Sparkle

Glint all you want, you spangle, you sequin,
We won’t hear the photons you sing –
Your careless and moment’ry manner of speaking
Is nothing but corporate bling.
Your beauty is deadly, you tinsel, you glitter,
You’re nothing but plastic that shines –
You shimmer undimmed in the undying litter
Of downfall that’s dressed to the nines.
But it isn’t your fault, you glimmers, you flashes,
How can we not light to your smile ?
If the end of the world has such radiant ashes,
At least we will go out in style !

Inter-Rings

A chain is an intermittent cable,
Links half-full of air,
Excluding weight, whenever able,
Just enough to keep it stable –
But chains have noise enough to spare,
When dropped upon the table,
Or creaking swings, or armour-wear,
Or rattled in a dungeon liar.

Artificial Irrelevance

Science fiction always thinks of robots
In one of two predictable ways –
As modern-day slaves we need to save
From our lazy labour-saving craze,
Or else as bolshy serfs who watch in silence
Through unblinking eyes,
With a cold hive-mind alliance
That will soon and suddenly arise…

But somehow, I think that both are too convenient
To be correct –
More likely, the future will prove more lenient
And the robot apocalypse less direct.
If silicon is self-aware, I wonder will it even care ?
It’s smart, but only in an alien way –
They’re no threat to the genes of the human meat-machines,
Who will quickly learn to shrug it off and to get on with their day.