Rage Against The Machines

For this challenge, I am taking a different route and submitting a poem for the rap music genre. In the light of current events, I dug up this oldie, which was written straight off the top of my head, something rappers can relate to. Think: freestyle. My creative input may deviate from the task at hand in some aspects, but as a lover of all kinds of music and as a gal who likes to push boundaries, stepping outside the box is a personal must.

Without further delay, I bring you a rap raging against AI takeover. Conspiracy theory or mass paranoia? I leave it all up to you, the reader.

*****

Nightmare, awakened; my head pounds

Scream — oh, this dream, this dream, this scared-awake dream

Am I doomed, am I deemed forsaken

These wayward thoughts, No —these haunting thoughts

Need paper jots

For tormenting sounds of shadows’ hounds

Feels like ten rounds

My mind rebounds

Are we all damned like Salem’s Lot

I’d rather not think this thought, but still

I must ponder the future of dream-born torture

Who can I trust? should I, ought?

Our human fate, is it too late

A clever crafting, high-tech culture

In swoops vulture, through an open gate

Belittle, berate; I won’t relate

To the green-skinned beast

Whose eyes have set a feast

On human feelings, emotions in motion

Detecting the potential

For side dealings — they crave such reelings

So consequential, a magic potion

To invade our minds

Made smooth like lotion

Befriend the man; he’s most unaware

One alien scan, and it won’t care

*

Manmade blinds hide behind shifty kinds

And our self-served finds

Provide the shade

Shit-show parade

For the unearthed green one

Their will thy be done

And stopping them —

There is none

To inflict fear, ha, let’s be clear

Methods are sheer; they are already here

Suits shake slender hands each day

Unaware, our tarsal glands soak in

Their subtle demands

They’re in our minds, at home to stay

Our quest for knowledge crafted in machine sparks

Finger to button; press, push, power

Man’s thirst for more, evermore

Hears not the harks of the inner core

The slender one’s taste will never sour

In, they slip, through a crack in the door

*

Oh, Mr President, a tweaked press release

Orders from the real in-charge resident

What — isn’t it evident

We are all irrelevant

Man-brain, embalmed, Mr. P’s not freaked

He’s a willing co-pilot of the Green Air Police

State of affairs, stockholder shares

Surely, not mankind’s finest hour

Consider it, don’t even, you can’t fight the power

Repeat-you can’t fight the power

And I fear the selection of our next P-election

I pull out hair clumps

At the thought of the re-election

Chanting, “Make us great again”

Air fist pumps at rhymes with…

Shhh, I heard a thump and a bump

I must abort this projection- unhear my last rambling

Or at least pretend

“Make America Great Again” sounds delightfully delicious

But its master’s master is not our friend

My unfounded-founded internal rage

Internal rage on the precipice, yes, presage

For the machines, the freaking machines

Delude our minds, delude our minds

Like unapproved vaccines

Tech-savvy threads, inflamed heads

Hoped and hopped in self-made beds

Of nodding men with locs or dreads

Drop the mic — I’m not off my meds

Escape the ward, locked in the psyche

Spread the word to the unborn tike

The proof is in the galactic embeds

Alien nation takeover via an AI handover

Off-the-record lies, ground-walker spies

Ahem, excuse me for one sec

Deep breath in, long-winded sighs…

*

NO —

I simply cannot, will not revise

My dream, my vision

Dream state to real-world collision

Without rhyme or reason

High acts of treason — NOPE

How will I ever cope

Sip secret sauce, get hitched, elope

Slip and fall, upon total recall

Mayhap I will

Upon a year’s later reading

Of these words, I’ve written

None of which are half-smitten

Or, mayhap not

I won’t remember

Huh, I forgot —

Oh the burn, the flame

Each long-lost ember

Days, months, and years deleted

A failed blood clot

My lifeline repleted

Filled, replaced with robotic code

Wiped out, vanquished

No more North Mode

But —my fears, my greatest fears

Lie in newborn tears

Tomorrow’s child, our leaders; Cheers!

Or, perhaps we should cheer not

For tech-tuned tots

They are not our children, they belong to them

Awake, not sleep, absent — REM

Our time to come, mind stiffened, numb

Programmed by invader plots

Long slender hands fill in the dots…

The human concept affords remands

We’ll be taken down one thousand knots

*

As I sadly sit with folded hands

In closing out my rambling thoughts

Call me crazy, if you will

My pen and paper, now be still

An adage says what is sold

Often equals not what one buys

But will this even matter

Braindead, rot, we bought the lies

My dreamward attempts

Will not meet complies

Unknown aircraft circles our skies

Oh ground control to Major Tom

The machines are taking over

Come in, Tom, my mind —

It is slowly reducing to batter

And my rage, my rage

Is running out of time

Soon we will all be reduced

To data in a case-closed folder

Scully and Mulder —

The trail has gone colder

Slender hands, the green

Oiling the machine, and man —

Self-righteous, modern man

He thinks he knows it all

But our faces are fading

Our faces are fading

Faces are fading

Are fading

Fading…

This poem was inspired in part by a personal dream and the above song just happens to pair nicely!