"technocratic" poems
(the tics will talk 'til twelve o'clock)
When we make time,
When we listen:
The theistic preach deistic talk;
The atheistic preach pragmatic talk;
The agnostic preach proleptic talk;
The heretic preach shismatic talk;
The mystic preach prophetic talk.
(the mesianic and satanic never stop)
When we have time;
Then we listen:
The optimistic teach hypnotic talk;
The pessimistic teach sarcastic talk;
The altruistic teach empathetic talk;
The idealistic teach synergistic talk;
The pacifistic teach semantic talk;
The body politic teach charismatic talk;
The technocratic teach robotic talk;
The romantic teach poetic talk;
The critic teach cathartic talk;
The moralistic teach dualistic talk;
The ascetic teach platonic talk.
(the artist would rather not talk)
When we find time,
Do we listen:
The lunatic speak quizzotic talk;
The neurotic speak pathetic talk;
The chauvanistic speak monistic talk;
The nihilistic speak ballistic talk;
The hedonist speak narcissistic talk;
The futuristic speak galactic talk.
(the minimalist hasn't the time to talk)
Just don't.
Look.
Some tic reset the clock.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
Creating a new poem is like creating a new story
a new paradigm from the depths of history's bowls
from a nightmare, we are to create a dreamscape
something that tantalizes the soul, and draws us near
to the greater perfection within ourselves... who knew?
Creating a new poem, much like a new society
has to start from within, and be drawn out somehow,
and some will be more inspired than others to invent
their own approach, to instill their own values,
to be critical enough to recognize what is most sacred
Creating a new poem demands the ability of the artist
to take hold of his or her feelings, thoughts, and intuit
the flow of consciousness in just the right cadence
remembering the song of ages that goes and flows
Being the poet that you are, your heart is stretched and open
yet you are afraid to be as the caged bird: freedom frightens you!
And in creating your new, new poem, you would be as angels
singing from the achrimony of the ages, singing light and dark
good and evil: but remember god and devil are just a letter off both ways.
Creating a new world is like creating a new poem: if you let go
and just do it, the miracle will wash away the banality of a bygone age
and the new **** will be born as a rose red flower in flames
before the technocratic temple of bright lights and ********
Create a new art, artists, poets, and those average ager's
be a revolution in the heart, an evolution in the swing,
bring first the arrogance, then the confidence of knowing:
you are the master who makes the grass green: the universe in your eyes
the solar flare in your step, and change this world from a prison
to a paradise!
Create your new poem, and singe it like a caged bird!
Give your language the power of princes, without the pomp
believe in yourself and let go of the awkward moment you had
with the love of your dreams last night; create your new life
and transform this new poem into a rally cry for the poet class!
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
What did I ever do
to deserve a world where
avocados are underripe while they're overripe,
pens cede before their ink is spent,
rivers run dry, aquifers deplete?
What choice do I have
but to opt out of the technocratic misery,
overlorded by the Slither Circle,
to make my sways of the sun replete?
My country has a Military Complex
that fought wars over bananas.
My country prints Monsters on Money,
a desecrated spell to spill nature's blood
and use it in every commodity:
the ink, the encasements, the coatings,
the stains, the sealants, the wrappers,
even the food and medicine.
What did I do?
I ate. I wrote. I used.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 9:39 AM UTC
Kumbaya, O written words, customize your thoughts into bite-sized
Nuggets, and store them in the clouds – in the huge video of the sky.
Always easier to see the movie than to read the book, right? This isn’t
Being lazy – this is efficiency, this is learning to hear and see quickly.
Emoji-me your innermost feelings – and make it snappy, yet truthful –
Obvious like a pebble gracefully striking the water’s surface. Forsake
The grimness brought by the news of the day – be not obsessed!
Bow down and worship chirps, tweets and posts, and share them.
In the looking glass you can see diminished contemplations as
They drift into nothingness – even the brightness of a smile is
A smirk turned to stone – our language and our soul are a morbid
Collection of dry bones on a sickly precipice.
The new generation is born of a slain, technocratic parent – their
21st birthdays celebrated beneath the fallen soldiers of newsprint –
A new world in which a museum houses the letters and arts of
A coherent paragraph now called a blurb. Kumbaya.
© Lewis Bosworth, 9-2017
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
Kumbaya, O written words, customize your thoughts into bite-sized
Nuggets, and store them in the clouds – in the huge video of the sky.
Always easier to see the movie than to read the book, right? This isn’t
Being lazy – this is efficiency, this is learning to hear and see quickly.
Emoji-me your innermost feelings – and make it snappy, yet truthful –
Obvious like a pebble gracefully striking the water’s surface. Forsake
The grimness brought by the news of the day – be not obsessed!
Bow down and worship chirps, tweets and posts, and share them.
In the looking glass you can see diminished contemplations as
They drift into nothingness – even the brightness of a smile is
A smirk turned to stone – our language and our soul are a morbid
Collection of dry bones on a sickly precipice.
The new generation is born of a slain, technocratic parent – their
21st birthdays celebrated beneath the fallen soldiers of newsprint –
A new world in which a museum houses the letters and arts of
A coherent paragraph now called a blurb. Kumbaya.
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 12:45 PM UTC