star,
And head down th' straightaway proceeding far,
Until I hit an undefined abyss
And I can exercise the source of bliss:
To build a bridge across th' impassible gap,
To see it rise and add to th' infomap
A new inroad for cybertrekkers' joy
In having greater freedom to employ
Their ingenuity in creating data
And servers, piling strata upon strata.
Thus, my career, my surety and point
Which cares for me, as my savior I anoint.

O Well Being, treasure of my career,
Protector, Guarantor and Only True
Assurance of the certain avenue
To my control of my existence's sphere:

Without you everything would disappear
Of which I need, my very living's glue
Becomes unstuck; I'd have to bid adieu
To everything that I hold near and dear.

O Weal, I offer my vitality,
All my endeavors and my dedication:
You only, just you will I give my all.

Protect my house from every deprivation,
Provide to me my every expectation,
Surround my own in your impregnable wall.

Now finished here, I search for yet another.
Around a corner, I encounter th' other:
Female, so straight and perfect in formation,
Curvaceous, gorgeous, of her own creation.
Out of her fingers, long and slender, came
A planned and scenic park like Hershey fame:
A silent monorail, a rocket ride,
A Tudor plaza and a water slide.
She pointed into being recreation
For people fleeing daily desperation.
As soon as the gate was opened, there arrived
To join onto the group, persons derived
From life beyond the net's reality
Who don the guise of virtuality.
With each arriving handle her joy increased
And more and more of herself was released.
From nearly every side, excited players
Decamped into the park -- so many payers
At booths and rides and shows, electric blue
And neon red in the video venue:
Atomic rockets tessellated boundlessly
And stretched beyond the far horizon soundlessly.
A player mounts one ship, another mounts
And yet another; they begin their counts
And silently they raise; with whine and screech
Each warping toward a virtual cosmic reach.
The amusement park in full and merry swing
Enmeshes the players on obsessive wing.

But I, and only I, beheld a bar
To entry over by the far bazaar:
A gap, a void, an edge of noncreation,
A blankness dark, a region of negation.
Beyond it, I could see, 'twas animation.
A bridge, an interface was needed now --
Again, Well-being, I fulfill my vow:
I blink, again another channel opes
And you can enter bearing all our hopes.
Behind you'll come a new onslaught of hosts
That'll fan throughout like electronic ghosts.

I'm Chloë, how wonderful of you to aid
And make it possible for this cavalcade.

I'm Thane and pleased to help your operation;
Such happy work enhances my vocation.

Your actions, Thane, are as the Logos moves:
No barrier can withstand your fusillade
Where'er your acts occur, the world improves
And greater freedom's certainly conveyed.

O, Chloë, your handiwork, Sophia's face,
Creatively provides organization
Amidst the chaotic virtual time and space
Of nulls and ones, the stuff of application.

From thinking's nothingness, Kishelemukong
Creates us; And likewise from virtuality
We think into existence personality,
Processing, knowledge-scapes, and even song.

A thought and nothing else, and then headlong
We can indulge in boundless whimsicality
In unrestricted incorporeality
So independent of right and wrong.

From simply bits to chains of bits as code,
To massively complex programs and thought
Whose logic paths are now unsolvable mazes,
We no longer know what we have wrought
And both confront a spiritual dreadnought
And spirits fresh eliciting our praises.

O Chloë, together we can do so much,
Improving upon everything we touch.
I want to be with you in every act,
At every bridge and at every tract.

O Thane, together let's envision th' world
Where individual liberty's unfurled
And quiet desperation is dead;
Where cyber game and interface are wed.

Together, avatar to avatar,
Conjoined, we soar towards our own bright star.
We, hand in hand now often stroll as one
In gardens, orchids, woods and sandy beach --
The pregnancy of life within our reach,
Alive in God's divinely brilliant sun.

But dark'ning clouds foreshadow oblivion;
The mourn of going in a starling's screech
Reverberates and rocks our quiet speech
And our unworried pleasure is undone.

Then like a puncture in reality
A blot obscures our starry moonlit night
An emptiness without an edge or center.

My lover soundless cries her plight
Succumbing, fading, slipping out of sight
And leaves a blot, a hole I dare not enter.

I blink my eyes and return to cyberspace:
Its aura, its animation, its fantasy encapsulate me --
A cosmos delimited by the finiteness of computation --
A world reducible to nulls and ones and human imagination.

I undon my gloves of sensation and my helmet of motion
And behold the cosmos encompassed by divine imagination:
Its gardens, its orchids, its woods and seas; mountains and deserts --
Its ever new, ever renewing mysteries of God.

In the summer breeze among the ripening tomatoes,
Under the canopy of dogwood and apple,
The air, the land, the water breathed of færie:
In the hidden crevices of bark, under the brushes,
Below in the rabbit hole and up in the robin's nest
The Spirit of God smiles and plots her day.

