REALITY FABRICATION
Take a pencil and feel a texture with it
You seem to feel it at the pencil’s tip;
But, you have no sense organs way out there;
So—the brain fabricates reality!
All you see is the inside of your head,
A model. You don’t believe it, you say;
Well, it’s the same model seen in your dreams,
With your eyes closed and you in darkness, too!
All we see are the insides of our heads—
A wide-awake dream. What’s really out there,
I suppose, are waves and fields, which our minds
Sense in representative ways, like red.
Not only is seeing inside the head,
But also the hard-soft-texture of touch,
The scents of molecule shapes, and the sounds
Of air waves, again, as in a night-dream.
Absolute Reality is scentless,
Colorless, and quite soundless; however,
Sense organs detect waves and vibrations—
Such—all reality’s fabricated.
A virtual reality can be
Enjoyed and directed in lucid dreams,
Where one can do anything at all, without
Injury or penalty, with real feel!
A simple four-way lookup senses taste
By degrees of bitter, salt, sweet, and sour,
And, likewise done, the three-way colors,
And ten-plus-way facial recognition.
Brains have parallel processors for form,
Texture, color, and depth—and a quick one
For motion detection—which all combine
Later as what we see in unity.
Consciousness is referred back in time a bit,
Like the tape-delay of a live TV show,
To hide the brain’s processing time from us,
Making things seem to happen instantly.
The now is ten-forty-fourths of a second long,
The frequency at which events appear over
The horizon of consciousness, the succession
Of which gives us the illusion of time passing.
A hormoned hunger pang, midway between a
Pain and a withdrawal symptom, makes us
Run, run, run to eat—well, that’s OK, until
Another hormone signals satiation.
Bonding hormones bring us closer together,
Pheromoaning into lust, love, and relationships
Spurred onward by love-made endorphins—and, so,
Yes, there can be chemistry between people.
People are but machines going the way
Of their brains, genetics, and chemicals
But, you, learning these secrets, rise above,
For, at least, you know you’re a machine.