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"Welcome to the future"

reliable rocket ship trade routes, for any rich man.
Flying cars made with science that everyone pretends the myth-busters didn't invent first.
Dead rap stars and anime girls performing,
live on stage with smoke and mirrors
and a government that redefines the word Live,
and operates on smoke and mirrors

"Welcome to the future"

There is a company developing brain chips
so you can watch me climb this mountain,
just synch up with my vision
Also, while you're in my head
check out these commercials I'm hearing from the drone propaganda radios
Feel how this rock feels, synthetic and stamped with advertisements
smell what I'm smelling,
the propane, the soot.

You think this sounds crazy?
There's a little magic rectangle in your pocket.
to Record and send audio, take a photo,
we are halfway
we're just making every science fiction dream a reality

"we're so ******"

What's gonna happen when the world
runs out of dreams to make true?
marty mc-fly got his self strapping shoes, and also we got heelys
and sometimes we got self strapping heelies that glew in the dark
these things are ancient technology now
but we aren't far from the delorian

...or a nuclear apocalypse.

We have flying cars!
when we get flying houses, islands,
cities
when we populate mars
when we umbilicord ourselves to technological advances
hack, splice,
stich in memory chips, nerolinks
Who's gonna come up with the new dreams?

Who's gonna pen the next future
when everyone has seen the jetsons
outside their window.

Bring me the most creative,
innovative minds,
Untouched by the rhetoric
Who will be our new gods?
Will it be the artists?

No,
Bring me the Children.

"Welcome to the playground"

Words of aspiration graffitied on trump tower
Kaiju stuffed bears with saddles transporting business suit toddlers to their desks
where they draw, and draw, and draw
Mechanical dinosuars replacing trains.
Shutes and ladders everywhere
We will put our faith in mommy
and she will be beautiful
just like me.
we will pray to mother
she will rain affection
guide the pint sized diaper academy
while the adults sit in sensory boothes,
occulus rift 99.5.0 on their heads
feeding tube, cathader, an ash tray of tiny blue pills.
a small child hired to wipe their *** once in awhile,
for minimum wage
Which now is $200 an hour,
they still can't get health care
the lowest plan offers crayon insurance
that they can't use until they are promoted to artist

So they pray and pray to their mother religion
but mother doesn't exist here.

only birth robot
only television parasite
only plugged in queens and worker boys

we have the responsibility
to mold these tiny minds
if we **** up, remember
the fate of the world
was never in our hands
it was in very tiny hands
with pencils in them

"Welcome to the future"
"Welcome to the future"
"welcome to the future"
kelvin mungai  Mar 2016
Untitled
kelvin mungai Mar 2016
Wallontly i glared toward the heavens
Seeking homage with the deities less registered in my recess
Sanity compromised my doubtfulness
As the blue sky and the grinning yellow occulus obscured my quest
"You can't see god"they warned my sight deprived eyes
Discernible kaleidoscopic star performed a victory dance in my cornea
I squinted in surrender

Choreographing my eidetic
Memory wikipidia
I vividly recall being
cautioned about mentioning the name of the gods in vain
Yet here i was
Calling my lungs out
Coughing and spitting profanities
Just trying to catch their attention
I searched with futility for heaven,paradise or even olympus
Whichever residence the gods laughed at my pitiful threats

I called my voice hoarse cursed the moon and swore never to think about the gods
Yet as i lay my tattered flame at night i wondered
Could they have heard me but decided to play hide and seek
Could they have seen me but decided to spare my pathetic human soul
So in dream land is drowned and i dreamt death....
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
Engulging dull gen-e-rational
curses from the last of the old to die
for the lie,
nessecito - guard the secret truth,

divide the knowing, good and evil.
Teach the children,
organize the engineered future, according,
tying, linking, thinking wedominionate, ping

CR disappears, as an action in reaction to ping
before the end of the line, on the first iteration
of my magnificent word processing machine,

****, woncha remember with me, not so long
ago - there were few, total few, zero
who had the where withal to do, what most
10 year old smartphones can do in a city.

Or along a trade route, major arteries of commerce.
Wireless Fidelity, High Fi- taken to the future
by virtue of infinite differentiating
-ping to correspond
My fingerprints differentiate me, for what that's
worth
appraise the role of one of my kind, with such skills
in 1858.

