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M Lundy Dec 2010
i pull in to work
pour in the door like a refugee
fumble in my bag for a
microchipped key fob.
it lets me in the third entrance,
slurring curses that reverb in the hall.

i stumble to my desk, clock in
with my computerized time card
and make my way to the coffee ***.
it always has this smirk, like it knows
it's my saving grace.
i hate the coffee *** for that.
i hate the coffee ***.

insert earphones
High Violet by The National.
sounds penetrate my ears and swirl
in my head,
sending sparks from the microchip
situated just behind my eyes
that tells me there are only grades and work
and television and pin-up girls.

monday morning, i will file a complaint against
myself
i need truth through camera lens
i need honesty
i need deeper meaning

a drunk girl kissed me under gilded mistletoe
once
when i was 16.
i need more than that.
Copyright 2010 M.E. Lundy
Take my hand - you've got to
feel fun time's heading
closer
Futuristic daydreams
are at hand -handy!
microchipped wild
boys and girls
on rent - hardly paid off -
dance! Roll the dice!
Flicker eyes!
Adrift on the dimlit
flourescent
effervescent
reflector rays°°°°you're
never lost or at loss;
Coloured circles glide
across the dancefloor__
bouncy boots swoon, high heels
crack, remastered barefoot Tribe~
Enjoys momentary revelations!
Latino lovers attracting
honey dew magnetic more-s
rain coats off - smiley coasts shine on~
those cunning shenanigan freckles
pressed redhair beauties against
needy torsos in ecco-leather jackets  
electrified silhouettes stunning
like elves un-fading beauty  
transforming tuxedos
of a tight
night; a jingle of
Prague crystals into
one dancing wave submerged
by the vicinity of hissing tongues  
-been- beaten by fierce kissing
in a stronghold ballroom
frenzy - polarized
beatings - hi-s and bye-s ; a
stroboscopic syncopation
ecstatic hips,  
space shuttle
trips
mingled nirvana at a+
futuristic dream
realm
V Jan 2013
There are those who have a place,
And those who lost one.
Those who change the world,
And those who are never known by it.
The seen and unseen.
This girl is average.
Like every other.
Manufactured in a child labored factory,
Under horrifying conditions.
Yet she makes the cut, as imperfect as she is.
to live in this imperfect world,
Obsessed with perfection.
Twisted into believing that it is.
Has not enough beauty marks,
And to many zits to pop.
Focuses on high maintenance,
Forgets the festering wound.
Not quite a reject she is.
The bi-product of searching for that ONE with IT.
****** into a fast paced life with a slight limp, and a stuttered lisp.
Unable to catch up.
Yet she hears, and sees,
And knows.
"I was created to fill a space, and yet I have no place."
A clone of every other,
Same microchipped thoughts.
Walking aimlessly on a planet with no room.
Purpose for the purposeless,
Eat or be eaten.
But you can not eat without utensils,
And you weren't packaged with these necessities.
To feed with your hands is primal,
And not accepted.
Live this life until you die,
Unknown and alone.
We all walk the same stories,
Each thinking we are our own.
Some separate, and find a way,
Never looking back.
But for those of us who walk with that limp,
We will never get it fixed.
And in this fast paced "perfect" world,
Where we can't catch up,
We will never find our way.
Live unknown to die alone.
But alas it is our mindset that makes the difference
Is it not?
The challenge is re-coding what we were made into.
Loving ourselves, and fighting for the imperfect world.
Instead of accepting the roles given by society.
That's when we will become someone different.
But it's not easy.
It rarely ever is.
eatmorewords Apr 2017
maps coloured in,
places where I’ve been
other maps show stolen land, places of war,
cemeteries marked with crosses
– plague cities black ringed
– places of pogroms marked pins –
arrows indicate migrationary trails –
outward from Africa monkey man to homosapien
the evolution of the thumb &
blind fishes

