Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

The Information Age

by Alexander Velky

An explosion of filaments
Encircled the globe,
Unwound like a butterfly's proboscis:
A hundred butterflies' proboscises
In a heptagonal prism of mirrors,
Until all but the basest savages
Were stuck in a universal language
That few, if any, understood.
Its electrical weft
Gradually clarified the lies
That had clogged each synapse;
And with their collapse
We were afforded choices:
The malicious and malignant,
Or the ignorant and indignant.
Everything that's ever said or done
Now threatens to infect infinity;
Should any one of us drift asleep,
Like Rip Van Winkle, on a mountainside,
We might be woken with a jolt,
One balmy afternoon
A century hence,
By an opinion of our own,
For which we can no longer proffer a defence,
Echoing in our ears.
History's great figures are reduced
To lilliputian scale;
Each timeless work of art is recognised
In so many illuminated shapes,
And mass produced for sale;
Every page of every holy book
Is annotated now
By some agnostic saint.
Information is the newest currency,
They say - it may be true.
Embrace the chaos, I say,
Before the chaos embraces you.

Added: 04.04.2011

Judges' comments on this poem


Interesting subject, nice use of discourse


Good use of alliteration. An interesting idea sustained throughout.


Interesting condemnation and celebration of our postmodern age!