Best Dystopia Poems
Through the mire, lie rows of houses,
in fact there all around,
This is suburbia the sprawl,
Spreading in all directions,
Concrete and steel surge upwards,
Indigenous trees bulldozed down,
Roads dark alleyways fester,
Behold this was once my town.
Weaving through leaky tunnels,
Stench permeates foul air,
Organization of the multitude,
Rats in a Rubik’s cube maze,
Where else can we go,
peasants of urban growth,
Incognito behind our masks,
Eyes burning, smog chokes,
A caveman of bricks and mortar,
Blind man who doesn’t need light,
Awoken from my life of slumber,
Searching for the high ground,
Find a weird monstrosity,
Towering above my head,
A ski slope, shopping mall,
I only seek, milk and bread,
Never seen the future coming,
Perhaps looked, the other way,
I helped create this Frankenstein,
To call it civilized would be a mistake,
Once reaped what was sewn,
Now concrete over everything we see,
Where in hell, has the sky gone,
Dystopia now, Can this really be?
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (43)
Sponsored by Brian Strand 18/02/2021
Here a mansion, there a metal cube,
Now a street, and now a numbered route,
Here a faith and there an attitude,
Now pajama bottoms, now a suit –
So many colors blended into white!
I watch the people pass like frantic ants
All vaguely trusting that they share a hill,
As if in some symbolic foreign dance,
Seeing no end, they yet possessed the skill.
Details un-wed by purpose flood my sight.
What shall I make of this strange unity,
Both cause and balm of modern man’s frail soul,
That drowns his need of meaning in a sea
Of diverse efforts toward an absent goal?
another day gone by
another thirty dead
until we rue the day
"what's exactly wrong with your head?"
please just psychoanalyze
till someone else is gone again
another one in purgatory
another scream to murmur
another fifty murdered
until we can somehow figure
what kind of bliss comes from this
our lives will be spent in belligerence
to the point we're making wagers in
any other lie in this reach for utopia
when do the screams stop
when do we stop dreaming?
i walk right into reality
sit in a seat to the corner
pull up a magazine
read somewhere between the lines
just another thirty dead
what's so wrong with us
what's so wrong with life
why would you want to take it?
why would you ever want to give the cynics any more reasons?
just another day in dystopia
i guess
Mogadishu ...
Black Hawk helicopter down
Caracas ...
Riots burning everything to the ground
New Orleans ...
Katrina tears has gotten many more drowned
Manila ...
Government death squads are roaming around
Global Dystopia
Earth frowns
Parents and children weeping,
sad mourning sounds
Everyday the sun comes up,
hope goes down
Bi’lin ...
Smouldering settlement protests sparks up
Baghdad ...
A covered face blew up the church bus
Philadelphia ...
Government bombing citizens they don’t trust
Hiroshima ...
Radiation wine still overflowing from the cup
Global Dystopia
Ain’t we had enough
Can’t take no more mushroom clouds
raining on Earth’s thin crust
Everyday the sun goes down,
dark hopelessness rises up
Tshikapa ...
Crystal clear diamonds covered in jungle blood
Sarajevo ...
War crime bodies dumped in mass graves covered by mud
Tel Aviv ...
Sleeping residents killed by a black market American SCUD
Chicago ...
Lead poisoned urban poor houses built by HUD
Global Dystopia
Earth cries
Parents and children missing,
news covered up by politician lies
The day the sun doesn’t standstill,
all hope then dies
The age-old dream is a nightmare,
that has haunted us far too long,
still it lures in so many souls
with the sweetness of its song.
But beyond the simple melody
a darkness quickly appears,
those who preach of utopia
are the ones we should most fear.
It all starts out pleasant enough,
they want to build the perfect world,
with peace, love, and prosperity,
for every single boy and girl.
But on what defines perfection,
the can never truly agree,
tell them it’s abstract idea,
and they scream out ‘heresy!’
Not that this will stop the push,
they’re convinced that they’re right,
and any who would oppose them,
are an evil and a blight.
First it’s campaigns to convince
that they hold the greatest truth,
then to the schools for targeting
the dumb, impressionable youth.
They think that this will do the job,
but too many reject and dismiss,
then comes all the social pressure,
go along or you’re not ‘with it.’
And when even that doesn’t prevail,
they always turn to government,
use law to force you to agree,
or face a long imprisonment.
This becomes the tipping point,
since government is always force,
yet convinced they’ll bring perfection,
they’ll do what was once abhorred.
Some penalties put you in camps,
doomed to a miserable fate,
no longer do you just ‘disagree,’
you’re now enemy of the state.
It does not take much to see this,
such an endless, brutal trend,
Hitler’s ‘perfect’ Aryan Reich
sent ten million to their end.
And all those workers ‘paradises,’
their purges and class enemies,
Sent a hundred million folk to death,
to build their ‘ideal’ societies.
Even down on the smaller scale,
the same result you will find,
Jamestown, Heaven’s Gate, and Waco;
where people were burned alive.
