Category: podcast

Ep 47 of My Podcast – A 6 Poem Extravaganza + Narrations

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Features: Fly The Nest/Finally Finalised/Remembering The Bar/Absolutely Positively Contrarian St/The Nouveauricians/Dead Men Don’t lie

Podcast Intro

Greetings & welcome to a Poem Extravaganza! Yes We have 6 Poems!!!! Yes it has been a very productive time of late on the poem front. I could talk about the world of late – Namely how ridiculous & duplicitous it mostly is – but instead I will simply do a quick chat about each Poem at the end of each poem. Note: Yes Things are ok in New Zealand – we have not yet been chipped yet I repeat We have not been chipped yet!

POEMS

“Fly The Nest” (A Poem)

Lose a PAYCHECK
& The ‘Sunday Dreads’
Gain A Life!
Then Sleep In your Shed

Tell Your Boss to “Get F*cked”
Then Breakdance in the Lift
You’ll Sail Into The Sunset
If First You Catch The Drift

Of Course, You’ll Second Guess
This Beating Of Your Chest
But Could This Dream Be Real?

Naration:

Ok Poem 1 “Fly The Nest” A simple short Poem about quitting your soulless chicken barn raised Corporate Job! Oddly I don’t talk of what you’ll do after you quit – now that’s a massive oversight – let me finish the Poem here – it is in instructional Form:

Now To Leave The Building

Then Start Flapping Wings As A Dove Would

Wait 7 Seconds as it will take a while to Liftoff

Drift Off Into The Sunset

Hang Out With The Other Freed Slave Doves

Make Coo Coo Noises That Translate as Follows:

“No Way You Bird Brain!

My Ex Office-Life In The Cubicle Chicken Coop World Was Way Worse Than Yours”

You now decide to dive bomb your old boss crap on his bald head & steal his sandwiches.

You never liked that old ‘Love Cliche’ about Doves being Loving anyway.

“Finally Finalised” (A Poem)

Brazen False Authority

Rides Deception’s Wings

Rules our Modern Times

& Plans Your Demise

Its Mouths Multiplied

Eyes Everywhere

Ears Engaged

It Counts Down

The Predetermined Date

The Final Flaunted Fling

Where You Will Demand

The Sale Of Your Soul

Is Finally Finalised

Narration:

Poem 2 “Finally Finalised” This is a Poem about how too many of us have been brainwashed into demanding our own servitude & lack of personal freedom – my theory on these idiots were/are the noveau riche people who had a great time on laptops and in leafy suburbs during the pandemic – while everyone else suffered. This effect makes me think how selfish human nature is, and how breaking free of that should be everyone’s mission.

“Remembering The Old Working-Class Bar” (A Poem)

I was 22 years Old

And behind the Bar.

A working-class bar where the old coots give you shit.

The more they drink the more confidant they get.

The jokes were always bad.

The couple owners were old close to retirement,

and the tough as boots old lady had an eagle eye at all times.

My first week she told me to the dairy go next door for a “long weight”,

I fell for it like a total boob.

The old man was a classic old time slow grafter,

who occasionally when drunk propositioned and squeezed the female bar staff.

He did it to the lady that ended up lifting his cash from him.

I guess that’s why she allowed it.

There was the devil eyed nasty alcoholic teacher lady,

Who took a disliking to me,

I assume it was because at the time I looked far too much ”young anglo male’,

And she probably deep down wanted to be one too.

Or she was probably just a garden variety mad as hell teacher who hated herself.

There was my manager was 36 and partied every night,

I couldn’t keep up with him, I tried for a week.

There was the old Naval Hero who was the cook,

A sneaky old coot that tried to push me around.

if 3 people ordered a meal at the same time he panicked,

much like a MGM cartoon character about to be blown up.

The joint was laden with smoke from cigarette smokers,

That second hand smoke annoyed the hell outa me.

There were the gamblers at the pokie machines,

They sadly played pushing the button time after time,

desperately hoping for “free spins”.

