machine and man

machine and man

A Poem by RuseInex

long ago in modern terms of the electronic age
the age of quantum-ness in regards to computer chips
in age of micro-ness circuitry, wireless satellite techo-industries -
long ago circa 1800's age when cast iron wood stoves
for cooking and heating were used
with oil lamps and lanterns and leather and stone
with iron tools and vessels such as tongs and pots
for handling fiery hot materials and food
forged by smelters and anvils -
long ago, a scant 100 years or so, by our way of reflection
by our standard landmark of looking into the past
by our books and internet
by our media
long ago we lived in a simpler world
by our modern, for the time conveniences
ox and plow
barn and house
cobbled paved streets conveyances,
we handled things by human brute force
aided by four legged mammalian beasts
and human labor
tote that bag, pound that spike,
shovel and hammer -

simpler, without the million devices or so we have today,
large, small and in between
some things used between index finger and thumb
others larger, like the smart phone or tablet
monitors, wires  packages of peripherals
for printing, mirroring/
music videos, entertainment business cybermarket place
ultra large for viewing gobs of eye data and candy treats
hdtv 52 inch in diagonal measure and way beyond
with all the wires and techno things that tax the body frame and mind
whether to maintain upgrade or replace
whether for practical reason or simply for counteracting the obsolete
like the phone booth, encyclopedia set or analog t.v. -

our lives expedited with wonders of colors via denser pixels per surface area
or sound quadraphonic surround in 3 d
(we wait for taste and feel to our sensory nerves, including smell of fragrance- odor by default)
we wait for man and machine to become as one

© 2017 RuseInex


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Added on January 22, 2017
Last Updated on January 22, 2017

Author

RuseInex
RuseInex

Fresno, CA



About
I was born in obscurity Outside a small country town’s limits In a plank shack I kept a few memories That come into my head That i still carry around That i visit now and then The dust .. more..

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