How many would still be with us,
how many fewer would be dead,
if we could take utopia
and drive it clear out of our heads?
In fact the very word itself,
if you look back on history,
literally translates as ‘no place,’
in the original Greek.
As in no place can ever exist
where mankind lives perfect,
Better is the best we can do
without leaving people wrecked.
Best we keep shouting this truth out
before we all tumble and fall,
We must fear, fear utopia,
or else it will kill us all.
I hate this world I'm living in
I hate it to the core
I hate this world I'm living in
Can't take it anymore
The hate that sparks a genocide
Does anybody care?
The theft, the lies, the cover up
Is there much more to bear?
I hate this world I'm living in
A place where children die
Abused, neglected, underfed
The world stands idly by
I hate this world I'm living in
The constant threat of war
I hate this world I'm living in
Where is that exist door?
I hate the trafficking of souls
Who are in desperate need
I hate the leaders who are blind
By power and by greed
I hate this world I'm living in
Where animals are killed
For sport or just for appetite
My cup of wrath is filled
I hate this world I'm living in
Where sex is monitized
I hate this world I'm living in
Deceit's been digitized
And yes there are some happy times
Where sun shines through the rain
These fleeting moments are so few
The residue is pain
I hate this world I'm living in
And though I rant and rave
It will not change a single thing
I have no strength to save
And so I struggle through each day
See nightmares every night
Please make for me a world in which
The darkness turns to light
Eileen Manassian
“What is this strange place we find ourselves in
Trapped in the open, we are free within.”
Perhaps a more interesting question we should ask...
If freedom can be won, how do we consummate the task?
Can it be found in a world that seems determined to drown?
Is this peculiar place we reside the reason why we frown?
And what of the blank faces that stare with blinded eyes?
Are they merely masked to hide their fear in disguise?
Questions without answers leave us emotionally trapped.
Gob smacked of our free will and impotent to adapt
to the truth that is incapable of setting any of us free
to live in an orderly place, without the need for a referee.
Oh, to live without turmoil and riots, or wars for any cause,
where neighbors are friendly. Give that thought a pause.
Each crisis is becoming more like a game of jackstraws,
only adding to the tension and the unsheathing of claws.
What an oppressive dystopia we now find ourselves in,
where everyone holds a grenade, threatening to pull the pin!
It's often been said that the cost of freedom is a high price,
but no one can escape if we're held in the jaws of a vise.
September 19, 2022
Your Second Chance 2Nd Submission: Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet
N/A'd in April 2022
Contest "The Matrix" sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Half flesh, half steel, sinews and twined wire,
Begotten in the heat of half-love, tempered
By hatred and the axe, fathered by one
Who killed her mother, the male chauvinist boar
Whose eye-teeth, razor-sharp, saw through the spine,
Joy-sword in sheath. Wrought iron, blood vessels,
Bone and cable, one part conceived, the other forged
On the hard anvil where gusts of blood are seed
Of all the axeman most does fear – cast iron woman
With stanchions for a trunk, iron breastplate,
A malleable black heart, a metallic chastity belt
No man may boast of stealing and still live,
Who beats men at their own battle games,
A dab hand with the axe herself, as salty tears
And globules of mercury exude from grey glands
The cypress trees at water’s edge hedge an entrance.
We circle senseless, aimless, wheezing from the stench.
We are unprepared for this netherworld mischance,
this lifeless pool without birds where we entrench.
Drawn into the grotto leading to the abode of the dead,
we are alarmed to find the design is quite familiar.
Our handwriting and signatures cannot be misread.
All around our cacotopian creation seems so peculiar.
Dank alleys crowded; COVID corpses decompose.
Back when, we passively handed the reign of power
to a petulant fiendish bully we might not now depose.
His smirking cult spews contempt like a shower.
Meanwhile conspiracy capers cavort clucking tongues,
and we view our nihility specters, seeking our escape.
But this vortex germ befouls the air, attacking our lungs.
Our vertigo fatigue means our breakout can’t take shape.
This is long lost Avernus, the black hole of our making.
Thoughtless, this virus only preys on any for the taking.
In the end, it was the numbers that did us in.?
They lined us up into military rows and assigned us all numbers?
One after one after one after one after one….?
How many, nobody knows.?
You see, it’s a numbers game, it’s all the same
You’re not to blame, you’re not your name, you’re your numbers.?
Let me explain how it’s done, and how this game can never be won.
See, there are good numbers and bad numbers?
High numbers and sad numbers.?
Sometimes high numbers are good and low numbers are bad.?
And sometimes low numbers are good and high numbers are sad.?
It all depends on who is doing the counting.?
Not the numbers, they’re just numbers after all; ?
They can count on each other just not you or me
Because we are never free?
Of Big Numbers and small numbers,?
Negative numbers and imaginary numbers,?
You see, it’s a numbers game, it’s all the same, you’re not to blame,?
You’re just not your name, you’re your numbers.?