If I only had a pint of beer for every time a Jackpot winner said:

“Thank god I can pay the electric bill now”,

I’d never pay for a beer again.

There was the dopey musclehead who had a too decent Japanese wife,

He was running around behind her back with some drunkard whore.

One day a tough guy came in and threatened us behind the bar,

the musclehead cowered despite his muscles,

He was still the weak bullied kid in his mind.

There was the punter with ginger beard double denim & cowboy hat a wannabe “outlaw”,

he gave me a lot of shit, then one day I gave him two barrels back,

Which drew hoops and claps from the gallery.

The Pub’s suburb was the same one my Paternal Grandad, (Father as a kid) & Great Grandfather had lived in,

some 35 years later.

The Grandfather was a Drunk – and here I was serving his type.

I didn’t think much of that but the older I got the spookier I thought of it.

When the Rugby was on it was packed out,

Any ‘hospo’ worker knows how hard a job it is when a bar’s packed out.

No one gives Hospo workers credit – how bizarre!

They allow people to blow off steam, take a tone of crap & feed people,

That’s an important job if you ask me.

One day the owners sold out & retired.

The option was given to stay on with the new owners,

no one wanted to do it, including me.

It must have been an alright time.

That reminds me, I had a fling with a customer the red head student teacher once,

She wasn’t a supermodel, but I was male & 23,

23 yr old males don’t say know to a “free meal”.

Why are Teachers so horny? Is it the stress of their jobs?

It was twenty years ago now, and I still remember those years well.

I went back to the Bar a few months ago,

A few changes but roughly the same.

I saw a few wooden seats that were the exact same seats.

I ordered a coke so as not to seem odd.

It would have been nice to see an old face – alas there was none.

I wondered how many of those lovable old coots had passed.

RIP to all those old coots of that Chatty Bar in New Brighton Christchurch, NZ.

I still remember ya’s.

Narration

Poem 3 “Remembering The Working Class Bar” When I was 22 I worked in a Bar in Christchurch NZ – this is an Ode to that experience.

“Absolutely Positively Contrarian Street” (A Poem)

Posted in UNCATEGORIZEDTagged LIES, LIFE, POEMS, SOCIAL COMMENTARY, TRUTHEDIT

If You Are Born Into Madness – Madness Is Normal & Unseen.

You Can Be Born Into a Mad Family,

Or a Mad Town,

Or a Mad Nation,

Or a Mad Planet,

Or All Of The Above.

But You Can See Madness – If You Work Hard,

& Strive To Be a Contrarian – An Independant Thinker.

It Is Worthwhile,

& Despite The False Adage “Ignorance Is Bliss”,

Truth Is Nirvana.

They’ll Hate You For Wanting It.

They’ll Hate You For Seeing It.

They’ll Hate You For Teaching It.

Wear That Badge Of Honor,

That The Madman Pinned On Your Chest.

For When A Madman Calls You A Madman

You Must Not Be Mad.

As Two Negatives Multiplied,

Always Make A Positive.

Live In A Universe Of Positively Truthful Nirvana,

Where The Madmen Are Slowly Disappearing From View.

Narration : Poem 4. “Absolutely Positively Contrarian Street” A Simple Poem which espouses to benefit of not following the crowd. Yes ! Be a contrarian. But then now that I think of it – If everyone is a contrarian doesn’t that also make them a conformists? This effect happens a lot doesn’t it? That’s signals the end of an alternative movement – when it becomes mainstream & full of ‘pile ons’. This happened in the Hippie Movement & the Grunge Era & we see it now with Woke-ism

“The Nouveauricians” (A Poem)

If You Are A 21st Century

Nouveau Riche Citizen

You Duplicate

The Worst Aspect

Of The Roman Empire:

False Elitism.

Which Spurned

Class Based Society

Casual Social Rejection

Brutish Behaviour

Vagrant Immorality

Rampant Materialism

Child Abuse

So Don’t Be

A ‘Nouveaurician’

Narration:

Poem 5 “The Nouveauricians” A Simple poke in the eye of the Nouveau Riche – The best thing about this Poem is the new term “The Noveauricians” I will use it as much as possible from here on in.

