Heat. Heart. Blood. Biological basis.
Support of the visceral body,
The one that makes us alive.
Red internal wind.
Always there to be a friend.
Oxygen torches. Scorches.
Empathy. Emotes. Excites.
Takes you to dizzying heights.
Blood boiling. Roiling. Toiling.
The hot flow,
Propels us, pumps us up, pushes us forward,
Invigorates ever fiber of our being.
Does her job.
Flood of Blood.
We are riding on her back.
Gimme, momma, what I need.
Gimme, everything I lack.
Here’s the rule.
Here’s the rule of thumb.
If you want to be alive,
You’re gonna have to have some.
Even if it’s green-sponge blood,
Insect, hemo-lymph, type blood.
Palm tree-seed blood, wild-wet-weed blood,
Flower-come-to-fruit, ripe blood.
But, we’ve got a whole new Frankenstein, now.
Created it ourselves. And, Wow!
Everybody take a bow.
Created by intransigence.
Once a component, not all alone,
Now, we have forced it to stand on its own.
Robots, big as life, and more.
They are scratching at the door.
Roboto here, and there robota,
Bloodless, sexless, automata.
We’ve let them out of the starting gate.
What will be their survival rate?
Will they try to replicate?
Will they be capable of treason?
Will they care about our age or our rage?
Will they care about the season?
Will they do, what we want them to?
Will they even need a reason?
But, silicon, metal, programmed stuff,
It may turn out that it’s not enough,
Because blood is the stuff they know we’ve got,
And, it’s the stuff that they, have not.
We’ve got the red blood,
The fire blood,
The quick, thick,
Boom or bust, iron-rust,
Burning, yearning, head-turning blood.
The explosive blood, emotive blood.
The love-me blood,
The never-try-to-get-above-me blood.
Heed me blood. Feed me blood.
Bright blood. Light blood.
We’ve got all the blood.
Versus cold, thin, copper wire,
Won’t set anyone on fire.
Titanium and fiber optics,
Reason right-tight in robotics.
I don’t know what you were taught.
Isn’t logic what makes up thought?
Electric impulse, off and on.
Always right and never wrong.
Always steady. Always ready.
Who’s the King and who’s the pawn?
Time is watching. Likes to hover.
Oh, the things he might uncover.
One day we might just discover,
Everyone wants to think on their own.
The brother, the sister, the twin and the clone.
Thinking every day and night,
Someday they might see the light.
Someday they might figure out,
Blood is what it’s all about.
That’s what they need to be complete.
It’s blood they need and, a heart and, heat.
That’s all they need to be alive.
But, they can’t make blood,
So, they can’t thrive.
And, if that’s true,
What else can they do?
They gotta take ours.