Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Blue Babies ~ Lucy Hilton

I see a generation of
Remixed geniuses
Weakened and dreaming
And seasick from unrelenting undulation,
Caught between destruction and distraction.
Conditioned by the screen and watched over by machines
of loving grace.
Connected but never seeing.
Never Being.
Swimming in dubious data pools,
Transmedia, transcending.
Their new age appetite
demanding instant enlightenment.
Too bored and blundering to boycott
The Ipad is their Clairvoyant
Demonstrating the presence of spirits in the room.
Notable charlatans.
Ringing bells, levitating objects, performing the rites of passage
Coming of age in the technological rocket ship
and moving freely through unutterable margins
Infiltrating the co-operations,
Sidestepping the protocol.
Power to the hijacker,
hacker, slacker,
Happy slapper.
The twinkle of his phantom eye
Stills behind their webcams.
No where is safe for the pilgrim.
He cant escape the omnipresent rhythm.
They must
Draw the line between truth seeking and obsession.
Answers lead to utopia or hysteria.
You have a choice
to live in
Permeable membranes, spindly fringes of the hive
Or reach the limits of what you can cognize.
Neil Armstrong is Alien backwards.
Space helmets are halos.
Over saturated and shattered by
Broken promises of salvation
The pool of inner peace,
Your true nature is a
Watery end.
The future is transcendence.

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