At last, in th' air towards my heart's lure --
So close on th' internet, so far to touch,
At different poles of true reality,
We came to long for sensual sight and feel --
In flight, I, restless and impatient, wait.
How does her cyber image match her really?
So straight and flexible, I have seen her,
Alluring, shapely, tanned, and lively.
Along a lake we'll stroll with hand in hand --
At last with hand of flesh, not cyber pixels,
In hand of flesh with warmth and sense and softness --
No medium between us save our bodies,
No need for circuits, bytes, or th' internet.
The jet descends, my heart and stomach 
Let's go! let's go! I silently exclaim.
As passengers collect themselves to leave.
I shuffle down the ramp and anxiously
I look for our shared brand, th' reclining eight --
The mathematics sign of infinite things --
For th' match to th' eight inscribed upon my laptop.
Among the bustling crowd, I look and look
From case to case conformed to th' infobox.
At last! th' reclining eight! in her low lap.
I raise my eyes to her compelling eyes,
So deep, alluring, crying out for entry.
I felt like I would tumble endlessly
Into them, free and floating joyously
In th' infinite abyss of soul within her.
She sat and only moved or spoke with pain.
She moved on wheels and mumbled, drooled and jerked.
Not straight, alluring ... as in cyberspace --
How could such skill and soul reside in that?

O Thane, I knew it! Thus, I feared your coming:
You cannot even understand this slobering --
Your fear and loathing well I know and feel;
We should have only loved on th' internet.

O Chloë, I cannot stay here anymore.
Your virtual self is fuller; I am sorry ...

From human frailty we're liberated
When within virtual space we're decarnated --
To speak, to run, to see, to have no bounds,
No barriers, no recriminating sounds,
To being with each other purely free
And empty of all human agony.
In human sufferings we're implicated
And stuck when life's no longer simulated --
To speak, to run, to see imperfectly
And be a part of human destiny --
To have to face our being with each other
And not be sure concerning one another.

I stood upon a curb emershed in darkness;
Beyond extended only empty starkness;
Above me lights on velvet, sparkled stars
And on th' horn of crescent Luna hung red Mars
As deep on deep and year on year ascended
To th' edge of Cosmos far and far extended.
I am alone, no longer one united.
No, ne'er again will I be so delighted
By flowers, trees, and seas as when she shone
Upon my life and times -- for she is gone.
My heart's a desert, living is a chore.
The struggle overwhelms forevermore.
My caring's emptied of my lost beloved.
So drained I cannot hope to raise above it.
For me no longer does the bell toll
For I am dead swallowed up in sheol.
Forsaken, God-forsaken I'm cut loose
Detached strangled by loving's noose.
The empty solid, dark consuming night
Like Cignus X-1 sucks out life and light.

Across the street before me rose a blot
As solid, thick, forebodingly forgot
And towering as a drug infested, smashed,
Decaying building, dark, invisibly gashed.
This structure canceled out the stars and sky --
A hole consuming light, an empty cry
Descending down a bottomless abyss
Fore'er a disconnected chrysalis.
She's swallowed up by that obliteration
And lost, she's utterly beyond creation.
I turn my face away from the dreaded smart
Of that malignant hole in my Spirit's heart:
I've caged the demons within, holding them
At bay; do not disturb my planned adquem.

Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, have mercy,
Protect me from Pluto, Mars and Circe.

The blot embraces nothing: neither space
Nor time; unable to contain a trait
Or be a part of the aim of cosmic fate:
Its always never, everywhere's no place.

With not between two braces face to face,
Not even with itself can it locate
A single common thing, though to create
Is all it is by divine, holy grace,

The nothing, empty blot that looms beyond
Is smaller than the smallest point-event
Contained in each and every one of us.

It is likely being emptied of content
Must lead to the spirit's underived ferment
And I can join the cosmic exodus.

The blot in dawn's red light is like a hole
In space where once upon an empty knoll
Was, tall and glistening, a building filled
With life's concerns -- now forever stilled.
In th' empty space it left there once was fun
For innocent preschoolers whose chatter none
Will ever hear or see or hold again --
Just air and sky and chirping birds remain.

I walked into that nothing, penetrating
Its featureless, resistive liberating
Dark membrane, passing into th' uncreated.
Chaotic waves of fear rolled unabated
As freely falling, I was shrunken and shrunken
And strangely deeper and deeper sunken
Into reality's sponge, its base,
Until, between th' events of unbroken space
I fit, no longer noticing my shrinking --
An endless passing in a single blinking.
So small, I live in the instant 'tween one second
And the next where only wizard's math is reckoned.
In a single timeless, spaceless hole inside
Existence all creation's acts abide:
The sponge repeats with varied alternity;
Its holes of nothing hold eternity.
Diminished, deep in the blot upon my life
Without an aim, despair and anguish rife,
I hold th' eternal in my empty hand,
By my fingers all reality is spanned.

Before creation Christ as Logos, the Word
Was God in form, all ruler, truth and right:
But in being God, did not so much delight
That Christ became a human, love preferred,
Whose holy words through the ages would be heard,
Whose human touch would offer hope and sight
And love and care relieve the soul's dark night,
And suffered on the cross so death deterred.
Through Jesus humbled, emptied, holy child
All things from A to Z came into being --
Alone through Jesus can things be created:
Thus God exalted Jesus so decreeing
His way and name to be to our spirit freeing
And that all creatures here would kneel elated.

©2010, John A. Mills