“Dead Men Don’t Lie” (A Poem)

by Martin Anton Smith

There Were Three Billion Views
Of Something In The News
I Can’t Remember What It Was
But It certainly Wasn’t Truth
Yes, “Social Media’s a Curse”
Said The Limp Man In The Hearse
& The Flowers Drooped As He Sped By
But Oh My Word!
A Dead Man Doesn’t Lie

Narration

Poem 6 “Dead Men Don’t Lie” Another Simple throwaway poem that talks of the evils of Social Media. At heart I feel we should as Lars Ulrich’s Dad might say be better off to “Delete That”.

Podcast Transcript: “Zen & the Art of Not Making Nukes”/”Claptrap The Monkey”/”Modern Woman”/ “Soldier Shares in WW3” Plus extended Intro

Posted in 2022-Russia-Ukraine-War, dystopia, EU, Nato, orwell, philosophy, Physics, podcast, Poems, politics, Putin, sci-fi, social commentary, the west, war, ZelenskyyTagged , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read 3 New Poems: Zen & the Art of Not Making Nukes/Claptrap The Monkey/Modern Woman. When writing the intro for this podcast, I cannot but feel about the world in the same way as LENIN did when he said “Decades can pass without anything much happening, then suddenly many decades can pass in days”. For does not this quote sum up the situation the world finds itself in today?

The 2022 Ukraine-Russian war has been brewing for, you could certainly argue, since the fall of the Berlin wall 1990. Shortly after this huge event the US-led Nato Alliance begun an ever expansion towards Russia’s border. Of course, I should add the obvious fact that Putin did not like this fact, and had spent decades warning of his displeasure, as evidenced best by his 2007 speech. Of course, the Eu/Nato/US story is it happened overnight as isolated insanity in the mind of “USSR Empire Regaining” Putin. As with two playground adversary children who are called to the principal’s office for their over exuberance – the truth will naturally lie somewhere between these partisan and propagandised extremes. But sadly, no one bar a few commentators seems to be admitting this sober fact, and I fear this view will be soon silence completely as guilty of the crime of “being an apologist”. In War time it seems you aren’t allowed to be rational.

Fast forward to 2004 14 years after the Nato expansion and we saw a messy political coup whereby in a nutshell we saw a political rupture where Ukraine split from a view to Russia towards that of US Nato @ the Eu. However at least one area never accepted this or the elections that resulted in a political break away from Russia. This was the Donbass area. Thus in 2014 a border skirmish broke out as two breakaway regions announce independent statehood vs wider Ukraine. And I haven’t mentioned the Russian annexation of Crimea that same year – which went Putin’s and the Separatists way but raised the West ire in terms of economic warfare/sanction on Russia.

Now in the most recent event we see a full-blown invasion by Russia on the entire Ukraine. Of course, in the fog of war and war’s partisan propaganda, it is not necessarily obvious who is “the bad guy” and “who is the good guy”. Putin says he is a liberator of a rogue state and a defender of Donbass and Russia from Nato encroachment, while Nato/Eu/The West says essentially Putin is a new ‘Hitler’, but isn’t willing to directly enter the fray with troops for fear of sparking WW3.

We have Volodimir Zelenskyy the Ukraine president being painted as a Churchillian figure in the West. We have The West attacking Russia with economic warfare, which surely seem to be a risk factor for major blowback, even if only economic. It seems strange that the West is very cautious regroup troops, but happy to pull the trigger on sanctions and even target Russian citizens assets on foreign land. Could this not fan the flames of a new WW3? I will briefly say this: Are we the “Western nations” acting wisely with strategy to stop the War, to stop disaster and so much death and displacement of refugees? I am not sure we are acting wisely at all.