(the first restaurant sold primordial soup)

in Precambrian forests they hired
priests to baptise micro-chips before they left the factory
holy water sprayed from water pistols
– microchipped meat
you are a small blip on a map
on a map on a screen
on a screen in a room that doesn’t exist –
a small blip flashing

a liver made in a factor
a wooden lung

so many pills
she sounds like a maraca when she walks down the street –
rattle rattle rattle
– pills for all kinds of alignments
weight loss
erectile dysfunction
laser eyes
internal rot
diseased *****
side effects two many to mention
the Elvis shakes
Sam Temple Oct 2015
I will

never

be microchipped,


even if

I

am ostracized.
Tyler Zempel Dec 2018
A Deplorable Action and Internal Regret

Thunder cracks open the dark gray skyline, unleashing its contents onto the quiet, flat plane below.
Lightening dances around the sky putting on a dazzling show.
A man sits alone in a dark, quiet house firmly holding a cold, unforgiving pistol,
unfazed by the increasingly violent weather outside his broken front window that’s being presented to him as a symbol
to signify that the end has arrived.
His heart beat is fading and soon it will become impossible to revive.
He stares blankly at his computer screen horrified.
With his heart shattered and his soul destroyed, the numb barley living carcass he has turned into is responsible for a crime far worse than genocide.
Putting a bullet in between his eyes right now is more than justified.
He caused this…he is the mastermind.

One dot remains active on his computer screen.
He closes his eyes fighting back tears, consequences this severe were not foreseen.
Twelve billion dots use to be present on his computer screen, that’s twelve…billion…dots.
Far too many, or so the global elite had thought.
A global population of twelve Billion had all been microchipped to track their whereabouts at all times.
He should have known better, he saw the warning signs,
but now it’s too late and a population of twelve billion people on a dying, decaying world is down to one.
Him, the lone survivor, a fate he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
He is the last surviving human on the flat plane known as Earth.
Extinction is on the horizon, there will be no rebirth.

It’s his fault that mankind has reached extinction.
He went along with the plan given to him by his boss’s, the global elite, and helped carry out their mission
of reducing the world population by seventy-five percent to save the dying world and its resources.
They paid him handsomely for his service.
They instructed him to create a fast spreading, deadly disease to fulfill their plan.
He knew what he was doing was wrong, knew the plan was flawed and wasn’t ever a fan,
but turning away from it would have gotten him murdered.
Now he wishes he had.

He was instructed to create a cure that would be released once the population decrease hit its mark.
He thought he had the formula nailed down and had hit it out of the ballpark.
But he was wrong, his formula was flawed
and did nothing to stop the spread of the disease.

Second by second, dots dropped off his computer screen.
He watched the dots disappear all the way from twelve million down to the teens,
to now just one, him.
Death calls his name but what awaits him on the other side is rather grim.
Eternal damnation in hell fire.
The blood of twelve billion on his hands is not something the father is going to look kindly upon after he expires.

He was paid ninety-three million for his disease.
Money he burned after the plan went to ****.
What good is money now anyways when you’re the only one left?
He can’t even donate some of it to an invited quest.
The extinction of the human species is on his hands.
Isn’t that kind of fate just grand?

He takes a deep breath, sits back in his chair and places his gun in his mouth.
He doesn’t want to die, but it’s time to face his maker and send his soul down to the very deep south.
He closes his eyes tight fighting back the nerves of what he’s about to do.
Even after death, the day he created his disease will be a day he forever rues.
He asks God for forgiveness, truly sorry for what he has done, but not expecting forgiveness to be granted.
He will be greeted with harsh criticism and quickly reprimanded.
He takes one last deep breath, places his finger on the trigger and gets ready to pull…
…as a knock on the front door interrupts the proceedings.

A knock?
At the front door?
How is that possible?
Thoughts of confusion rush through his head.

He stands up from his chair and walks slowly to the front door.
He places his hand on the ****, then in his mind counts to four.
He slowly turns the **** and opens to door revealing…
nothing on the other side.

He walks outside looking around by finds no one in the area.
It’s probably just him becoming a victim of hysteria,
or the weather playing a trick on his mind.
Who is he kidding, he is the only one left of all mankind.