Let me explain how it’s done and how this game can never be won.
Prisoner number…Credit Score number…GPA number…SAT Number…Zip code number…Blood pressure number…Heart rate number…DOB & TOD numbers…House number…Phone number…Electricity number…Room number…Water number…Dog tags number…SocialSecurity number…Bank account number…Table number……Flight number…Apartment number…License number…Vehicle registration number…Alcohol level number…Height, weight and age get numbers
I hear you scream:?“I’m not a number, I’m a human being!!
”?Sure you are, now take a number, ?
It’s for your own protection, there’s safety in numbers.
Numbers can answer all of your questions:?
How far, how long, how deep, how high, how many,
?How often? Just not ‘how come’??
Anyone can count, but you can’t count on anyone.?
See, it’s a numbers game that can’t be won?
It’s a numbers game; it’s just how it’s done.
?It’s all the same, you’re not to blame…you’re not insane!
You’re just not your name, you’re your numbers.?
Now count to ten and start all over again.
Unity is illusionary,
A dystopia of thoughts and dreams
What is life but a fleeting thing in the grand scheme of things?
Freedom so precious and heavily bought
cannot compare to one loving thought.
Without further ado
i offer my literary missives anew
fur ye to ponder and brew
from meister mwm of his motley crue,
whom dwells in a nada very complex edifice
which numb burr oof offspring equals deux
whereby this spouse i.e me kind of resembles an emu
whence money a edified reader considers
dis goy wit sum brain cells 2 few
chomped on by an carnivorous elder gnu
and said two female progeny sired
from one ova plus super seminal glue
swimming swiftly via viscous hue
genetic heritage comprised predominantly Jew
with one late uncle lou
who himself a milch cow and frequently did moo
which found me to rue
what comprises reality to be true
that all humans originated from the primate zoo.
*****Sapiens Sale hums lot
witnessed vicious thermal winds that blew
thick mass of cremated ashes
across rubble strewn,
and severely cratered landscape!
The devil made mince meat
as like one huge lumbering ogre
and grim reaper
rolled up into one
not so jolly green giant did slay
good will to all men,
and spat out pox with an emphatic nay
triumphing over godly salvation
using eponymous accursed pitchfork
made merry and rolled in the hay
simultaneously sneering out in delight
at wanton death and decay
whereby civilization forever mutilated
perforated said spindled
and inappropriately sensually fondled
world wide web structure
where once proud arm strong spikes radiated
now sundered in total chaotic disarray!
Made In America
Is a fable
By foreign companies
For
Gullible patrons
Who love
To call themselves
Patriots
Today a key
To unlock the apartment
Tomorrow
It will be
Your debit card
And
A credit score
Will float over your head
Kids go to school
Not in the latest fashion
Nor
Do they wear uniforms
No
School kids
Today they wear
Bullet-proof vests
No healthcare for all
But war!
War for all ages!
Step up!
One and all!
Except for the rich!
Only the poor
Get to die!
On television
That's not a NASCAR race!
It's congress
But look
Look at their sponsors
Big pharma!
And oil companies!
Writing your laws!
Dystopia dysphoria
It never
Seemed real
Until
We made it real!
And Idiocracy
is a documentary
Of America's downfall!
The long hard journey through
past to progress
These day's has far few many stops to make along it's tried and tested daily route to commute
As cutting costs has so many
uneconomic station laid bare
in it's path
Deemed unsustainable via
accounting computer program
ledgers with countless bites
of memory to spare
Once filled with dumpster full
of coal and shoals of eadible
fish pulse and grain
To steel the masses for another
working day to breathe new life
into industry
To service the never ending
escalating intresest on banking
loans that prop-up wall street share
prices
In order to finance and build a new
Mall , Factory , Hotel or Flats
On the grave of our past long
before they have even been
pronounced dead
It happened to the cowboys
It happened to the miners
It happened to the fishermen
It happened to the farmer's
What paradise for a car park
And job security for my family
And an honest day's work for pay
And human value self worth
And yet and though it is with our
blistered hand toil sweat and
tears it takes to build your tower's
It will be enough or shall it enable
us to afford us to live reside inside
your castles wall's
As for us we are merely entrusted
and expected to garner you with
security
Guard your carparks
Guard your gate's
Guard your monetary wealth
Good enough to raise your children
Place them firmly in our custody
Pick them up from Ivy Schools
When one is busy out shopping
taking lunch , partying or upwardly
socializing
And all of this for the measly price
of knowing one's place and one
mistake could cost you and your
family
It's one and only breadwinner
who put and set aside his pride
to hide it deep inside a box
That signals the future is the station
boarded up you just past
Oh, beautiful for racist lies,
And Amber Heard on trial,
For TikTok fueled insanity
While twerking Gangnam style.
Ambivalent dichotomies
Now shred my faith in thee.
And guns are good,
Not brotherhood.
It’s plain for all to see.
We are free to achieve
Our American dream
In the land of the craven,
The home of the AR-15.