I am also concerned about private foreign citizens signing up for the war – but I guess this has always happened – famously Orwell himself did this is the Spanish Civil War. In a depressing thought, perhaps all those decades of relative peace were simply a mirage. Did we become complacent about War so much that we became loose with our morals and lost our stoicism? Or is this still with us simply hidden under layers of metaphorical clothing? I fear we have become deluded to think that our technology, scientists, false ‘economic wizards at the central bank’s’ and progress itself has improved our world and made it “self-repairing” of its many ailments.

Perhaps we have forgotten the cyclical nature of society, and we have now landed back to the looming crisis of the 1930’s. I fear whatever is happening may be an unstoppable force, and we are strapped heartily to the “Wings of Destiny”. The only certainty now is a mathematical truism. This War, and now mass sanctions and refugees have added many new variables to our world and thus a different “world line” of results.

We may look back at 2022 as the “end of an Epoch, and the Start of another. But no one, not the brightest of the bright can knows what the world will look like in 2032. Perhaps by 2032 we will look at the “TERMINATOR” 1984 movie as prophesy, and a kindly counter revolutionary called KYLE will save us from “the Rise of the Machines” – but if that is true, will the survivors know they were saved? Or would their memories of this be under lock and key in another timeline in another parallel universe?

One feels that an era similar to the “Quantum Revolution” of the first half of the 20th century is nearly upon us. It needn’t be the much hegemonic movie script dystopia prophesy of ‘artificial intelligence’. it will probably be totally unexpected as was the World Wide Web was as a socio-technical event. Perhaps we may need to live under Europa’s sea, or on Mars sooner than we think. You can’t leave anything off the table and what is on the table may be stacked astoundingly high.

The first poem “Zen & the Art Of Not Making Nukes’ has elusions to destiny, Predestination, forgiveness and will power. We all have a choice at the individual group and nation level to forgive without necessarily forgetting. Is war not simply an inability to forgive coupled with a dream of retribution? Is not war simply the emotional immaturity of a Politician and their generals who think victory will make them and their people more valuable and respected?

The second poem is a blunt assessment that we “the human race” are still “as Chimps”, with all these fangled ways (Suits, Smartphones, Elections etc) to deny it. It’s just a few words to say that we need to be more humble and less egotistical and materialistic. Though I am guilty of insulting Chimps, I would also like to talk out both sides of my mouth and say this: We should be learning from Monkeys and other animals and live simply more have more basic and sustainable lives. We really are a troubled bunch, and I would not be surprised if the Earth culled us back.

The third Poem is about those few Women that are simply the glue that hold our communities together. These are the Women who are really like an alien race in themselves, and rise above the more standard and ridiculous Men and Women. Yes, aliens do actually exist, and I’ve met a couple of them popping in and out of the fabric of the cosmos. But alas, I’ve never been smart enough to become good friends with one. Perhaps all the War needs is the love of these good ‘alien’ woman, who will stop all the silliness immediately? Stranger things have happened! Perhaps an Alien Female Legion from Trappist star system? Or have I gone too far? After all Alpha Centuri is closer at only 4.1 Light years.

The Fourth Poem I wrote yesterday, and Is an account of “Modern War” and its deep entanglement with money. It points to the insanity whereby many get rich via war. In the poem I posit that in the 21st the soldier themselves have become infected by “Portfolio Culture” and prefers the war continue, so that his “War Stocks Don’t Tank”. The Ultimate question is do we fight wars to make money, or do we make money to fight wars? The wise know that money and a decision to go to War is front in the minds of the topper-most politicians – who never have to fight in the trenches or send in their sons and daughters.

And so let’s begin.

ZEN AND THE ART OF NOT MAKING NUKES

She Did What She Did,

Because She Was Who She Was.

If She Had Done Something Different,

She Would Not Have Been Herself.

She Would Have Been Someone Else.

And The Same Goes For Me.

This Logic Is Robust!

And Armed With This Philosophical Toolkit,

You Can Forgive Histories Worst Tyrant,

Your Parents,

Your Siblings,

Old Schoolmates,

Your Boss & Workmates,

Your Ex,

And Maybe, Just Maybe –

Yourself!