He turns around and steps back inside the house where he instantly stops.
Sweat begins to pour down his face as he feels his jaw drop.
Standing in front of him is a young child holding out his gun.
Shocked, he’s unsure if he should stay and chat or take off and run.

The child smiles, “you left your gun behind sir, I wish to return it to you.
You are going to need it very soon.”

“Who are you?
Where did you come from?
Are there others like you still alive?”

“Come sit down in your chair and all shall be revealed.
My mission here is not to conceal,
but to open your eyes to what you must do.”

The man takes a seat back in his chair unsure of what to make of the boy.

“Who are you with?
How are you still alive?”

“I’m not alive…and neither are they.”

The man looks around the room as suddenly he is surrounded by hundreds of children, both boys and girls.
Their skin is pale.
Their eyes gray and lifeless.
They all chant barely above a whisper something he can’t make out.
He looks back at the original boy still smiling in front of him.
Now may be the time for him to start singing some hymns.

“We are part of the twelve Billion lives you have taken with your selfish actions.
Granted we are a small fraction
of all the souls you stole and robbed of life,
but this gets the point across that it’s time for you to come face to face with a knife.
In this case your gun.
We were sent here by our father to ensure you do what must be done,
for he awaits your soul and can’t wait to meet you.”

“Just who is your father?”

“Lucifer, why?  Did you think God was going to come for you?”

The man breaks down, tears falling from his eyes,
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!
I…I…I…was forced into making the virus!
They would have killed me if I didn’t do what they wanted!”

“At least you would have gone to Heaven and saved twelve Billion lives,
but now it’s too late for that,
so, take the gun, place it in your mouth and pull the trigger now.
The human species survival is no longer allowed.”
The man, crying hysterically, places the gun into his mouth.
He asks God one last time for forgiveness but accepts the fact that he is about to head south.
He pulls the trigger, a bullet rips through his brain, exits out of his skull and comes to rest in the wall behind him.
The light of the world begins to dim
as darkness creeps in corrupting his soul.

The final dot on the computer screen in front of him flashes three times
then disappears as the final man dies out.
The extinction of mankind is now complete.
**** issued from invisible magic dragon,
which nobody dead sea
immediately disrupting electricity
whereat mice elf (Stuart Little), i.e. me,
no particular rhyme nor reason
called Mickey, plus the missus Minnie

found ourselves literally
in the dark, no pleasant thrill
as well adjacent community
named Maple Hill
approximately few hundred

residents in toto ill
nope, no light to busy
sanity claws writing with quill
thus no alternative,
but forced to remain stock still,
the provolone ideal time

to look for cheeses crust
or crumbs, cuz thankfully tenant
occupying unit b44  never dust
nor keep their apartment
**** and span trust

ting bulge of debris under the rug
not seen by jail warden this August
two thousand nineteen,
cuz she would most likely bust
with anger, which would
bubble forth analogous just

like when volcanoes blow
off their high top
most lava lee phenomenon
unforgettable did stop
people dead in their tracks
saw Pompeii pop
yule lore for tourists to shop
for timeless dude dads till they drop

similar to yours truly at my behest
recently awoken from rest
earlier could chest
barely breathe suffocating blessed
not only mister

and missus expressed
above regarding power outage no jest
gasping for air oppressed
without electricity - society at mercy
to guarantee life hums along

without power to the people,
I forthrightly attest
idyllic climate controlled nest
comes to screeching halt
creature comfort amenities rest

at peace as if lightly
****** by black hole
this primate unaccustomed to test
his brittle mettle,
and loathed experiment

conducted by fates forced to sweat
approximately twelve long hours est
tab bull lest
stark admittance, I would be carrion
eh, a mere snack

if archaeopteryx made guest
appearance, a quest
going awry see Jurassic Park
object lesson aye did wrest
maybe genetic tinkering,
yes think GMO

microchipped **** sapiens
created with ablest
means to weather severing
how 21st century civilization did invest
ingenious dependence banked upon,
where electrons get fervently pressed.

— The End —