Uncategorized – Page 7 – Anton Martin Smith Writer

Beards, Pitchforks, & Drays (A Prose Poem)

October 18, 2025October 23, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged AI, coca cola, dystopia, Poems, social commentary, technology, The Amish, The Future, Warnings of AILeave a comment

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

Some days I think of ‘Donkeys & Drays’.

& Not becasue I am a ‘freak’ – that is beside the point.

I am musing of the the many mega-foibles, of our medern technology

For The Amish were right,

They said no to the Model T,

& kept their horse & cart.

Once ridiculed as luddites,

They are now looking like geniuses.

For the biblical ‘apple of knowledge’ warning is true:

The idea that Tech will bring forward ‘Utopia’ is probably a sly illusion.

Now that we are about to be enslaved by smart robots,

We are starting to finally get it.

Yes, there will come a day when you trade in your ‘Tesla’ for a ‘Dray’.

You will pick the dray up from the Amish folk,

And The Tesla will be given to the ‘smart robots’ to drive away in.

But because you are wiser than most, you have moved early to become Amish-like.

It’s always wise to be an ‘early adopter’ anyway – is it not?.

For soon you will have no choice:

For while the catch cry of “technology is the future” was true once,

Long term – It was not true for us, it was true for them…the futures artificial beings.

Our future will be full of:

Ridiculously Long Beards,

Dowdy clothing,

Garden-grown food,

Rusty Old Pitchforks,

Campfire musings,

Donkeys, Horses, & Drays.

And we’ll be really surprised that for all of this – we’re all a lot more happier for it.

While pitchforking away the mountains of hay, we will turn to our ex-cubicle workmate & say:

“The Amish were right all along – I’m having a blast, why was I a cubicle-techno-sucker for so long?”.

To which your now long-bearded or long dressed ex-cubicle workmate will say:

“I totally agree, but I do miss coca-cola just a tad”.

To which you will reply by pointing & shouting.

“JUDAS!”,

While still privately thinking they are correct,

Within the privacy of you own mind…

This article is owned by Martin Smith Creations ltd (NZ). If you are a person or a small non-profit please read or reproduce freely. Commercial Users or NGO’s: If you want to purchase for reprint of this work for a commercial project to reach a wider audience – then contact me via martinantonsmith@gmail.com to gain written legal permission.

“Deadly De-Facto’s” (A Poem)

October 11, 2025October 23, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged alcohol, Australasia, Defactos, Freedom, life, Life In NZ, Life's Meaning, Meaning, Slice-of-lifeLeave a comment

by Anton MartinSmith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

They are not ‘chilling’ at all..

They are avoiding life itself.

By avoiding all chances of pain,

They also killed the oasis’ of creativity,

That the world delivers only haphazardly.

They murdered their ‘pals of camaraderie’ –

Most of who existed but were never summoned.

For how does a life become a-life-worthwhile?

Interestingly their pain simply compounded anyway.

At least the smarter ones involved at least knew to drink –

For if a fool’s errand doth live – then let it raise a glass to itself.

“No! – Mans Best Friend is a Not a Dr…” (A Prose Poem)

October 9, 2025October 23, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Cartels, Doctors, Dr, fantasy, fiction, Humerous Prose, Humour, Laughs, life, Medico Industry, Scams, short story, Slice Of madness, Spoken Word, witty proseLeave a comment

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

Are You Seriously Unwell or Just Mega Jaded?

This is a serious question.

I am sure that in reality there is no difference.

After all surely the symptoms “Mega Jaded” qualify:

Brain Fog to the extreme;

Total lack of energy;

Zero Motivation;

Feelings of Depression;.

You may as well be diagnosed with Chronic-Fatigue-Syndrome, aka CFS

Or Multiple Sclerosis, aka MS.

Or the dreaded ‘God-Knows-What-Syndrome’, aka GKWS.

The problem is if you are just “Mega jaded”,

Which is really just a form of “Burnout” –

To which the sufferer’s complaints no one listens, let alone hands out ‘free passes’ for.

