The cloud floated down
and settled in town after town.
Its uninvited conquerors
silently grabbed our elders.
Oh, cloud from a faraway land –
Why now, why us, when will this end?
The wizards are working on magical potions,
the formulary based on esoteric notions.
The cosmos and Gaia accommodate
these tyrannies of fate
and try to tell us something
while we seek rebirth in the spring.
(c) 2020 Larry Kilham
We walk the desert in our land.
We see robot wrecks
scattered in the sand.
Not broken pots or beautifully carved stones,
but defunct computers and scattered phones.
We created an electronic being.
It is everywhere and is all-seeing
but is unable to conceive and birth
and is incapable of naturally dying.
Is it a box that clinks and blinks?
Does it make millions of useful things?
Or is it a pervasive spirit in a distant cloud?
This is the land of the living dead
where meaning is a quest that fled.
We forget our curiosity and imagination
while we absorb amusements and revelations
from happy-face digital media invasions.
We are alone together
and the children run by
chasing a butterfly.
Around and around we go,
ensnared in a digital romance.
Let’s escape from our urban intensity
and reignite our imagination and curiosity.
We must marshal and share our inner resolve
or here’s how the world will end -
not with a bang but a glowing screen saying
“press any key to continue”
(c) 2019 Larry Kilham
In the beginning
we came from Africa, dreaming,
traversing the savanna and desert,
imagining the bright light on the hill.
We migrated through the heartlands of Europe,
traversing the mountains and plains.
We settled down,
tending our animals and crops,
and our learned men invented science
ignited by the bright light on the hill.
They gave us energy and machines,
and the gods and kings were pleased.
We’ve walked on the powdery moon
and cured almost every ill
as we followed the bright light on the hill.
DNA and AI both threaten and glitter
as the populations roil and simmer.
and the gods and scientists began to slumber.
Ever more me-people buzz in their urban hives,
and curiosity and hope and imagination are dwindling.
Oh! The light is wavering! The dreams are fading!
And the rich become the refugees
escaping to another land,
and Nature will regain the upper hand.
(c) 2018 Larry Kilham
We walked the desert in our land.
We saw robot wrecks
scattered in the sand.
Not broken pots or pillars of stone,
but defunct computers and pieces of bone.
We heard a ghostly voice
from a gossamer muse,
“Look around for what's nice -
something besides plastics and rust.
The creations of art and music
fed the worms and now are dust.”
(c) 2017 Larry Kilham