And Anyway,

Learning How To Make Small Tactical Nuclear Weapons,

In Your Parent’s Basement,

Is far Too Costly,

Intellectually Difficult,

Time Consuming,

Personal Injury Causing,

Requires Too Many International Import Licences,

And Is Impossible To Do Without Arousing Suspicion

From The Neighbours,

Who Will Undoubtedly Soon Rat You Out To The Cops.

Your Mother Of Course,

Will Be None-The-Wiser.

So Don’t Go Down That Track.

Don’t Be This Headline:

“Bitter & Twisted Middle Age Loser Arrested After Trying To Build Atomic Bomb In Their Mum’s Basement – Neighbour Tipped Off Police After A Series Of Loud Bangs & Flashes”

Just Accept:

“It Is What It Is” –

Glib But Perfectly Wise & Certainly True.

And Anyway,

Nuclear Armageddon Will Well Take Care Of Itself,

And In it’s Own Way,

Without Your Amateurish Involvement.

Claptrap The Monkey

The World Is Simply A Pantomime

A Show – A Drama – A Joke.

A Cast Full Of Chimps.

Chimps In Suits & Dresses.

Chimps With Money.

Chimps With No Money.

Nerd Chimps And Jock Chimps.

The Only Problem Is This:

The Chimps Don’t Know They Are Chimps.

Or That They Live in A World Of Make Believe.

They Certainly Don’t Know

That They Are Bad Actors.

This Fact Is The Missing First Page

Of All the History Books That Have Ever Been Written.

But Who Tore Them Out?

In other words,

A billion monkeys

all working at a billion typewriters,

Will eventually type the word

Honorific-abilitudin-itatibus.

END OF POEM

(NOTE : Honorific-abilitudin-itatibus eaning is “The state of someone that can achieve honors “. It is the longest word in Shakespeare‘s works; longest word in the English language featuring alternating consonants and vowels[11])

“Modern Woman”

She wears a cape,

She climbs walls,

Much to my chagrin.

She leaps in shadows,

She twists and shouts,

Watch out enemies.

Where wild men fight,

She whips up a storm,

Now they drink moonshine.

She’s forward in time,

She’s Backward in space

She’s colors in the sky.

She tries to trick,

She’s glad to gloat,

She lights the cosmic pipes.

She can hold

A beam of light

And see around the bend.

She said to the sun,

Can closer I come?

But will you melt my mind?

“Soldier Shares in WW3″ 

At Forty-Three, I Got The Nod,

From Couch Blob to World War Three.

Now I’m Half Starving And almost Dead!

But I Haven’t Even Left Yet!

Now There’s a Constant Ringing In My Head.

Coz That Bullet Came From ‘Direction Z’.

But Don’t Despair, My Fellow Bean,

If The War Continues ’til After Tea,

My Share’s Go up 2000 per cent!

Lo and Behold! I’ll Upgrade From The Trench,

To A Raincoat – And Then,

To a Glamorous, High Ceiling Tent!

But If The Enemy Surrenders,

This Great War Will End,

And My Share’s Will Tank!

I’ll Be Skint, Flat Broke – Outa Bread!

But Never-mind Dear Chap,

I Messaged The Other Side,

And Asked Them Politely,

To Keep Up the Fighting.

So Not To Sell Us Short!

For In The Madness of 21st Century War,

Having No Money or Stocks,

Is Universally Agreed Upon As

a Fate Far Worse Than Death.

P.s. The Glorious Soldier Outlasted The War,

And Basks In the Sun Outside His Mansion,

In the Cayman Islands.

And Now Writes His Glorius Memoirs,

Of Trading Stocks,

Amid Whizzing Bullets,

Going Past His Ears,

In the Trenches,

On A “Smartphone”

At “The Front”.

Thank you for listening to the Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

Podcast Transcript Episode: 3 Dystopian Sci-Fi Poems – “Future’s Friend” “A Holiday in Goolagaticus” “The Wind Of Nations”

Posted in podcast, Poems, sci-fiTagged , , Leave a comment

Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read 3 New Poem called “Future’s Friend” “A Holiday in Goolagaticus” “The Wind Of Nations”. These are of my favourite genre Dystopian Sci-Fi.

