Dystopia Poems

and the good guys lost

and the good guys lost


all of us ‘got feet of clay
we are tainted, corrupted
and who of us will not say
"no, not me, I will be trusted"
we've come a long way, 'never stay too long
we'll have the last word if only to be wrong

evolution has gone to hell
myopic fighting for peace
ev'ry sucker for himself
all hail, this

better juice

stewing in my own juices
in this 
dystopia
 of a nation
masked thugs 
tearing 
brown babies
from their mothers' arms
raking the brown 
off the streets 
disappearing the
inheritors of the kingdom 
idiots who believe 
in an ever-after
there will be 
a time after
masked thugs 
and mass terrorization
evil visits the evil
and payday 
isn't always Friday
I can't wait 
to write a poem

Another Farage barrage

Slewed and screwed by another Farage barrage


No longer a skewed malicious mirage

Stronger imbued with pernicious camouflage

Wronger spewed such vicious sabotage

Doom Monger crude officious collage


Slewed and screwed by another Farage barrage


Rabble rousing by ghoulishly espousing

Nige will oblige and foolishly perform

Leader and feeder of each reader 

Preach on every seedier media platform

Separate the wheat from the chaff

Oi

The Flower and The Machine

He knew the flower to be fair,
but he did not want to wait.

So he turned to the promises of the machine.
It offered quick solutions
-perhaps imperfect-
but they were on-demand.
   Scalable.
   Inexhaustible.
   And they cried for nothing.
   They had no need.
Perhaps there were flaws,
   but they could

Dystopia

Standing at the brink of our new world
I gaze into the majestic landscape.
I see a novel synthetic fraternity
Shining lights of discovery – 
Teetering on the edge
Of a blazing dystopian inferno.

The Glorious Machine

In the past we had to rip them from their mothers
   screaming, crying ... afraid
and remold them in our image
   antiquated traditions to be discarded
   minds and values to be upgraded
   by the Machine

Oh! The Glorious Machine ...

But the smoky, grinding beast of old has evolved itself

I Hate this World

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

2084

It’s winter in the year twenty-eighty-four
Hell has landed on every shore
Devilish eyes aglow as they rose to dominate
People now captive to a totalitarian state

Society is now ruled with an iron fist
You’ve seen those movies; you know the gist
Elders tell tales of an earth so free
Crossing great valleys and sailing the sea

I haven’t seen the sun

Utopia Dystopia

Utopia Dystopia

One man’s Law and order is another man’s oppression.
For an imposed utopia is a true dystopia.

By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison

The Paw-Trod Path

Along the paw-trod path
Narrow and dainty through the gorse
Where yellow flowers
Lie dim like fallen stars in the mist
Comes a silent visitor, hesitant
It licks its lips
A taste like vinegar
Humans of old and long ago
Their lonely essence gone

The heather-stepper flinches
Shy of memorial eyes
The castle ruined on the hill
The old manse below with broken windows

No smoke at the

My Life Is a Dystopia

I am being forced to live
With horrible malformations
On my body
In my body
I am stuck with them for years
For who knows how long

The people want me dead
Simply for existing
They claim it is in the name of the children
But I am a child
Being forced to grow up

And I am not the only one
There are millions of us

Lady Macandroid

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

Earth Odyssey

Dreams of blue skies and immaculate waters
Fields lush and green for miles to be seen
A world befitting our sons and daughters
Yet careless pollution has brought a tearful scene

Blessed with the intellect and ingenuity to thrive
So why the never-ending uphill struggle?
Life is for living; instead, we fight to survive
Seems there's always another bill to juggle

Humanity yearns

Dystopia Dysphoria

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

We Live In An Interesting Time

WE LIVE IN AN INTERESTING TIME

He was Dean of the university’s
College of Creative Malfeasance, 
including the Schools of Business,
Law, Information Technology, Marketing,
Theology and International Relations!

His son was more sinister
He was a minister in the 
Church of Confederate Christianity,
a denomination that is pro-life
but anti-family!

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