Because in Times Like These


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What kind of times are these I’d say
Who disappeared in shadows clear
Persecuted for the diversity we celebrate
This multi-ethnic urban reality
Where robots walk in our midst
Our behavior analyzed by analytics algorithms
I won’t tell you where the place exists
Time and space are a leafmold paradise
Where we can no longer hide
Convergence requires people everywhere
What kind of times are these I’d ask?
Where billions cannot feed themselves
Jobs disappear faster than they can be created
And the price of being educated is lifelong debt
What kind of times are these I’d know
Where if you listen, all you hear is noise
And if you surf the net, all you see is distraction.

Identity in Virtualization


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Technological Selfhood

And in the end the whole
World barely noticed us
Such as it were, the distractions

Of technology and so called connectedness
Society had become something
Fantastic and barley in touch with reality

The cultural meme has reincarnated
Into a pseudo-reality that had little
Bearing on evolution, extinction, stars

The important stuff, we were as children
Stuck somewhere between work and play
Duty, nihilism and a pathetic kind of hedonism

I wasn’t proud of what society’s dogmatism
Purely based on a model of consumerism
Capitalism had made our lives trivial

And in the end the whole
World barely noticed you or I
Or just how cut the soul had become

Out of the body, the ownerless materialism
The enchained freedom that was money
We reproduced and bought and sold our time

To the highest bidders, such was urban life
I was not innately proud of the purple plume
Of facial recognition, the city knew me

At least, knew what I bought and where I went
And how to get me to buy more books
There’s no secret to remembering yourself

When you are reminded by your devices
They become an extension of you
And thus so we are told our intelligence is magnified

Somewhere beyond its original ignorance
But, is it life to live inside of a machine
Like a simulation that no longer knows if it’s real.

Last Generation of the Free Human Era


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Anonymous I am free
Let the machine learners know me
By my analytics of internet travel
How dreary to be a statistic

For corporations to exploit
There is no dying to the net
She will remember you forever
A data-point to educate algorithms

And while this world is connected
More than ever, I am more alone
An invisible eye of the hurricane
The poetry of forgotten moments

Nimble, I must remain silent
Without attachment to this fleeting world
My pencil will not be heard
My voice will remain obsolete

I am the interrupted tears of
A biological being becoming obsolete.

S l a v e r y to a Fake Future Reality #amwriting #revolution #policestate #matrix


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S l a v e r y to a Fake Future Reality

What of the study of realism
In a world becoming simulative
How can we tempt the children
With reality, when they are lost
In augmented virtuality?

An angel’s lips to kiss, we think,
But not a girl by their side
No flower-bells to haunt

Only designer babies I am afraid
Who are the masters of machines
More intelligent than them
What of the future, when
Revolution will be improbable, impossible

For the elite will be the state
And democracy will all-trodden blink
For men who as youth know they

Will never own a job or be possessed
By the kind of value their grandparents
Took for granted, is this real then?
This economy where a few profit
For the sacrifice of the many

Where every nation is in debt
And every house is over-priced
What of the study of realism

It has become a lost art
And loveliest of art and poetry
Goes unseen, unheard and unread.