The First Poem “Future’s Friend” is about an intelligent being that has been sent to our near present to basically save us from ourselves. A 23rd Century future generation of earth has the ability to see past history and amend the parts of it that enter “the redzone”. It this case the future Earth civilisation have developed to the point where Ghost like Operatives can be sent on military/intelligence missions and rectify the worst problems that arise. These operatives are so advanced and have god-like powers due to the advances made from now to the 23rd Century where they exist. These missions are surgical aim to ensure that the past problems are solved and also that paradoxes are also not created that may entail the destruction of the mission and the future. They have come because at current the Earth is being run by evil fools and the earths citizens have become so weak that they have allowed this, thus they must be saved by the “friends” from the future.

The Next Poem is “A Holiday In Goolagaticus” – it is simply a fly on the wall account of some of the realities of living in a near future concentration camp for those of us deemed “Uncompliant”. In the camp people are reprogrammed so as to become “Complient”. This poem is a warning to how we seem to fool ourselves, or be fooled by Politicians who tell us via propaganda and propaganda language that concentration camps are just “detainment camps” and there are great sensible reasons to take away basic human rights of the prisoners.

The final Poem is called “The Wind Of Nations” and it is more of an “ancient scripture” inspired piece which outlines a Beast that comes to wreak havoc on the nations. It is in parable form, and thus is designed to be appropriate to many ages and is a moral warning to citizens to not be foolish and to be wise about society and those that wish to destroy it – and those people are more numerous than we tend to admit to ourselves. All these poems were written recently and are related to each other – perhaps as chapters in a larger unfinished work. Taken together I hope the themes re-enforce each other synergeticly.

Let me begin the first poem, the second and then the last respectively.

Future’s Friend

The Century Begun

And Stated Off Bad.

The False Flag Wars,

The Mad Scientists,

The Men In Suits,

Did Stop the Earth.

The Computers Rose,

And Took the World.

***********************************

It Came From Tomorrow,

It Came From Nothingness.

It Wore No Cape,

It Climbed No Walls,

Leaped No Shadows,

Didn’t twist or Shout.

It’s here To Fight.

To Kick Them Out.

***********************************

The Future Said

“Go Back In time”,

“Save Those Souls”,

“Disrupt Their Time”,

“Kill The Man-Beasts”,

“Kill The Machines”,

“Kill The Cloud”,

“That Killed The Crowd”.

***********************************

There Was Too Much Trust,

And To Much Cash.

A Time Of Dopes.

A Time Of Thieves.

The Future Must Strike!

To Save The Lives!

Thanks To The Future!

The Future, Your friend.

***********************************

In A Flash

The Future Came.

Took The Good,

Sunk The Bad.

Land Made Anew,

The Good Returned.

An Easy Task

For Future’s Friend.

(End Of Poem)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A Holiday In Goolagaticus

Welcome to Goolagaticus

You are the “uncompliant”.

Let’s now raise our glasses high,

and paint you ultra-violent.

////

Let me take you by the hand,

and show you our campfires.

Now take this black pill & lie down

and then you’ll sleep okay.

**********************************************************

Now I’m just an automaton,

an automated soldier.

Don’t do this, don’t do that,

these are my orders.

////

Let me take you by the eyes,

I’ll show you new desires.

Now take this screen and sit down,

and then you’ll feel okay.

*********************************************************

We’re all brainwashed by his word,

this false god of our dreams.

‘Let there be light’ – he did say,

But then he made us blind men.

////

Let me take you by the brain,

I’ll make you new memories.

Now take this key & swallow whole,

and then you’ll run okay.

*********************************************************

Don’t step left, don’t step right.

This – your so-called life.

Don’t look blank, don’t look bright.

This your day, this your night.

////

My enemy, the false memory,

Then the memories became my enemies.

Knock Knock, let me in.

I’m not in, I’ve flown away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Wind Of Nations

There was a four-winged Beast that was too heavy to fly well.