It’s not ‘fair’ but then again only the biggest fools expect life to be ‘fair’.

The Mega Jaded/Burnt out are told to “snap out of it loser”,

Usually & most frequently by the people who look the saddest when they smile.

While if you have CFS or MS you welcomed as a ‘cash cow’ by the ‘Medico Scammers’ –

Who are a variety of the ‘ look saddest when they smile fraternity’ –

Who are always hungry for Taxpayer Lobster Dinners – aka TLD’s.

So, if you are “Mega Jaded” you may as well get your free ‘Dr Lobster Diagnosis’ – aka D.L.D.

Let the ‘Cash Cow’ out of the milking sheds!

& when the ship finally goes down – it won’t matter anyway –

For The Lobsters will survive & the Doctors will die.

I’d call that an all-round societal win-win for all,

Including the Drs themselves,

Most of who are tired of ScamDoctoringTM anyway,

But the Medico-Mafia-System has their balls or ovaries in a formaldehyde-filled-jar.

A Cynical summation? – yes – but at least 51% entirely ‘scamftifically’ true,

& Poetically speaking – at least 100% true – which btw isn’t saying much.

And now it’s time to fly – but let me leave you with a final ‘surmisory’ penultimate witticism.

As the anti-Bob Dylan once never crooned -“Oh the times they are a un-changin’ “

& Ladies & Gents! To put the final boot – that may-in-time-one-day reach ‘adage status’:

No!!! – Mans Best Friend is a Not a Dr – Yet His Nose Is Just As Wet.

An update from the writer

October 4, 2025October 7, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged blog, family, fans, fiction, Update, writingLeave a comment

Hello there fellow readers of creativity…..

I hope the world has shown its silver linings to the many gloomy clouds that abound…..

Things have been ok with me – the cold winter is gone & I manage to eke by with a few handyman jobs….

…..though I did get three wasp stings to my face on a job……

….I looked like “the elephant man for 2 days….

…..I learnt to wear a face covering while cutting back overgrowth in a back yard!

Outside that just normal family issues that a 47-year-old has (older parents being a major factor!).

BULLET POINT SITE NEWS TIME!

I have a cool update – I have added a link for “Buy me a coffee” at the permanent top right of the web page!
My novella/Novel is going well – XXXXXXSPOILER ALERT XXXXXXX I am up to the point where the AI computer speaks
The Site has had its 500th like
The site has already surpassed last years traffic/views by 20%
This weirdo is still happy writing (I won’t dare mention that thing writers get that has initials of W.B.)

So things are mostly ok overall, though I have been a little bad at networking…..this is a problem of writers…we don’t naturally do the networking thing well – which is bad for business….we can only try to incrementally improve on this. We need to put our ‘business hats’ on a little more, in the same way that a parent force feed their kids to ‘eat their veges’ – ‘they don’t like it but they have to do it for their health’ (or they used force feed us veges in my 80s 90s era).

Anywho…I will keep this short.

“Keep eating those WORDS WORDS WORDS – Less THEY EAT YOU”

Anton Martin Smith (my new pen name a small rejig of my real one)

p.s. thanks to all my new subscribers! I now have 54 I think!

“The Great Weirdo aka me Anton Martin Smith ”

“The Maiden Of Procrastination” (A Poem)

September 29, 2025October 4, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged fiction, Humour, personal-growth, Poems, Procrastination, productivity, self-improvement, The Human Condition, time-management, writingLeave a comment

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

This poem was meant to be written.

It was a close-run thing,

With pen almost hitting the page on multiple occasions,

However, Procrastination’s elk-like swiftness batted each of the pen’s tentative literary forays away.

Alas, The Pen didn’t make even a single “dot” appearance on the page – period.

But The Pen showed redoubtable courage under fire,

& if not for an unfortunate series of events – namely these:

Musical distractions of classic rock ‘n’ roll nature;

Dreams of past misdeeds towards various long gone & now fictionalised exe’s;

Too many tasty crunchy bloat-ey chocolatey snacks;

And the big daddy reason:

Multiple acute (but not very cute) pangs of self-doubt –

Yes….that old chestnut.

