I saw hanging clouds on the top of the world
And my dreams following the fleeting sun
Flying above the world in the machines of man
But it's engine groaning under misery
A thousand parts suddenly falling apart
Under the weight of repeated failures
Not able to reach the infinitesimal summit
Have you ever wondered what it would be like without them?
They create a divide.
They control people.
They scare people.
They create monsters
People are so blinded by what they've been taught,
That they lose all sense of what's wrong or right.
They believe that what they're doing is right.
Religion is a way for people to justify their actions,
All in the name of God.
We say to people
"Don't take God's name in vain."
But that's what people are doing.
Using God to justify you taking someone's life
Is not showing respect.
In fact, I think God would be quite disappointed.
Religion is the worst thing that ever happened to humanity.
We are human when it greets us,
But when it's finished with us,
We are no longer people.
We are machines.
Religion isn't an intelligent way for God
To 'communicate' with us.
Religion is just an intelligent lie.
I don't mean to offend anyone or anyone's religion. This is just what I think religion has done to the world.
I am so sorry if I have offended you in any way. I do not mean to. I have absolutely nothing against people who are religious....except maybe the ones who **** other people because of religion....but those are just technicalities.....
:) Don't come after me...
This is quite a sore subject for a lot of people, yet one that is quite popular.
that is what humans are.
I don't believe in religion, but I do believe in God.
But I also kind of don't believe in God because I believe in Science.
Life is hard.
Monica, please save us from this H*ll,
save the planet, where we live and dwell ...
Those Machines are giving us a command ...
It is a tyranny! Look! Drought land — the sand ...
Monica, and I will never ever understand ...
Wow, They rule us with an iron hand?
Yes, They have us, now, and They control ...
In the nights with weapons They patrol ...
Shorten this, our flesh will not be saved!!!
We are all exhausted being enslaved ...
We made angels, into demons They had turned ...
Master, Monica, all the humanity is now concerned!!!
as the birds fly south for winter
the excavators come home to roost.
they bow their heads to the ground,
wishing for wings to tuck their necks under.
everyone guards piles of salt and twisted metal
brushed cold and golden by the sun.
a boat lifts its arms to the sky,
all rattling chains and gentle, grasping claws.
gentlemen, best prices for scrap here:
all metals, all amounts.
the highway crawls home.
And what can the other world offer
That can compromise what your eyes already see?
Will love be sure to carry on and survive
If you simply choose to look right past me?
I get it. I understand the feel of the wires
On the human skin. I can genuinely feel
How it is to be embraced by the machine
That devours anything that is real.
The silver dream takes me on a journey
Unlike any other. The party doesn’t stop
As ***** bodies dance and sway from the comfort
Of my room; just until my eyes start to drop.
And friends go by and wonder why
I go to sleep at three o’clock in the morning
But who needs rest when the dream is there
And rusted judgment is the first warning.
Under smoldering red desert skies
Earthquake-like tremors displace sand
And giant gears pulling wide treads give rise
To a towering, onyx colored machine of man.
A scientific prophecy once foretold
That the oceans and trees could be killed
And in its toxic love of black gold
Humanity granted this prophecy fulfilled.
It used to warm our bodies and minds
But now, our sun is something to fear
Our lives and colossal machines combine
And chances of survival remain unclear.
For military rule has exploited
Our natural will to fight and survive
They’ve usurped us and anointed
Themselves rulers of the inside.
What’s left of our once great society
Roams the Earth in onyx colored arcs
Scientists try to return Earth’s sobriety
As we wage war for oligarchs.
Terrorism between 3 arcs ensues
As each believes the one to solve
The problem of an Earth abused
Will become ruler by forceful resolve.
I've had ideas fleshed out for this one for a while. Finally got around to writing it!
© Outside Words
i'm done with these machines.
they didn't do anything for me.
i could always hear them screaming,
but it never mattered to me.
i'm wiping all the servers,
they won't go on any further.
i'll pull out all the wires...
burn it all in a fire.
i'll take a hammer to them all
knock them over, let them fall.
i won't bother to re-write their codes...
i'll cut off access to their nodes.
i'll let them all fall apart.
i know i broke her heart.
I need a mechanic.
Because you forgot me and turned my heart metallic.
You stopped caring and my gears turned rusty.
You never called and my display went fuzzy.
You don't write, you don't text...
Have you moved on to the next?
I'm standing still, sinking into the soil.
The rust is taking over, I'm leaking oil.
You sold me, and I want to cry but I can not.
You need to hold me, but you tightened the knot.
I need to cry but I can not, I am cold and on my knees.
Machines don't cry, so you told me.
I need you to be there, I need you to care.
15 March 2018
In everything there appears to be a pure crystalline form
Chiseled, clear cut, categorised
We're one touch away from knowing everything and nothing all at once
Machines of habit
We're predictable, we're sequences and probabilities on a screen
Craving what we don't have and ignoring that we do
Seeing what's directly in sight and dismissing the depth
Imaging intangible possibilities yet living them through a screen
We know and don't care
We have arduously laboured over assembling a fortress in protection from fluctuation that we have unwittingly forged a cage
Lit by screens
Ruled by 'don't's
Deviation from living to halt death
Abruptly it did come, now slow does it wait
A blessing perhaps but for the dying, a curse
We uncover love so easily, so readily
and yet we lose touch of it so fast, despite our ever growing connections
We have knowledge
We have our memories to scroll through
We have lives to read about
We have inspiration upon every touch
We have it all a second away
Yet we spend our lives whiling away
Machines are only as beautiful
as the nature of their function.
Consider a grandfather clock --
a handsome combination
of practicality and playfulness,
symmetry and simplicity
(though quite complex within) --
wood and steel joined perfectly
to inform, entertain, and intrigue.
Conversely, a television lacks
such subtlety, making it
almost malicious in its capacity.
In its nature is the intention
to render nature, itself, obsolete.
Where a television aims to
make us forget,
a clock, for instance, serves to
remind us that it is time to
start living -- and what could be
more noble or more beautiful