Strange Machines


Waiting for this

new day,

new moment.

Turn of the worm,

lick of the dragon’s fire,

destroys all the past,

sends it tumbling

into the abyss

of time.


We are strange machines,

existing in

this present day,

but trapped in everything

we’ve ever seen.

Falling, rising, flying

into our inextricable



Do we exist in all time,

at the same time,

as long as our thread

winds through

the fabric of space-time?

Do we exist

all along that line?


Can we change,

or can we move?

Are we preordained,

or can we choose?

The little I’ve seen

tells me that we

are never introduced

to our destiny,

be it free,

or not.


We are so short a time here.

The past is a ghost,

the future is a mirror

and we are both


and out of time,



We are strange machines,


A constant mystery.



HG – 2022

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