the automaton
sleeps in a leather valise
aboard coal fired
wagon-lits exiting
Paris for Zurich
where Boole
surreptitiously waits
in the garish
pooled gaslight
that puddles his
well disguised lab
grown impatient
with checking
rechecking
his bold philosophical
specs for the final
adjustments
the strokes
that will transform
intelligent worlds with
a lifelike machine-driven
self-thinking man
as the nearing train
mounts chugging groaning
steep Swiss elevations
he opens his pocket-fobbed
quantum clock geared
for the measure of logic
and smiles with a
mathematic knowledge
that soon will arrive
his inchoate invention
prepared to receive
its mechanical mind
what the future will hold
will be told
by new means
of computing
the physics and abstracts
that ever have challenged
organic gray brains
told by gleaming gold
ratchets and pistons
of new jewelried genius
the clatter of horsecarts
on cobblestoned lanes
makes his waiting
unbearable watching
from under the
ancient hewn eaves
of his retrofit garret
he finally spies
his reliable teamster
and rushes to take hold
the precious valise
wildly eager to usher
the Boolean offspring
of what will have been
the industrial age
lovin this – excellent
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thanks kindly
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Really nice. 🙂
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I appreciate that
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Wow! So great!
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thanks kindly
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Fantastic!
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much appreciated
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You are very welcome! Feel free to stop back any time. You have a lot of great stuff so it will take me a visit or two! Thanks!
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And here I thought steampunk was a San Francisco rock band . . .
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that, too – it’s all about the atmospherics
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Machine driven self-thinking man . . .
Rattled me. Echoed of losing ourselves and particularly to so much that seems to be on automatic these days.
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it’s only a matter of time
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Tells a tale; paints the scene; captures the thoughts of Boole; traps history – doesn’t get much better than that!
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thanks kindly, mike
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Fascinating story. The lines chugged along with the tale. I would love to see how the cogs of your mind come up with ideas and the perfect words to express them.
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ha ha – me, too
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Reblogged this on Tome and Tomb.
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thank you kindly for sharing my poem with your readers
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I’m fascinated by steampunk art. Reading your poem was akin to being in an airship and looking down through a scope that captures all the subtleties and minutiae of a scene in a steampunk dystopia.
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I’m smiling because your generous comment tells me that my poem succeeded in conveying the appropriate atmospherics – as this is outside my normal experience, I was unsure I could pull it off
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