Yes it had seemed that in the end – Procrastination won this battle.

And oh my – what would have been!

It was going to be a real rollercoaster of literary truth & amusement.

The effervescence of true originality was set to bubble over all meridians & latitudes of Earth & beyond!

And I’m probably overstating it but –

The world may have tilted just a little off its axis in a slanted form of metaphorical joy.

Oh what a pity the battle was lost & alas nothing ever was written into the papery folds of space-time at all.

I’m sure someone far smarter & way more Ancient Greek-er said it before me, BUT:

When Procrastination wins – a bit of our future self, doth die.

Luckily there abounds one prescriptive partial solution to the sad wings of Procrastination’s foul swoops.

& It is thus:

Let ye write of thy valiant battles lost to that un-fair maiden-of-procrastination.

For then you have succeeded in the rare art of making something from nothing.

Which many of the more astute quantum minded of you will already know,

Is not entirely out of the realms of all possibility.

After all – is this poem not a testament to that oft disregarded fact?

The writer now wishes to congratulate the enemy of Procrastination for their hard-fought victory.

But the Pen holder is at least proud that they showed some old-fashioned last minute plucky-ness,

By retreating, recuperating & retiring to a handy place right behind the left ear.

& the would-be writer avows fiercely to return much stronger in the next Pen vs Procrastination theatre of war.

So ’till we meet again my anti-ephemeral anti-friend & arch enemy,

Till our next very weary psychological-warfare coupling,

Till our much-needed warring embrace,

Till in taking up arms we both inadvertently till the soil of that literary battle-scape called paper.

Or to modernise I guess I should really say ‘puter.

You never know – one of us may win the highly coveted “Iron Uncross 1st class”.

Yes, Fair thee well O’ our always defiant, ever-present adversary! –

O’ Unfair Maiden of Procrastination

Bye-Bye for now.

“Frivolities At The Asian Eatery” ( A Poem/Prose).

September 20, 2025October 2, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged food, Humour, japan, Korea, life, Poems, Pork Donburri, recipes, Restaurants, travel, writingLeave a comment

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

It’s time for some Pork Donburi with Miso Soup –

I think to myself as I cross the road.

The little Japanese eatery is now open late,

It’s a slice of urban chique in my sleepy-rural-small-town-hollow.

I wander in for value dinner, having spurned my regular Chinese haunt –

But only for tonight, just for a change.

For loyalty must be spliced with the spice of occasional dissent –

Less the proprietor becomes lazy toward you,

Less they take you for granted.

They must be regularly reminded you can still freely eat elsewhere.

Yes – in life there are always ‘games being played’,

& with age you realise games exist for good reason.

So, I order the Pork Donburi – nice ‘n’ spicey – with the miso soup, it goes down a treat.

On the way out I buy some cheap leftover counter sushi – the proprietor gives me some free chicken too.

I noticed that when serving the Korean man sang his words.

Now here-is-some-pork-donburi-for-yooou, now here is yooour change

I knew he was Korean, for I had asked him if he was Japanese, & he had corrected me.

I can’t remember how, but I ended up telling him that I was writing a novella.

I told him that ‘we writers’* often inject a real-life character we see out & about into our writing.

After I told him this, he said in child-like fashion (in a good sence) that he wanted to be put into my novel.

I told him that’s it’s mostly finished & the characters are set – but there was still a slim chance.

I warned that he’d to be interesting enough to be chosen to travel onto the pages of future fiction.

He said that he also sung Karaoke, aiming to gain my literary affections.

I said that that doesn’t cut it for a Novel, Novella or a Short Story – but he might make a poem.

“Poems are easy enough to make” I tell him.

He’s a good friendly guy, & his food is tasty & at good prices.

He probably works too hard yet everyday he still wears a genuine smile.

Which can’t be easy over the long term especially so with silence-loving-small-town-folk.

It’s only fair that I spend at last fifteen minutes whipping him up a free poem –

After all he’d given me some free spicey chicken, hadn’t he?

