Menu
Noir Vortex
  • About
  • Writing
    • Prose and short stories
    • Theory
    • iC0de Articles
    • Poetry
    • Cultural Review
    • Scientific Theories
  • Audio Stories
  • Books
  • Media
    • Funny Philosophy [Video Series]
    • The Tunnel Art Manifesto [Film]
    • The Artist Engineer Manifesto [Film]
    • Clockwork Hearts Film
    • Ivory Tower Dream Tome [Poetry Film]
    • Live Mixes
    • Music
  • Twine Games
  • Blog
  • Contact me
Noir Vortex

This Modern Age of Man

Posted on December 10, 2016September 16, 2017

You put your heart on the page, they don’t read or hear it beat,
you put your naked heart blood pumping ache on canvas –
nobody looks;

Repetitions from a diseased mind, a morbid obsession with pain
they pre-judge and juggle your desires
cackling with wine stained lips, cultural elites.
Billionaires sleep on steeds of black in high rise buildings
whilst we scrimp and fight for air in a densely choking concrete,
in a sky bled with treason, the choking night, bleeding.

You pull your bleeding heart from your chest, wrenched as
gift of poet from cavities – they demand a price and chortle
‘this romanticism cannot last, how long before he loses an ear’
chortle chortle

Every inch of me burns bright light in an endless spiritual pain
nobody looks, nobody wants to any more;
the death of the world continues with a newscast at 6pm on the dot.

Crucify yourself to your visions;
Nail yourself to your own weakness you placid creature
slave to your desire, Jew alone in a desert, burning and alone.

Weeping. Tearing at one’s own skin and bone, this prison of flesh.
Burnt and infinite howl.

The modern age of man – uniform acceptance of mediocrity
that burning in the brain is not needed, we want daytime telly
and plenty of it. Oil refinery dreams gleamed from desert shores
easy answers, plenty of war please and 24/7 coverage.

I judge you man, and my judgement is final;
silence that leads to rebirth -screaming and spluttering
from fresh cosmic womb a holy scream that will shake the mountains
and empty silence into it’s hiding place, grace.
A Utopian paradise of soul.

Hmm, The ending is surprising –
water.

Tags

art beta bootstrap brokengod confessional counter-culture css cybernetics design dev digital art electronic electronica engineer ethics evil game game design game development gameguru games jinni lol music narrative philosophy podcast poems poetry prose questions sci-fi science short story technology theory the tunnel thinking tutorial twine video vlog web design Web Dev writing

Follow me on Twitter

My Tweets

Blog Stats

  • 5,920 hits

Recent Posts

  • The Oddballs will inherit the Earth – Vlog
  • The Oddballs will inherit the Earth by Chris Godber
  • The Oddballs will Inherit the Earth [Audiostory]
©2021 Noir Vortex | Powered by SuperbThemes & WordPress