I don’t understand the world as I once did, I feel that reality is far too distressing now, This new world churns everybody up, Even what I’m writing now is null prose, It’s random, reactive, and it’s ugly, There was a time when I embraced the future, When did that turn into fear, and isolation, Now, I can’t bear people, when did I become incompatible, I feel like I’m made of old PC parts, I’m old tech, I feel obsolete, yet I still function fine, But I no longer meet the minimum requirements, Surely someone out there still appreciates effort, I feel unsupported by those who once celebrated me, This is of course 100% my ego, however it still hurts, So, how do I let the old me go, how can I upgrade graciously. Will any part of me still exist after the upgrade, More importantly, why do I now identify as a component, Rather than a human being.
And just like that, I sink back into the black, It envelops me, Devoured by dark comfort, I no longer resist the pull, There’s no point in struggling, It numbs all senses, It keeps open eyes closed, It mutes all sound, It guides me down, Then holds me there, Until I can no longer breathe, And just like that, It releases its chokehold.
It’s a cool quiet Saturday morning, a time to think about life, Still drowsy from an evening of drinks and a restless sleep, I sit and contemplate the second piece of my puzzle, my father, The things he has taught me, and how he helped shape me, Now elderly and unwell, he’s constantly in my thoughts, He taught me to be a good man, and to work hard for my family, To be honest, loyal, trustworthy and kind, although some may scoff, He taught me to help others, whenever they may need it, To do what I say, and be where I say I’m going to be, Actions, not words, are the core foundation of being a man, He taught me to protect and love my children against all odds, To be tough, yet playful with them in equal amounts, To pay my bills, pay my own way, and to not take advantage of others, He gave me the opportunity and tools to succeed in life, He ensured technology was available for me to learn and live easier, He did his best to get me here, while carrying his inner pain silently, His memories are leaving him now, and he seems fragile, Not the once strong soldier, mechanic, truck driver, builder he was, A life should be remembered, not stolen from your mind by sickness, Sickness took his wife, took his hair, but never his dignity or humour, He has seen and done so many things, and helped so many people, And he rarely asked for help along the way, but time is a cruel mistress, And she creates wraiths from mountains.
Dusk falls on a tired dusty rural landscape, The long shadows of the late afternoon have faded to grey, In the distance, bright city lights flicker to life, lighting up the sky, The distant volume of Central City’s chaos rises to a murmur, There is a comfort to be being isolated, distant from humanity, Away from the energy, constant sound, and movement of the city, Tech still fills this rural space, but it is subtle, used where needed, Out here it is functionality over convenience, tech for survival only, No unnecessary body mods, or implants, some city escapees do have them, But out here they are few and far between, chop-shops are a city thing, Grove 18, or G18, is some distance from the hot spot of Central City (G0), Since the war, most people are cautious of machines, however, Salvaged tech has been repurposed, constructive rather than destructive, Varieties of hover vehicles have replaced the wheels and tires of old, Important, considering the surviving roads are overgrown and damaged, Raider crews on hov bikes can be a threat to farming communities, But the Syndicates keep them in check, for a price, a cut of your proceeds, But, don’t pay your Syndicate, your property burns, Or worse, you and your family are deleted, Aside the turmoil, nature still exists, savage and beautifully untameable, Forests reclaim dead townships, creating new habitats and secrets, The grey new world is brutal and unfair, but that is the way of all things now.
Beyond my machine world the Infinite Black, exists 'A Grey New World', a dystopian future set following the war with the machine hellworld as outlined in my art series, and book I co-created with Jeff Oliver.
I have been (very) slowly fleshing out all aspects of this new post apocalyptic world for a while now, and I will continue to release parts of it here. The final product will consist of poetry, art and short stories.
As twilight fades, a new day begins, This vast metropolis never sleeps, however, A voice awakens inside a pod, activating the lighting, A gentle white light illuminates the chamber, The sleeper stretches, then requests coffee, A glass emerges from a countertop flap and fills, They rub their eyes as the outer window shutter raises, And a glistening cityscape is revealed as they drink, Breakfast consists of synthetic fruits and oatmeal, Morning ablutions are brief and efficient, Once clothed, they head out into bright morning sun, Voice activation secures the apartment pod as they exit, And they step out into the shadows of Megacity skyscrapers.
Welcome to the future, where clocks now strike thirteen, Individualism is no longer celebrated, That human condition has been politically corrected, One central government keeps humanity in stasis, One totalitarian leader wields blind control, Sprawling interconnected megacities rise, Tech controls the nihilistic mindset of a dead generation, People disappear by night without warning, Artists, journalists, writers, free thinkers, Lives are deleted as the world embraces sterility, Psychological pharmaceuticals are outlawed, Desperation fills crowded dystopian city streets, Populations sleep in instability, controlled by fear, Supervised, manipulated, punished, This is not the promised bright new world, This is despotism, This is now.
I am a heated emotional bundle, full of liquid chemical energy, Every muscle seems tightened and ready to burst, All body sinew feels electrified, numb and activated, My skin feels armoured and ready to fight, So where should this energy be redirected, There is no enemy, There is no pressure, Except from the one writing, This energy always goes to same place, It goes to bed.
I feel like I have been jettisoned, Newly arriving on an alien landscape, Here, beings exist that are not of my make, They behave in a confusing manner, Their language is untranslatable, Their beliefs, the opposite of my own, It is as though each being is a planet, All squeezed into one tiny galaxy, With no room for expansion, No space for personal expression, No room for creativity, There is no place for your opinion here, There is no silence, it is deafeningly loud, Life is like closing my eyes while watching a movie, And it rolls on regardless, This, is now.
Each pay flows quicker than liquid mercury, Removed from accounts with electronic surgery, Payments for toil that instantly disappear, And it’s becoming worse everywhere year by year, The world is more broken than ever before, It’s like we are living through Orwell’s 1984, How can we possibly hope to retire? The future seems dark and the finances dire, When the basics are getting so hard to acquire, We are just banknotes burning on life’s funeral pyre.
Dan Verkys 