Posts Tagged ‘Science fiction’

Humanity has always looked out to the stars,
An obsidian sea of potential,
A blanket of alien marvels,
We gaze up ignoring the carcass we sit upon,
As the Earth degrades bit by bit,
Her veins irradiated and gardens desecrated,
The mother dies in an indolent rasping grind,
Choking on forms of progress and ingenuity,

The time to venture forth shall come one day,
For our childrens children to be pioneers,
To escape this island we’ve ruined,
She cannot endure infinitely,
But what knowledge shall they carry on?
Will they utilise the lessons modernity has shown them?
Will they love the life of those new worlds?
Or exploit them to husks like our home?

I do wonder,
I wonder if they will avoid our antiquated methods,
Live alongside nature rather than bleed it,
Conserve the lives of flora and fauna alike,
Only take what they truly need,
Not revert to earthly consumption,
Will they use us as a cautionary blueprint?
Will they be better than us?

They’ll forge a final ark to pierce the clouds,
The launch will indeed be a swansong,
Hopefully for our old ways,
But perhaps for your hopes,
As their vessel surges heavensward,
When those rockets bellow like sanguine drakes,
To lord knows where,
Do they go as explorers or destroyers?

We owe much to steam,
That formless product of water,
Heated to utility myriad,
Not so much a force of nature,
But a force of progress,
A stepping stone of civilisation,
From a humble source,
To a giant of human industry,
Mayhaps we’re steampunks after all,

To power our traversals,
Rail and propeller and turbine,
To give energy to generators,
Bringing your tools to life,
Even to prepare our herbal beverages,
Calming or invigorating,
Steam has ever been a loyal ally,
We wouldn’t be where we are,
Without the power of steam.

I read of a callous man,
Who sought to be more than a man,
He began welding and fixing all sorts of changes,
Supercomputer intellect and mechanised physicality,
Steel replacing sinew,

Changes had to made,
These bloody organs had to go,
Their expiry was too impending,
First his heart torn out,
Feelings and all,

Humanity twisting into electricity,
His family values and dynasty melted down,
To become ore for his new frame,
Friendships thrown in the furnace,
His love for life became science fiction,

He slept in an old junkyard in the city,
He dreamed in binary,
Putting two and two together and getting seven,
Conclusions made in angst,
Errors in code,

True he is now more than a man,
Now he’s just man-made,
Now he is just metal,
Now he’s just a ghost in the machine,
Lost to data.

Upon a lonely cliff,
At the limits of our aged city,
There lies a slaughterhouse-cum-laboratory,
Haunted by a man who cured sanity,
A professor of touched genius,
An unhinged heretic of science,
An ireful storm engulfs the old building,
As if nature itself fulminates at the reality of the doctors toil,
An experiment is in progress,
A rital of scientific blasphemy,
His zeal is absolute,

This haven of heinous vision,
A tinkerers paradise,
Lightbulbs and tesla coils,
Tools of all ghastly shades,
Slabs that may or may not have laid cadavers,
Unfinished projects,
Some inanimate and others scream for attention,
But he is focused upon todays business now,
A scheme the bad doctor has wrought for decades,
A plot the entire world shall witness,
The science of revenge,

An ember of a bunsen there,
And a dash of periodic table salts here,
Wide-eyed he gazes at the vials,
The sickly serums within pulse energetically,
Signalling their readiness,
These shall be his magnum opus,
The vapours from these hell-mouthed vials,
They shall cleanse this city that demonised him so cruelly,
The city shall choke,
No longer able to disparage his mind,
Next the rest of the world.

I seem to have become lost,
In some kind of alien junkyard,
A menagerie of past industries,
Oxidation permeates this place,
Many dreams died here,

I find a pocketwatch,
It tells no time,
Every digit is thirteen,

I come across an automobile engine,
But it no longer combusts,
It only breathes vacuous rot and decay,

I find a thermometer,
But it remains cold,
The mercury has fled,

I pick up a toy soldier,
No longer among the honour guard,
His legs were eaten by a foe of rust,

I spy an old mirror,
It displays no human form,
The cracks generate glass monsters,

I may be very lost,
But i’m quite alright,
I’ll be fine,
My dreams are dead,
I too shall rust away.

There shall be a day,
When the sun perishes,
Even gods can die after all,
Apollo and Ra and Amaterasu,
All things come to an end,

Earth shall be awash,
With cleansing fire,
A supernova song,
A death rattle of a star,
A galactic graveyard chime,

Everything and everyone you know,
Shall be burned away,
Ash is the only future,
Hiroshima shadows,
No escape,

There is no malice in this apocalypse,
It’s just a funeral pyre,
An indifferent obliteration,
A simple natural metamorphosis,
Of light to dark.

I walk this black and gold city,
Streets lined with circuits and voltage,
Chapels and shrines to chrome,
Midas kingdoms,
I’m a cyberpunk,
A loathsome hacker,

The disquiet is choking,
It entwines with the smokestacks,
Faces become metal plates,
Emotions reduced to lucrative algorithms,
Human no more,
Flesh has become a sin,

Corporate gods,
Mechanical preaching,
The world underwent body modification,
Its soul sold to the highest bidder,
All of its life has become mineral,
All black and gold,

I’m a ghost in the machine,
A former spirit of rebellion,
My heart was coldly dead,
Even before this metallic clone,
A facsimile of a pulse,
A life,

The augmented future is bleak.

In a space system far off,
Centuries ahead of Sol,
Blood money is the ultimate income,
Wars are raged daily,
By mechwarriors,
Warlords of steel and uranium,
In their knightly engines,
Man made gods of war,
Piloted by saints and killers alike,
Statures of raw scale,
Towering over the enemy,

Metallic bodies collide,
Showering the land with ore and limbs,
Component guts are beaten and torn,
Lazers sear,
Armour plates and artillery,
Autocannons shatter,
Gore and gears,
Missiles swarm,
Carnage and circuit-boards,
The ground groans under the havoc,
The warlords squabble as the planet cracks,

Within this stout bunker,
With the other bystanders,
The ground quakes,
As do I,
I hear the iron feet coming.

While you dream softly,
They watch over your home,
Across the stars,

Gods of combat,
Gods of bullet and blade,
Frames of war,

The Tenno,
A name feared by evil,
Sent forth by a cosmic mother,

Knights of the system,
Stalwart against imperial tyranny,
And ancient horrors,

Her will be done.

Hello inmates!

And here’s the second random idea that I’ve had recently. I’m not sure what I think of these ideas right now, but who knows, I may flesh them out.

“The three legendary swords, once thought to be the saviors of the world, have been revealed to be the greatest threats to all life on this planet.

One, Cataclysm, wants to wreath the world in flame and cleave it in twain with the power of the elements.
One, Enigma, wishes to reduce the world to a crystalline void, devoid of life, where only madness survives.
One, Factory, seeks to choke all life with myriad poisons and diseases, darkening the skies with imperceptible death.

The unwitting (and indeed unwilling) wielders of these blades are going to destroy each other, our world and everything we hold dear in a grand conflict!

We cannot let them. We must stop them!”

That’s it for my second idea. Let me know what you think of both of these random ideas. I know they’re pretty bare-bones, but there you go!

Have a very crazy day inmates!