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

04.05.2011

Interesting subject, nice use of discourse

04.05.2011

Good use of alliteration. An interesting idea sustained throughout.

04.05.2011

Interesting condemnation and celebration of our postmodern age!

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