Friday, May 6, 2016

Boolean Algebra of Self-Awareness and Other Poems By Sudeep Adhikari

Sudeep Adhikari, from Kathmandu Nepal, is professionally a PhD in Structural-Engineering. He lives in Kathmandu with his wife and family and works as an Engineering-Consultant.  His poetry has found place in many online literary journals/magazines, the recent being Kyoto (Japan), Zombie Logic Review (USA), Scarlet Leaf Review (Canada) and Red Fez (USA). 

Boolean Algebra of Self-Awareness 

A mute distilled from the vibrations
of infinite souls. Speaks, sings and makes the knots 
of my space-time in local coordinates, 
life is a sonic multitude.   Only machines don't speak, 
silicon skylines running Webdriver Torsos
on the cities of organized death.
I pity you Artificial Intelligence. I really do. 
A little arthropod, 

with antennas of gold and wood 
sneaked into my cubicle. I hear you little soul, 
your infrasonic love-songs. 
Self-awareness implodes, and creates
an array of multiverses within. A small

 knock on the door 
can throw my universe to splinters
can gear the big-bang of me. 
at the moment, I am a singularity; naked, fertile,  
and made of Buddha's  bones and boners. 

Poetics of New Acoustics

Dystopia used to be a myth. But now
I live like a Transformer, headbanging
on the sonic booms
lacerating skins of Gaza-strip,
Baghdad, Belgium and Lahore. People
have evolved. In place
of their head, now
they carry a Call-of-Duty type
mask of Kevlar black.

The territorials are coupled
with the terror-machine, through oil-ducts
made of high-end alloys
heat-treated, non-corrodible
and desert-friendly. Middle-path,
middle-east, middle-finger
media-machine squeaks. Free-thoughts
are not free after all. New-age
Whitmans and Wordsworths,
they need to hear the ultra-sonic sirens
of titanium drones, and the rattles of MH370
rivers don't flow
 with the same tranquility anymore.

A new layer of sonosphere, now circumscribes us
and Beethovens are pretty out of context
we need to find love, in a different way
and make some poetic-machines
for the new sounds of our time.     


The Floating Bars of Ohio

The summers were always nice and warm 
we used to go to some lakeside bars on Saturdays 
and had Bloody Mary and Corona alternately, 
till we got buzzed. The old couples used to bring their private
 boats and get wasted at around noon
Once I met an old lady who claimed
 to have babysit Patrick Carney from Black Keys 
when her 20 years younger boyfriend 
kept looking at us as if we were from mars.
and one nice Saturday afternoon, 
a girl came and started asking about my whereabouts 
and said she is from down South. Her cousin came, 
and angrily he said "Why are you talking with this terrorist"?
I had long hair and beard at the time 
and I also had a very long laugh to follow.
I was not offended. I dug his context
 but I hated his teeth, 
which kept reminding me of Global Warming and Nickelback. 

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