Infinite progress, with no regress for consideration,
who do we think we are,
who do we act as if we are,… my link to a living

line of my innerbeing, who I am from core to crust.

We, mortal readers and writers of thoughts,
code mode, readers,
- entertained by comparizoned boundaries
- bottom line, profundo mundus, mental
- novelty threat to global trade
- imbalence valence slipping
- on rolling ares, arrest that man
- he waxeth strange
odd
random reason, aitia cause and accused,
silly simple some, greedy grand plan for us,
this we
of me and thee, one with words, one with minds,
one with many
rediscoveries, little things, one must ignor, or else.

Nor must one image, to imagine, words alone
bein' in and of a current opinion, as to how why

is so seldom right, at first glance. Pain is a principle

price we learn to pay, in tolerable increments,
no pain, zero pain, is as if
- nowhere man, and the fool on the hill,
- were figments of shared imagination, to a few
- who remain from the
you cease reading, and this ends with you
hanging

from a thought with no words to hold it, long enough
to pierce the depths of difference

so slight,
least heat, zappa child reflection from an outlier edge
point to living in a living desert, see
we learn to live gently, walking soft. Stepping gen-tle

Knowing my time, and the ether-real or not network
tying strings to my fingers, reminding me of knacks
I was given, so when I came into my full potential,

I might function in my role. A bit of this we, of me and the
other people.

Sure, I left a trail, my neesings are frost on the deep,
see, a trail through a trial,
a time in a covideonic mind, unimaginable, a week ago.

If you were in that number, 3.2 billions, in 1962;
then you were included in the transition to now,
without your will being considered, the cultural
norms were fully functional,
once more, order rose from the chaos of industrial

excessive progress toward the wardening of all
mankind, wombed and un, and otherwise minded.

All settled then,
we keeps some accords confidential.

Scoff the co-inspiring reasons for fear.
Abhor evil,
live free/

you get the idea, I get the glory, in the story/

confidential assurance, you know what I mean?
What is the watch word?

be very sure/ steady solid seeming grounds
for contesting truth,
with reasons war uses to this very day,

to lead the innocent to rage.

Who, in ever, has lived as we live,
if you can read this line,
you are empowe'ded with tehkne, knowledge
harnessed and put to the yoke, thro
ugh
the exageration station into all in all.

Meandering rivers of white space where
edges promise what feels like falling, every time.
--------- eight line bit
bytes of bets you once imagined making

I bet the whole world laughs at me, and then
I said nothing.

It was very funny. At the time.

What do you think happened?
Did they die?

Did the audience disappear as soon as we looked out.

Standing out, salient aspects of personal being,
recollected for resorting
to old ways, where good is, yet, even, smooth,

as silk from the looms in distant lands, with dragons.
and mist
and mountains only fools wish to climb.

-- Well, here we are, in the middle of wars
and rumors of wars and proven plagues and famines
feedback from the whole life plan, we paid into
from the gitgo,

gone to reason with America, at Guantanamo.
Gone to wrestle with an ancient will to rule the world.

Meet me in the middle. Infinite Jest. I did read,
Proust and James Joyce, I did not read, but judged,

from a time in flux, filtered through the new
world order,

We, the Americans, become the other people.
The innocent standers by the mainstreet at Disneyland.

Gnost-algia, Anacin hammering on my medial frontal
shell

controlling nada, zilch, meandering along old synaptic
trails trial runs to the edge,

imagine we imagined we jumped the snake river,
wearing our Occulus, in June, of '22.

Who can forget an Imax experience, really,
when you remember your first flight

in the right seat,
sitting on my Daddy's  lap, I was that little.

  

The first flight above clouds.

Look at now,
look at this, us, as readers reading type
set as
thought, really, only code appearing in letting
lines letting lines form rhetted fibers, combed and
curled in natural twists, to reaffirm the function,

give us skin for skin/ made for shade, where
water is for us, to live
and have our being.
------------

Ignoring the cost, the man of leisure, the gentled
old man, the quitter, the walker away from the course,
settles all final bets.
For nobody bet on my horse, but me.
Of course, I had no horse, and that all stands to reason.

