Minerva

August 21, 2020 at 11:02 pm (Commentary, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

And all the leather bound volumes on shelves were buried under dust
And all the gold on many crowns had finally turned to rust
A wireless library stretched across the globe
which technocrats wanted implants in everyone’s frontal lobe

Every fact and every fiction was now determined by Google
10 years hence you may see pic of Siamese cat when you search for “poodle”
And all will say it must be so
For high tech is not our foe

Alexa has replaced the shrink by the couch
With bar codes in your hands, no money to welch
Social interaction is missing like a person’s lips
Buried under a mask with one’s nose and no sinking ships

All that one sees are the other person’s eyes
Which have been Net trained to show nothing but lies
“The truth is out there” is a phrase now foreign as ancient Etruscan
if Truth ever existed, it’s as dead as electoral collusion with a Russian

The truth is not out there, it’s neither here nor there
For every day is filled with hope previous generations labelled “despair”
They march in tune to the beat of a non-existent drummer
where an eternal winter is labelled an endless summer

Good little sheep they all are
Marching near and far
For 2020 was the year most lost perfect vision
As their minds were infected by a diabolical incision

2030 was the UN’s sustainable goal
But the world’s elites bet on a closer running foal
And they got their wish
from the bottom of a Wuhan petri dish

The medium was indeed the message like Marshall McLuhan predicted
And people soon ceased calling themselves “homeless” after they were evicted
The media echoed the same message day after day
And people’s souls were lost like needle in the hay
And the Devil smiled as he sang “You’re all going my way”

“Be careful what you wish for” was now an old forgotten refrain
lost in a forgotten past like the whistle of ancient steam train
They had spent so much time in the late 20th Century watching movies
about lands of Dystopia and the post-Apocalypse
That finally when in reality it came to pass, no one asked, what is this?

Far from the madd’ing crowd that was so maddening
He lived in a home far away
surrounded by books and old leather volumes
where the sun ruled the day and the moon ruled the night
And 2 +2 = 5 was never ever right

In his mind’s eye he saw the lovely Athena
ancient goddess of wisdom that haunted his dreama’
Minerva was her Roman name
and she bore wisdom’s flame

Holding ancient scrolls
She pointed towards those
Who sought her light still
like one man alone on the side of a hill
Who sought neither the blue nor the Matrix red pill
For all medication inclined for a soul to kill

Her owl flew in the direction
of a world far from perfection
Knowledge to impart
Even just for one was a start.

-A poem written by Christopher
Friday August 20th
2020.

19 Comments

  1. Jo said,

    Yep, I agree, we live interesting times. 😦

  2. Dawn Renee said,

    Beautiful, true, true, and sad. I barely recognize this place any more. It’s like one day I found the glasses from “They Live”. Only the sky, nature, animals (these liberate, exonerate & tell no lies) and the dearest family I’ve loved since I was small are familiar now.

    • Dracul Van Helsing said,

      Yes, that’s so true, Dawn.

      The sky, nature and animals seem to be the only true things left.

  3. monimonikablog said,

    perfect! love it. already looking for a new place to live somewhere in the woods, but hard to find something where no drones can catch me.

  4. Kritika said,

    The truth unfolded. Fabulous read. Thank you for sharing.

  5. nightsend84 said,

    Personally I’m super dubious of owls and scrolls, but it’s a great poem. Sad, the way google has mapped the programming of entire populations. 2020 is supposed to be a special year for the order. I wonder who drew in Aquinos last breath? Maybe he’s in a cyborg / cloned body now? Either way I always imagine him as a sick man walking around with his huge staff / cattle prod.

    • nightsend84 said,

      I can see Aquino and his frickin megalomanic chanting while perfecting the ouroboros

  6. Jessica E. Larsen said,

    I love this poem. It’s funny and dark.
    This part happens to me a lot: “10 years hence you may see pic of Siamese cat when you search for β€œpoodle”” Things showing up that got nothing to do with my search.
    oh but most of all this remind me of my favorite song: Zager & Evans – In the Year 2525, which you’re most probably familiar.

  7. prolificwritersacademy said,

    I love this. Thanks for sharing.

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