A Transhumanist heard a clock tick
And said “time I shall lick”.
And the clock said, “progress,
Regress, progress, regress”,
As the hands did trace
The clock’s round face
From beginning to beginning,
Forever spinning:
“Progress, regress, progress, regress . . .”.
And the Transhumanist said,
Nought, for he was long since dead.
When they say
“You must be in the progressive way”,
I shall talk
Of my walk
Of earlier today.
Of the wind’s dance,
And of more than one fallen branch.
The Whig
Was big
On progress. while the Tory Squire
Sat by his fire
And said “let it be
For the ancient tree
Is mainly of good
Wood”.
And what of me
Who all around does see
The venerable tree
Brought low?
I would go
Where the great oaks still grow,
But most of those who should conserve
No longer preserve.
It will all end in tears before teatime
And the poet’s rhyme
Has nothing to say to those obsessed
With what some call progress.
The technophiles delight
In maintaining the future is bright
And themselves excite
With a dream
That does seem
To others, to constitute a nightmare
Ending in despair.
The neural net
Has not been seen yet.
A place where man himself entangles
And mangles,
Or maybe he
Is free
A great song which always makes me pause for thought, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izQB2-Kmiic).
Kevin
Susan Vega at her best in “Portrait Of The Knight Of Wands”. For me the song is about the collapse of our technological civilisation. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyhk8z6BeO8).
K Morris - Poet 