We live in a world of our own creation.
Born in an age of technical revolution.
Thinking we’d better our lot on Earth,
We’re lost in this gone-off devolution,
Sad age of sour milk and cyclamates,
Our only values weighed in dollars and cents,
Our devil is another Value Added Tax,
On the next shoddy toy that we want to buy,
Made in factories of an emerging nation…
Our factories closed, since capital decided
The working people earned far too much.
Cities moulder and decay as economies die,
Whole families become homeless,
Tension grows, young people kill themselves
And their fellow students,
In a secular libertarian promised land
Gone sour, without love for humanity.
Whilst children toil and die to keep prices down,
Everything in the west in now imported.
Oh no, I exaggerate, we still excel in creating,
Nutrition-free food full of cheap new chemicals.
Oh “Brave New World” that’s ’round the corner
Of passive eugenic biological robots,
With pet tested allergic-free
Electronic chips to control them,
Culture-free schools to educate them,
And health programmes created to eliminate,
Dystopian nightmare over,
I awoke, to write this poem,
Born, from sombre contemplation
Of dictats, made by just one nation,
Whose ideals are attractive,
But whose roots are rotten.
For liberty, is not buying power,
Nor is man, more than a small part
Of the Universe, we call creation.
Evolution is not the next new invention
of some mad industrial scientist,
But learning to take a step beyond
Our self-centred vision of life
Moving foreward, going beyond,
Our symian nature.
Written for Prompt #011 of We Drink Because We’re Poets