Forward to the Stone Age – A Poem

Scientists have moved through

black holes, and discovered

time works

in reverse

on the other side


From the great rebound

spiralling back

space fleets

to small streets

to the stone age


Reaching the mirror earth

they find great herds

and catch the roars

of dinosaurs.

civilisation is history here


From a lonely cave

they retrieve a rare

artefact of slate

carved and ornate

last remnant of this inverted age


They learn the marks

work out the words

this piece of history

a mother’s diary

laments forgetting


“They have lost their skills,”

her diary records,

“I may be the last

to remember the past,

and keep tradition alive.


“Some don’t even believe

when I talk about PC’s

our global data-core

lost in lore

now just a few fossil chips


“Now they write everything

and couldn’t type a word

I despair for them,

that never again

will we have keyboards.


“At least I care that it’s gone,

though I may be the last one.

now our brain must do

what computers used to,

Oh the awfulness progress has done.”

Advertisements

16 thoughts on “Forward to the Stone Age – A Poem

Add yours

    1. I heard a radio play where I guy moaned that kids were forgetting how to write because of telephones. I thought, wow, we love to moan at change and see it as negative, I bet if the world ran backwards cave-men would moan that writing was a terrible invention and we should have stuck with computers. Then the poem happened πŸ™‚

  1. πŸ™‚ I love this one, and every single syllable of this particular stanza: “Reaching the mirror earth/they find great herds/and catch the roars/of dinosaurs.” Well done!

  2. One problem. You spelled civilization wrong. You seem to have a habit of putting s where z ought to be and vice-versa. It’s an English disease, like Mad Cow or Hoof in Mouth (Hoof and Mouth? Foot in Mouth? Can’t remember). There is a cure for that. It’s called being “American.”

      1. Pop quiz, hotshot: How many Americans run away to England to live their lives as ex-pats? Not many. How many Brits run away to America (for God knows why) to live their lives as ex-pats? A lot. Turns out being American sucks only if you are a true American who hates all Americans who feel like Americans can do no wrong and that we are the best at everything. I am one of those Americans. Figure that out, mate.

      2. I am proud to be an American who hates Americans. I may be the only Yank who knows why the rest of the world hates us and doesn’t pretend we are God’s gift to mankind. I claim the 1/4 Brit that I am with pride, and I laud my two youngest children with gifts of splendor for being 3/8 English.

You can tell me anything (yes, even that!)

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

... on being and becoming ...

... a mobius faith blog ...

faceatthewindow

the inside, and outside, of my head

Gabriela LeBarΓ³n

Stories Poetry Art Opinion

Poetry on the run

a poet's search for poetry

nobodysreadingme

Writers write. The rest make excuses.

Ramblings From A Mum

This is my journey, my thoughts, my views, plain and simple and from my heart. Please travel with me and share, hopefully it will be an interesting trip.

%d bloggers like this: