Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Always Too Eager for the Future

The new man is born too old to tolerate the new world. The present conditions of life have not yet erased the traces of the past. We run too fast, but we still do not move enough. He looks but he does not contemplate, he sees but he does not think. He runs away from time, which is made of thought, and yet all he can feel is his own time, the present. ― Eugenio Montale

Possibilities of many minds
They peep forward in time
Slowly time ticks away
Present becomes Past
Future is Present today

Of all the habits I picked
You were worst and best
I do not present explaining
Why we did what we did
Of all things that I have sad

Every walk was a test
I can still taste presence
Of your perfect defenses
Some things ever escape
Perfectly modeled cages

What is it that I seek?
In these cracks in time
All’s lost and sand
Here I too stand

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Mechanical Overdose

The machine has got to be accepted, but it is probably better to accept it rather as one accepts a drug - that is, grudgingly and suspiciously. Like a drug, the machine is useful, dangerous and habit-forming. The oftener one surrenders to it the tighter its grip becomes.
George Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier

Life, so mechanical to me it seems
Pressing buttons and sliding screens
Eyes locked as seldom they stop
Moving parts so fewer we got
What to hide and what to voice?
Day after day nothing more
Addled by abundance in store
Void all around, what’s not to fill?
Nowhere to go with little skills
Man needs love is all that is
Machines knows no love
Peace is never on
On luminous screens

Heart full of wander
Shouldn't be stilled for long
Romance is lived
It isn't reflected on
Rusting lives away
Stop, hold on

Incomprehensible machine man is
Is mechanical life at all humane?


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