An Intelligent being came from above & removed two of the wings.

The loss of two wings, made the beast lighter and nimbler.

And it flittered and rode the winds as does a dragonfly.

***************************

The Beast had many colors red white green yellow and blue.

And then the waters rained down upon it.

Some colors survived unchanged, some were lost and some were transformed.

The blue dot was uniform and strong, but now it is mottled paled and misshapen.

The dot now looks as if it is the earth being struck by an asteroid or a missile?

The bodies tail is a blue whoosh, the asteroid is pure white.

It strikes the centre of the earth.

***************************

There was a yes and a no, written on a shiny surface,

they were poles apart. and rotating around each other.

And when they revolved around each other,

the ‘Yes’ merged with the ‘No’ and became a blur.

***************************

And then the waters rained down upon it.

And the ‘No’ is now more emboldened, while the ‘Yes’ is faded.

And when they revolved around each other,

the ‘Yes’ became invisible and the ‘No’ and became clear.

So, the answer to the question is “No”.

But I ask of thee sincerely, what is the Question?

***************************

And then once again, the waters rained down.

But when I opened my eyes

I could not see the Beast anymore.

For there were no longer any winds to carry it.

(End Of Poem)

Thank you for listening to the Baby wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

https://open.spotify.com/embed/episode/3pQ1hpk1S88GYbnomwfdy9?utm_source=generator

“Future’s Friend” ( A Poem)

Posted in dystopia, fiction, philosophy, podcast, Poems, warTagged , , Leave a comment

The Century Begun

And Started Off Bad.

The False Flag Wars,

The Mad Scientists,

The Men In Suits,

Did Stop the Earth.

The Computers Rose,

And Took the World.

******************************************

It Came From Tomorrow,

It Came From Nothingness.

It Wore No Cape,

It Climbed No Walls,

Leaped No Shadows,

Didn’t twist or Shout.

It’s here To Fight.

To Kick Them Out.

*************************************

The Future Said

“Go Back In time”,

“Save Those Souls”,

“Disrupt Their Kind”,

“Kill The Man-Beasts”,

“Kill The Machines”,

“Kill The Cloud”,

“That Killed The Crowd”.

*************************************

There Was Too Much Trust,

And To Much Cash.

A Time Of Dopes.

A Time Of Thieves.

The Future Must Strike!

To Save The Lives!

Thanks To The Future!

The Future, Your friend.

*************************************

In A Flash

The Future Came.

Took The Good,

Sunk The Bad.

Land Made Anew,

The Good Returned.

An Easy Task

For Your Future Self.

Podcast Transcript: The War of “23-“39 / How I Escaped my UNiT in the UnCity (1 Poem /1 Short Story )

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Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read a New Poem called “The War of “23-“39” and Short Story/Poem Hybrid called “How I Escaped my UNiT in the UnCity”. These are as most my stuff on this blog, quickly written pieces, rough and should really be work on a lot more. The themes are Sci Fi Dystopian.

Both these are of course influenced by the pandemic era we are still living in, as we have been for now to years. Both these works I guess point to a rebel type fightback vs dark forces and authoritarian characters that may have already popped up in the real world. We are as they say in the “fog of war” or at least in the “fog of immediate History” and as such what is right what is wrong and who are the good guys and who are the bad guys is not known yet.

Given the fog effect, It is doubtful whether it will know for at least for perhaps at least 10 years (History takes it’s time and is of course written by the ‘victors’). But who will be the Victors? And in 10 years will the analysis be of a “shortish pandemic” where we essentially went back to normal, or will the pandemic simply be an entree for different and equally troublesome matters? We could ask ourselves the following questions: Will Russia Invade Ukraine, Will China Invade Taiwan, Will the USA have a Civil War 2.0? Will The 2024 Election be a debacle for of beliefs that it cannot be legitimate? Will there be a Big Economic Crash or more positively – will there be peace and a post pandemic 1920’s like Boom and Party phase? I guess all we need to do is survive and we’ll be right in the thick of whatever happens. We will either be given a rock to hide under, some sand to put our heads into or tap on the shoulder to rebel/enlist/defend. Or perhaps nothing will happen at all.

