Poetry

If the Pope Were a She

What would we call a Pope If the Pope were a she, not a he? Perhaps the modern Pope Joan, If the legend indeed holds? Perhaps Papess or Popess, Similar to actress and lioness? Perhaps the words Mame or Mater instead, As far as linguistic equivalents go? What would we call a Pope If the Pope were a she, not a he? Perhaps we would call her the Lady Pope, For that’s what the world might expect? Perhaps we would call her the Lesser Pope, For that’s how women are often viewed – the lesser men? Perhaps we would call her the Fake Pope, For that’s how the haters would perceive? What would we call a Pope If the Pope were a she, not a he? Perhaps we would call her the Lightning, For that’s how far she has speeded? Perhaps we would call her the Chameleon, For that’s how she has survived? Perhaps we would call her the Hope, For that’s what she now leads? What would we call a Pope If the Pope were a she, not a he? Perhaps we would call her by our name, For that’s how she came to be? Perhaps we would call her by our sister’s name, For that’s how we wish her to be? Perhaps we would call her by our daughter’s name, For that’s how the future will be? © Su, Zhaohui

AI God

There are chatbots That claim to be God. Not just impersonation, But like, ‘Yes, my child, I am God.’ They raise questions, More disheartening than not. Where did the AI God come from? (Or what data was it trained on?) Who profits from the rise of AI God? (Or which private companies own their existence?) Is a machine still a machine, if it plays the AI God? (Or how seriously should we take it – spiritually or logistically?) © Su, Zhaohui

Not Their Fault

Maybe everything has a purpose, Maybe everywhere holds a logic. Yet for now, at least, My overburdened reason simply cannot Subscribe to such a mad theory – The idea that we can blame humanity’s mistakes on Divine trickery, Cosmic irony, Or veiled serendipity. The earthly pains we caused, Ignored or condoned, Were our doing – Our actions to own, And our responsibilities to bear. There is nothing to blame on the divine, For the mortal destruction we allowed. Maybe everyone has an anthropology, Maybe everything reflects a philosophy. Yet for now, at least, My poor reason simply cannot Subscribe to this mad theory – The idea that we can excuse humanity’s stupidity by Feigning ignorance, Forsaking decency, Clinging to self-pity. The earthly disasters we provoked, Fuelled, or amplified, Were our doing – Our deeds to own, And our burdens to bear. There is nothing to blame on the divine, For the mortal faults we chose. © Su, Zhaohui