I am at the end of an era of errors, compensated for,
with vegetation, once the idea life had was
manifested as a sea of green, when seen from on high,

valleys, gentled, settled valleys filled to form the soil,

when the mankind mind is made up to know,
come hell or highwater,
who can hide the truth through put in functional code.

If it runs it runs, play the game.
Think, of course, when in the course of Human Events.

We are all involved. Me, as one among the 3.2 billions
alive in 1962 who brought forth fruit.

Multiple interests converged, in time. Each with its own
reason to be considered, cosmical influent.

Story wise, since ever when the fewest variables
variegation currency worth valuation
-came to our attention,
that is the point

to the order in which organized systems developed,
occurrence…
- living in knowledgement, state of sci
- =
the birth of the wombed man who did become,
science und wissen und kennen-wise, become
mother of all mankind.

Mito-mom, we say. She is as Eve, or Pandora
or Lilith or

Objection Orientation, east is where the sun is
in the morning.

I am thinking, in my easy chair. As comfortable
as can be.
At the moment, instantly in prayer, are we as ware
as we were
once, we knew for the first time, in our reality, we

who and whom, with all this room for individuation.

Consider modern ants, consider the meta-ant,
and the eco-system that has developed it,

the global transport, spreading the functional
universal aspects of earth's will to function
as one point within the scope of mortal minds

where we become the last staged event.

And we all get together, to close the show.
Re reading Wonderworks. Living in the library.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2018
the matter of bemoaning
gaining an audience the size
  to tickle fame being minded...
   what a horrible
       enterprise...
         a crow dies but no one
minds the croaking
             impetus of a stand-still...
  as an orc might mind be
playing the bad sort...
                 three count toward
a four a.m.,
         and does it really matter
by now?
               perhaps...
          hood off, hair not was washed
for a week...
        pretending to give
a **** about cosmopolitan
        comercials...
         sniffing armpits?
            that's one way of
making the "problem" concise...
             we can stare scared,
or stand stiff...
                  but we can easily
seek narcissus in canvases
beside imitation of a mirror...
                  the clear imagine
impression came with narcissus...
but the other demigod?
            occulus?
                     look at my current e.g.,
no still lake, no mirror,
   but a piece of glass
the the right shading worth
either luna or solus...
                    to make an exfoliating
flash of crafting dimensions
akin to shading...
                       but by now it doesn't
really matter...
                  whatever worth of
photography wasted on a mirror...
is the least adventure of
glass allowing the same
              take on short-script
revision of painting...
             even if jim carrey
     needed colour...
            i kept myself busy...
                       looking for a canvas.
Ken Pepiton Jan 2023
Novel events, as noble glory,
the flower of youth,
selected for duty…

when did prudence become religion,
or even that lesser form, spiritual?

Plop in the middle of a century
with roads mastering mountain and pampas;

in a time when men have come to such agreements,
as only the most perspicacious of the redactors,
fitted to the future, if the interesting times,
could churn out eight more years of beef,
we could have made empire,
green and comfortable,
;\
Occulus 3 for everybody
/:-}
called to witness our discovery,
swoosh, veil taking away act
acted out
in symbolic gesture, nod
to Infinite Jest,
and a wave to Mr. Dirac, for not liking the answer.

I past the test. I cheated, I used my vague recollection.
- quatum rule for any thing in ever to work,
- there is always a here, and a mean free way
- to go

I read my copy of Spiderman No. 1. Thus, we ken tokenize
the boomer iteration of the Mandan's Loneman,

make a mental image, like a feather, in Forrest Gump,
that struck a chord,
morphic resonant little silver hammer
ding
even better, think chocolate covered cherries,
and feel the surprize,
nobody made that up… but as I wrote,
my prudent wife, swung open my door and gave me
two, which I let
melt to first sip, then softly chew, mulling, as with wine,
warming the taste out of the condiments.

--- sweet distractions, as with the honed edge,
the time spent making ready, prepare,
the heart for exploration…

this is the future, where is your core, Pineal, calls,
toss up, we left the rest to chance,
- my point. I bet that.
by day the eagle eats the liver,
by night the liver renews the reason, it was worth it.

— The End —