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A true and evolving story.

If you listen carefully, or indeed

with just one earnestly sceptical ear, 

you can hear the scansorial mewling 

of influencers seeking to scale heights;

as dunning and yapping in concert,

they are both joint and several 

in their liability as they fill the 

endlessness of space with a billion 

megabytes of excruciating inanity.

Meantime, the Billy no mates,

of the tech world, remain diligent

in their search for new ways to 

disconnect the great unwashed.

Their largesse knowing no bounds

as they log every last little titbit.

(Oh, she had eggs for breakfast,

how interesting,) (and look at him 

telling his loved one he's at a different

place his smart phone tells us he's at.)

Naughty, naughty boy!

And all across the vastness of continents,

midnight warriors in shapeshifting hoodies 

are active in their worlds of virtual reality,

manipulating toggles and triggers and 

joysticks in unnatural seclusion, 

as CGI heroes and heroines are reborn

again and again, and the whipcrack of gunfire 

is muted to a soothing lullaby, whilst the fox, 

as wily as those Billy no mates tech ninjas, 

wreaks havoc in the chicken pen.

Nevertheless, life, of a sorts, goes on. 

Grain ripens, butterflies and bunnies abound;

a new born lamb sleeps beneath the stars,

cuddling close to mother, blissfully unaware;

(though mother knows,) as does the mother

in a famine stricken, war torn country

knows her starving child may not see 

another sunrise; as fitful in her bed, 

she prays to her God that the men with 

washed hands and stones for hearts 

will somehow be forever stilled.

But still the gulf grows, solace surrendered 

to lip service. It is as if we are his forever 

spinning forsaken creation. A lost tribe

 where dividend is prized over divinity 

and demons deify dark over light,

their fat, bejewelled fingers replete with profit.

No tongue paying heed to good will to all men,

the natural order of things disdained;

as the stars beneath which the lamb and the 

child sleep eternal, fall like vast hailstones,

and the cleansing of both sinner and the sinned

becomes less than chaff blown in the wind.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

I find this so intellectually and faithfully beguiling. An intelligent yet beautiful piece of writing. Which indeed if you think about it and that is what you simply have to do here, is what all poetry should be about. The epitome of a tour de force Beccy.

[Andrew2401]

Incredibly far reaching poem. You are so right about how far in the wrong direction we are now travelling.

More and more the line between reality and the virtual world is blurred and it serves us no good I fear.

Andrew2401

[willweb]

Wow, now that was incredibly deep and holds so much truth it must weigh a ton. You have created different picture for me that all seem to form into one huge panorama of the world today. I envisioned my television, telephone and my computer all watching as I type this, all coming up with their definition of me and if I am a benefit to society or should be exterminated. I saw wars being fought via video games and that worried mother with crying baby trying frantically to turn the power off and end the game. This poem blew me away. Very emotive, very creative and very, very cool.

[emmajoygreen]

Powerful and thoughtful go hand in hand here. No leeway on that un-right one hand, rip the lack of finesse, true intelligence, a step or half into their own home.made ripped apart world. Due to be demolished by richer, more expensive depraved technology that take a body apart with merely by shooting from the hip or a finger tip on a button, probe word into the air. You say it all superbly, many will stand in the shadow of your thinking.
Your brain, imagination and more, sift thought the petty and make mockery a first class reaction of our so called Mankind. What's kind?!

Chaff blown in the wind? Will each and all survive?

[Neville]

its a funny old sad old world when the focus of so many is clearly either on themselves, or some other irrelevance while the wars and the pain and the hunger continue to rage all around them .. Be sure I'm in your corner B ... N x

[Lorry]

And the award for best title everer, goes to you! 😊.
And now after reading this in its entiruty, I'm left thinking I should have written this, but doubt I'd have managed it as expletive free as you have.
The inane, unsane world of owning and using a keyboard as their weapon of choice, will only truly be seen as its own trafmgedy at a life wasted, when it is too late for them to make amends. Their final, lonely Dearg rattles will be when they finally grow up and view their own pointlessness, as it comes to its own tragic end.
And as for the influences... Who are they influencing? Just a bunch od empty shells, painted and preened into stepfordville mode and wouldn't recognise a personality if it jumped up and bit their face off! And yes, I do know the time it took me to type that and for you to read it is time neither of us will see again, so next slide please! 😊
Famine, war and strife always seem to be with us and maybe, just maybe, if the pointless ones named above, gave even 1% of the energy they waste on being so pointless, they could make a real difference to the never ending stream of real life suffering going on in the real life world ™ patent pending.
Maybe one day realisation will hit them on how truly vapid they are, but I doubt it.
Great piece. Cthought provoking and powerful words, to keep in mind, especially when seeing someone take a photo of their coffee/ lunch that they had the skill and talent to make neithheer and know that at least it's a good thing they can't mind read 😊