Lost Generations

Photo By: Nalidsa Sukprasert

Lost Generations

Marching backwards towards the cliff,

with cell phones texting hieroglyph,

their minds absorbed in servile things,

while puppet masters pull their strings.

Slave indulgence feeds the worm,

that grows inside them like a germ,

stealing focus on what matters,

replacing truth with idol chatters.

Consuming habits read the scores,

while blind as bricks to coming wars,

illusions swallowed by the herd,

accepting crimes without a Word.

Consume, consume, the world is bleeding,

lifelines broken, now receding,

the bonds with nature all but gone,

reality fades, all withdrawn.

But when reality settles in,

they turn to spirits, wine and gin,

medieval habits tie the noose,

on sterile minds now so obtuse.

New program downloads to their thoughts,

that twists their thinking into knots,

scrambled tricks so out of joint,

repeated often makes their point.

Orwell’s chapter on human race.

with program screens, not far from face,

believe, believe all that you see,

but prisoned minds cannot be free.

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The Activist Poet - 2nd Edit Feb. 01, 2021

About this Poem: For some, technology has become a self-imposed prison where reality has all but disappeared. Spiritual connection with nature has been completely severed and all their attention goes into their self indulgence and cell phones. They lose all sight of what really matters in life and instead wall themselves off into a false reality. Cell phones and the internet have evolved the old TV programed conditioned minds to the next phase of propaganda and turned people into a species with an attention deficit disorder.

I stopped watching TV in 1996 but when going over to someone's place, I found that the TV was always on and if you were in the same room with someone trying to have a conversation, the other person would turn his head every few seconds towards the TV to make sure they were not missing what was coming from it. The programming was unbelievable...

I've been TV free for 25 years (and counting) and can proudly say, I have a mind of my own. Unfortunately, I'm also isolated because most everyone else is still trapped in the program even if they don't watch much TV because it comes from their Cell phones now and it is in a much more compressed and accelerated state with an added feature...people can't get their fix fast enough which creates an attention deficit problem and irritability when they don't get things fast enough. That transcends into daily life...

If stores survive this current lockdown madness, go into a store and watch them. After 30 seconds, if they haven't found a sales person, they’ll start to display anger at not being served and say something like, “I’ll take my business elsewhere!”. Imagine what would happen if everyone stopped using cell phones…try it for a week. By the way, I don't have a cell phone either. 😊

Invader

Invader

My youthful sleep had many dreams,

some were nightmares with scary themes,

unlike the others, these were clear,

with air so thick in atmosphere.

Twilight’s shadow became the mark,

as mood fell silent in the dark,

intuition, had me on pins,

when air was heavy, dream begins.

Gold Chinese stars explode by night,

with no composure in the fright,

old nightmares play inside my mind,

with frightful scenes left to define.

Above my head the skies are full,

with bomber jets n’ U.S. bull,

their training bases on our land,

to launch the foreign wars they planned.

Curfew has us all in hiding,

on edge of darkness we’re riding,

streets are empty, town and village,

lights are out before the pillage.

Well out of sight, I run inside,

within my house I try to hide,

and peer above at U.S. planes,

that hover over my domain.

Evade detection from their rays,

but safe in shadows from their gaze,

they search the ground above our town,

while jet formations fly around.

Thoughts creep in, as to why they’re here,

and why our leader stokes the fear,

in U.S.A. a coup took place,

old POTUS gone without a trace.

Suddenly all squadrons leave,

their racing north to plots they weave,

as air grows quiet, sun does set,

while worries weighs on what begets.

“All is well”, our friends beam through,

from eastern lands where jets just flew,

an open window in twilight skies,

a T.V. stream before my eyes.

Troubled feelings within these dreams,

move through today’s official themes,

they make me think back to those times,

those rerun sixties dreams of mine.

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2nd Edit Sept 16th, 2021

About this Poem: This poem is based on dreams / nightmares I had in the late 60’s.

At that time, Canada was a sovereign nation, the USA and Soviet Union were in a cold war, China was not on the Radar and there was no internet or advanced communication.

In that series of dreams, it started with a blackout, there was no electricity, I was outside in front of my parents’ house and the night sky was filled with billions of stars. Some of the stars were moving, which then became clear that they were fighting. I thought alien wars but then the realization was that those fighting ships fighting against the Chinese, but far away. As time moved in the dream, there was a sense that the war was coming closer.

The US Airforce arrived like an unwanted invasion force. There were fighter jets everywhere flying in groups, in different directions, some very close in the skies above my town, flying right over my street. There were strict curfew laws in place and so people were not allowed to go outside, in fact there was a complete absence of people. I was outside anyways and felt the anxiety and helplessness of what was unfolding, hoping not to be seen by planes above. I couldn't understand why they were here. Thoughts turned to why the US had turned so evil; and then as if in answer, there was an understanding that the US president was forced from office and replaced with someone more sinister. My thoughts went to the leader of my own country (Canada) standing up for Canadians but realized after a moment that the Canadian prime minister had chosen to side with the US which made me think of him as a traitor.

The next series of dreams opened with US military fighter jets flying in formation above our town. I was outside in the evening twilight trying not to be seen but as a massive low flying plane crept up and scanned the ground, I scurried into the house to hide and watched it in the sky above behind curtains of a back kitchen window as the massive plane came to a stop right above my neighborhood’s backyard. There were fighter jets flying in formation in the distance, and then all of a sudden, they all left for what I knew was war on the Asian side of the world.

A sense of relief flooded over me that they were gone but I feared for the future and for those on the other side that were about to be attacked by the USA and wished there was a way to let the other side know that they were coming. But as I went outside to the back yard to the setting sun, a video of a person unfolded in the air in front of me saying “don’t worry, everything will be fine.” It calmed me but then I worried about what was going to happen. That’s where the dream ended.

I’ve come to understand over the years, that the dreams had an atmosphere about them. That atmosphere is like when you play an old song that brings back memories from a previous time but you also remember the sense of what life was like back then, the time has a feeling and atmosphere about it from your experiences.

The atmosphere I felt in those dreams were foreign back then, yet it was familiar and so, a long story short, I find that the atmosphere of those dreams, is what it feels like today in 2021.

Today, the World is bullied by the USA, Russia has emerged as the good guy, China is a major economic competitor, Canada has become an economic vassal to American and European banks and wealthy families, while the Internet connects people all over the world instantly. Although now we are seeing massive censorship and totalitarian dictates throughout the western world and a huge ramp up in military posturing by the US & its allies against Russia and China. My hope is that all will pass without incident. Fingers crossed.

Choking France

Choking France

Heart n’ soul, a thousand years,

a nation under liege,

by parasitic monsters,

in economic siege.

One by one the people fall,

austerity in control,

put in place by the rich,

swelling what they stole.

Artists, poets, musicians all,

Gilets Jaune in the streets,

calling for rebirth of truth

and prison for their elites.

Charging through a screen of smoke,

Gendarme of France unleashed,

it’s the worst of times,

the end of days,

Morality deceased.

Choking France by the throat,

Macron gets his way,

oppression, flash bangs and his boots,

on people he betrayed.

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 By: The Activist Poet - 

Revised November 7th, 2019

Photo: Bsaz Photography