Artificial Eden: Future Shock Poem by DM W

Schizophrenic culture:
Culture without memory;
Culture torn between
Agony and ecstasy

Can we ever experience again
The subtle delights of nature?
Or did we ever, will we ever embark
On deep, fulfilling relationships?

This global village of instant access
Cannot dissolve the boundaries between us.
The vast universe of mysterious Presence
is no longer sought out; no longer explored

Now we're satisfied
With this virtual world
That sustains and entertains
Within our four walls;
But we can't deny
The existence; the cries
Of a deep seated absence
That demands attention.

In such a solipsistic universe,
The schizophrenic prefers
The electric aura of the virtual.
Its radiance beats mundane reality.


Perhaps we're experiencing
A collective schizophrenia;
A normalised pathology
Of illusory reality.

Endless amnesia,
sound byte psychosis;
Zapping or zero consciousness;
Recession of reality
Impatience without depth
T.V reveals everything
But has nothing to say.
The infinite variety
Of classical music;
Literature and painting
Seems unable to relieve
Our current malaise

Even newer art forms boldly mixing styles,
Which can be vital and exciting,
Are drowned out by the daily blare
Of asinine advertisements

Idly scanned material:
Switch from news to soap opera;
From sports to documentary;
Trapped in a permanent present
Without reference point,
Or historical perspective.


Counterfeit culture;
A culture of denial.
Everything is destined
To reappear as simulation:


Anarchism as street smart fashion;
Landscapes as photography;
Perfect male and female forms perverted
By the cheap lustre of pornography.
The bleakest human face
Of tragedy and disaster
Is rendered meaningless.
It becomes just another
Freely floating image
Competing for attention.


The media is like a black magician;
Who dares to create graven images;
Who inverts reality:
Who defies all deities;
Who tries in vain to conjure up
A spectre of authenticity


Which always ends up removed from reality
This is the world's strange, dark destiny;
The world reappears as pure artifice
An advertiser's copy of its own totality.


What we can still
Ostensibly call human
Is quickly receding.
An in built death wish,
Thanatos in over drive
Could wipe the slate clean.
A cybernetic civilisation
Awaits on the horizon
Ready to rear its monstrous head
A silicon gorgon so obscene
Schizophrenic culture:
A culture torn apart;
A culture on the brink,
Of permanent destruction

As this Artificial Eden we have foolishly created,
Sinks further into a twinkling, babbling quicksand;
We live dominated by and addicted to gadgets.
And yet we have qualities sadly unused:
Of creativity and spirituality.

Tied by a sense of common humanity;
We share a rich, vibrant vocabulary.
Now our sense of who we are, or thought we were
Appears to be dragged down and dictated
By futile consumer dreams and demands.