Techno-Dystopic World
These poems were part of an idea I had in high school to create a series of poems that paint a technological, dystopic future. I have selected the three best of the collection and heavily revised them.
Sonnet of The World
By the bytes of input and sims
are the worlds pieces analyzed,
by Computer Algorithms,
to play efficiently and wise.
Such is the tale of those who woke
the Wise Machine of Silicon
Valley
Few suspect behind the cloak,
the king’s a businessman
from Cali.
Ninety percent on streets outcasted,
Nine in boxes,
working, fearing;
The one are nowhere to be accounted,
Above
them sits the shadow king.
We all see that it all falls before
us;
Nothing will be as it ever was once.
Sonnet of A Day In The System
Six AM, she wakes up to alarm clock,
Repeat Monday mornings
affirmation,
Unwrap breakfast, and by eight o’clock
Check
emails at the workstation.
After seven PM’s gone by,
Open a
bag of welfare green,
Smoke a bowl and watch shows high
Until
the day dissolves in a dream
In her eyelids, she doth sees
Pasture greens and roses red,
And she knows that she believes
That life can be some more than dread
Tuesday, laying ’round, she
knew she felt wrong,
but by eight o’clock, her dream had already
gone.
Song of Forgotten People
… we believe during this downturn, there was a practice among the destitute to [protest], an occasion where a mass of people march together in an urban area to express their collective attitudes or beliefs. According to media of the time, these were generally violent and unpopular…
… while they were often passed down by word of mouth, some chants were recorded on paper; we have managed to restore two verses using various records. It is not clear if these were part of longer works or are complete in of themselves…
… through these works we hope to understand the socioeconomic conditions of the lower classes of this historic dark age more intimately, and understand the factors of the global civilization’s downfall better…
Here we are, the last free men,
Of the glorious West!
Until the New World’s murder tools
Clean up all the rest;
And as we all ascend together
Say “T’was for the best!”
And
from the clouds we all will watch
Mankinds final test.
They’ll strip you down and point a gun directly to your head!
They’ll break your knees and tear apart your God-given spirit!
Who cares about a broken body,
You’re in heaven when it’s dead,
When they ask for final words into their face you spit!