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Automatic/Faceless (Today’s Cars, Tomorrow’s Video Soul)

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  • Automatic/Faceless (Today’s Cars, Tomorrow’s Video Soul)

    Joe Strummer dressed as Jesus Christ
    Despises the eyes plugged into their own guts
    Zombies and mummies malnourished and mistreated
    Here, the season to be jolly is a season to swiftly fuck off, more post-apocalyptic than a half-board chalet in Pontins
    All Cloudless and Clement, lamenting the aftermath, makes me sad.

    Headphones wrapped around the necks of them
    Rabbits run but trip in the needle pit………..descend into the depths of the urbane abyss
    Socialised wheels weak under the weight of this heavy machine
    Hands hung from ceilings, grab everything whilst you can
    ITVirus- Televised celebrity crucifixion sequence: don’t laugh they're only dancing.

    His Master’s Voice is a voice no stronger than the faintest whisper, fizzled hum in the screamin' wind
    Of what a particular politician said last year...something about spare change....
    And if I could, I’d give the world my heart
    But something so black can’t be of much use.
    Not a hole deep enough to dig me, where the future won’t sniff me out like robot dogs against the fox.

    Come together and maybe communicate, just a thought.
    Don’t be fooled by those headlights, they're only chasing the chain of command
    Around the world in 28 days, wastoid youth, bloated bureaucracies (28 days too many)
    The bedrock of bedlam is one that erupts upon each shuffled footstep
    Herbert Ryman ideals, waste of space, waste of time, and the vision secretes WW3akness.
    In the wake of a new day, rise up, a commune of autonomous bohemia.

    Bedizened Godhead, worshipped but unseen
    The flat-pint piss-poor armada are
    Moving into the part of town you thought the council of corrupted clowns had torn down
    Cry out for quarantine!!!! Morphine!!! Oxy-poppy!! Techno-slug! 4321
    The face of a million raves returns a martyr for the modern menace, mankind bathed before the bleaching
    See them smile so much it hurts, a suburbanisation of zion, calaboose youth caged in the ion zoon (Terms and Conditions of Blinking)

    More love in a telephone box with broken glass walls and faded graffiti memorandum
    The so called ‘Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow’..........load of bollocks.
    So kindly keep your nose out, Ordinary people blaming Other people on the problems beyond their control
    Look up to the sky and do so closely enough, can see the next planet we’re about to invade
    Thrown into the bullring, against the landlord you
    Swore down to settle your debt with or
    He’ll have the neighbourhood gassed before dawn
    Garrotted and guillotined, a commonwealth of hellions.

    Oh well
    P.S: the gun's not loaded and the TV's broken, riot on our hands, Death on Mars.
    x
    Last edited by RyanLewisWalker; 01-24-2016, 11:22 AM.

  • #2
    The poet opens with a stunning and strong opening line, immediately catching the reader's attention and compelling one to read on. He then goes on to paint visual after visual of (oftentimes) dangerous and difficult images to describe this post-apocalyptic community that has arisen.

    The poet shows a keen ear for sound play, consonance and assonance are used to good effect throughout this work.

    Many lines are stand-out and notable in their presentation. Among them, my favourites:

    Televised celebrity crucifixion sequence: don’t laugh their only dancing. ( note sp. they're, not their)

    His Master’s Voice is a voice nothing stronger than the faintest whisper— fizzled hum in the screamin' wind (consider punctuation as noted, and replacing nothing with no, for line flow)
    — I love the use of His Master's Voice, a reference back to one of the earliest recording labels.

    And if I could, I’d give the world my heart
    But something so black can’t be of much use. (Strong, very strong!)

    Don’t be fooled by those headlights, they chase the chain of command (nice. consider, Don’t be fooled by those headlights—they're only chasing the chain of command)

    The bedrock of bedlam is one that erupts upon each shuffled footstep (Yes! Great use of consonance, great image! consider, The bedrock of bedlam is one that shatters upon each shuffled footstep)

    More love in a telephone box with broken glass walls and faded graffiti memorandum (powerful wording)

    One work of caution: There's so much being said throughout the work, it almost becomes dizzying to the point of IN-effectiveness in regard to driving your points home. Also, I don't see the purpose of using jargon such as (Something about [spare] Change: C**T = F@%E) as it really is not necessary and acts more as a distraction from your powerful words. The proper use of punctuation marks (yes... the bane of every writer) would go a LONG way in improving overall readability and conveying the poet's strong messages to a wider audience.

    Overall, an impressive and strong work. I sincerely hope the poet chooses to spend time editing/revising with a critical eye toward the above points. This is a piece that should be refined to allow a greater audience to appreciate the writing skill and talent this poet has to offer.

    Best of luck in the contest.

    Comment


    • #3
      many thanks for the pointers. glad you like it, glad you find flaws for me to work on. x

      Comment


      • #4
        pipersfancy covers it all and then some! Very strong message, indeed and greatly enjoyed, Ryan

        Comment


        • #5
          thank u very much!

          Comment


          • #6
            Love it! Fuckin awesome.

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