Let me start the first Poem followed by the Short Story.

“The War of “23-“39″ (Poem by Martin Anton Smith)

Welcome to Techno City Gulags
Where We Welcome the “Un-Complient”
Let’s Raise Our Glasses
To the Army of Empty Amphora

I’m Private Smith of Operation Barbarian
Just An Un-Complient Automaton Soldier
I Simply Couldn’t Comprehend
When Relayed Of The War’s End

It Was In Twenty Thirty Nine
We Defeated the Worlds Enemy
His Name Was UNiT the Un-Known
The Un-God Implanted In Our Dreams

We Are The Army of Empty Amphora

And They Stole Blood From Our Veins

They Took Our Voices And Then Our Thoughts

But Come For Our Souls? – ‘Think Again’.

“How I Escaped my UNiT in the UnCity“

Short story by Martin Anton Smith

Welcome to Techno City Gulags.

Leave your real -world cares behind.

Our false God will be your saviour.

His name is UNiT the Un-Barbarian.

He is the Un-God of your dreams.

UNiT The Un-Barbarian Created a New World,

Out of the ashes of the old.

UNiT the Un-God spoke to all via thought messages.

UNiT’s first words created this new Unreality, he said:

“Let there be Un-Jobs”,

and there were.

“Let there be an Un-economy”,

and there it mathematically was.

“Let there be Un-Cities”,

and there invisibly so, they dwelt.

“Let there be Un-Unhappiness”,

and no one felt anything inside anymore.

“Let the People be un-unfree”,

And no one wanted to be either here nor there, as they were always in the same place.

And having spoken these words UNiT had now created his New Un-Reality.

————

Welcome to ‘Techno City Gulags’

Where we welcome the “Un-Complient”.

In TCG there is no need for physical freedom,

For we create a virtual paradise for but a small fee.

A simple monthly pledge of allegiance, is all we ask!

Now Repeat the ‘Three Un-Mantra’s’ After Me:

“I Agree that ‘UNiT the Un-Barbarian’ is your Un-God.”

“I Agree that the Real World is a Danger to Everyone. “

“I Agree That Paradise lies in The Un-City called Techno City Gulags. “

So now do you see how simple the new paradise will be?

Soon you will be transported away from the drudgerous & tiresome so called ‘real world’!

All you need to go there is to repeat the daily ‘Un-Mantra’, the 3 lines of Un-life.

And you will be un-unhappy and un-unfree,

Living safely in the Un-City,

as an Un-Complient Automaton.

Blissfully Un-Unhappy, for you have no human emotions.

You will become the ‘treasured property’ Of Our Un-God,

UNiT The UN-Barbarian!

—————

I became so brainwashed by these silky-smooth words,

I had agreed to enter the Un-Gates.

I was half way through the ‘Third Mantra’:

“I agree that Paradise lies in Tech…”

And I was suddenly interrupted & enlightened,

by something everlasting yet also ephemeral,

That words cannot clearly describe.

This unknown force had pulled the plug on all the silliness.

There and then,

I left the almost-created ‘UnCity’, and my ‘Un-Job’ behind.

As I left, I saw over my shoulder the Un-God “UNiT the Un-Barbarian”,

He fuming and cussing at me with super-human ferocity.

While metamorphizing from solidity to opaqueness to invisibility, he said:

“You may be wise & free but billions of you over there are but an army of empty amphora,

And I will fill you all with deception & you will soon again drink of my wine”.

“Don’t be so sure Unit” I said robustly, for your corruption is a mere shadow,

You are but a fearful parasitic tick on the back of a mightier and soulful beast,

Simply one tail flick or shrug from falling back into your deep abyss.

I was happy to be on my way,

Un-brainwashed, Uncompliant and free,

Gathering steam, and bringing many almost-taken ‘others’ back with me.

The End

Thank you for listening to the Baby wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.