It’s a fair trade – spicey-but-still-tasty-leftover-sushi for some personalised-slice-of-life-poetry.

Plus, he’ll get a bonus smile next week when I read him his poem in person.

And if he surprisingly asks me:

“Praytell – why did this poem cross the road?”

I’ll know he’s not really the-singing-Korean-chef-with-a-Japanese-eatery-behind-the-counter-of-a-small town at all –

…perhaps something far far more sinister or perhaps even beautiful**

All-in-all I would summarise all this as the following spinning-newspaper-tabloid-headline:

“Deadbeat Poet Says Frivolities At The Asian Eateries Are Less Than Frivolous”.

*Yes, it sounds like I had my head up my own ass – I agree with you oh reader.

** when read in public this must be said with a theatrical nod, indicating an ulterior motive may be involved.

“The Watchers” (A Poem/Prose/Spoken word )

September 14, 2025September 15, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Aliens, humans, Humour, Pleiadians, Poems, The Human Condition, writingLeave a comment

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

They hide away from anyone with brains who might educate/enlighten,

About that stuff that they know very little about.

For their fragile still teenage ego could not survive it.

For that would make them have to be honest with themselves:

They would have to squarely face their demons:

That they peaked in high school – & it was a fake peak at that.

For that was the place where they could hide ignorance,

Disguise it as ‘coolness’ via the trick of aloofness.

They still use this trick at age 25,35,45,55.

And the really committed losers do it till the death rattle sounds.

It’s one of the saddest things that you’ll ever see day-to-day,

Amoungst so many of the Earth people.

They miss out on their intended lives,

To use their own phrase – they make ‘old fools’ of themselves,

They turn away those who can help them grow.

We only hope this crapulent solipsistic behaviour is not madness or badness

But is because of some weird as yet undiscovered warped form of Milky Way shyness.

Oh you Humans when will you learn?

For I can tell you – Us Pleiadeans are getting rather sick of you all,

We are considering abandoning our elected post as the watchers.

The Galactic Federation is considering dropping you entirely,

Swapping you for another more paletable intergalactic zoo.

Yes earthlings – the Trappist star system humanoid oiks throw considerably less shit at each other.

So, don’t take us ‘watchers’ for granted, ok?

For now just rest at ease, o’ wild Humans.

For just like on Earth,

The wheels of Galactic Justice also move slowly.

You can still turn things around.

Us Pleiadian Watchers all doubt it – but in theory it’s still possible.

“Circa 1984-87, The Ballad Of NZ” ( A Prose Poem/Spoken Word)

September 8, 2025September 8, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Australia, Brain Drain, Economics, fiction, life, Neoliberalism, New Zealand, New Zealand History, NZ, Paul Keating, politics, writingLeave a comment

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com

The Politicians were too young,

Or too stupid,

Or too lacking in real life experience,

Or too Professorial,

Or too academic,

Or too Lawyerly,

Or in truth – they were all of the above.

High on bad Neoliberal theory.

The so called “Washington Consensus”.

The Corporate Raider Lobby got to them,

In true ‘Wolf in sheep’s clothing’ fashion.

They were sold a story of “growing up & becoming worldly”.

For the Anglo-American Wolf did cry:

“NZ’s is just a silly backwater – don’t you want to be suave, like us?”.

“You must sell all those great ‘bad’ assets at a fire-sale to us”

“You must work more for less, so we can charge more for less”

“You must be a part of our single-blind experiment & guess who the blind one is dummy!”

“Now be good little slaves now stupid-o’s & do exactly as we say!”

“You have reached your destiny – as our fully propagandised automoton living breathing data points”

“And don’t worry if your society becomes a living hellscape – we promise to buy you a coke”

“Oh, wait did I say that out loud? Please forget I said that O Backward-o NZ 1980’s Politicians”

The Dopey Politicians took it all in hook, line, & ‘stinker’.

The Corporate Raiders took over,

Took over the minds of our oh so feeble Politicians.

And while we “The People” sank further into the mire,

They all said to us:

“Oh look at that beautiful mire you’re stuck in – I reckon some daisies are about to sprout”

“Oh, look you’re sinking further, don’t worry breath through this plastic drink straw”

“Oh no! You’re not breathing – oh well at least you can’t ever lodge a protest vote”

This is the ballad of the giant swindle that shoulda-neva-‘appened.

Yes! This was the shit-show called “NZ Circa 1984-1987”.

Yes! – We now have no bananas!

Well – none at affordable prices anyway.

Which is pretty strange – given we’ve been in a Banana Republic,

For 41 consecutive mire-filled years.

Oh well! I guess this is our lot in life.

For we went from hard-truth-seeking-knowing-soldier-farmer-labourer-types,

To weak willed bender-over-ers & take-it-up-the-butt-ers,

In only Thirty-Nine short years.

Yup we the people folded to those Anglo-American-Politico-Demons to easily.

Alas we were so open minded, that we not only let our brains fall out,

But we let them roll under the ocean & all the way across the Tasman,

Stopping only when they landed in Keating et al’s far-lap.

This was Circa 1984-1987, The Ballad of NZ.

And PS – we never got the Coke.

Musings about our Kiwi (& Aussies) lives. (A Blog post/update)

September 3, 2025October 3, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged anxiety, Australia, Australians, blog, Cultural Issues, life, mental-health, nature, New Zealanders, NZ, NZvsAustrala, PTSD, Stress, writing3 Comments

Today I was wondering about Kiwis (Sorry you Aussies are relegated to the P.S. section) – I was wondering why we are so reclusive. I came up with this line of thinking:

Why do we NZ’ers not know that our ultra-reclusiveness is something we are deeply hamstrung by? Does this mean we’re stupid as well? Or is it arrogance? Perhaps it is simply a form of entrenched genetic PTSD stemming from our ‘Let’s escape our shitty UK lives’ ancestry. yes – that’s gotta be it!

So this kind of makes me feel better – we are probably all suffering from a heavily entrenched & now genetic level PTSD. It’s not because we are stupid, or arrogant at all. And besides, we are natural ‘Mr Fixits’ – you can’t be stupid & know how to fix everything – so case closed.

So while I feel happy about this – this is still a worry. Becasue while ultra-reclusiveness may help us ‘tinker away happily fixing things in sheds’, it is bad for our mental health to be so insular. This is under the thesis ‘ a problem shared is a problem halved’ thesis. We don’t share our problems – especially males – so our mental problems are relatively doubled compared to the (perhaps only mythical & not actually real) ‘happy problem sharing society’.

Yes we try to get better on this – but I’m not sure we can force ourselves to be better. I think that will only help us perhaps ten to twenty percent. To change 50% we have to somehow change who we are. I don’t know much – but I’m sure that won’t come from talk alone. So the answer must be this:

We need to find a new project to totally enliven us – but what the hell would that be?

I will end here – becasue I don’t have the answer to this problem. Hopefully (to use an overused term) it ‘sparks debate’ & some genius will save us all from our ‘hideaway & tinker syndrome’. But the worry of that course of action we often look for a saviour in all the wrong places. Just look at 20th Century History. in the hope of getting better, we better no get worse.

Good luck to us & all others like us (Eastern Europe?)!

P.s. the Aussies surely have the same ‘Genetic level PTSD’ problem – but they are ultra competitive lot, & can pick on each other rabidly – if that’s a ‘solution’ to their entrenched cultural PTSD then could the solution be worse than the disease? Or am I just dreamin’?.

P.P.S The Aussies are certainly making more money than us – but are they happier? I’m not sure that the truly are. After all – remember your grandparents dictum of it’s not what you earn, it’s what you save….& prices on their side of the ditch are roughly on a par with us (& everywhere else in the western world).

P.P.P.S At least we kiwi’s when stressed can always blindly walk into our back yards that are also giant beautiful nature parks. we defnitely have this over our Aussie cousins as an ‘anti-PTSD pill’.

Cheers Anton Martin Smith

email me at antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com