Communication 110

Pete S Martinez – Communication Transcript
 

Danny,

do you remember the war games
we’d play in the heat of the day
down on your farm?
I’d use the haystacks and barn
as cover, you’d use the silo
as a look out post,
our rifles were forged from bracken and oak,
you were sergeant, I was corporal,
through the streams and fields we’d crawl,
we were fighting for freedom,

“all for one and one for all”
when we got tired we’d go home for tea
all missions completed successfully,
and all our prisoners of war set free,

Today we set up base
on the outer reaches of Saigon,
it’s so hot, ninety degrees and rising
I am trying to forget what I’ve seen
people with the same soul as me, dying
I crave anything to dull the pain,
days and nights fueled by
amphetamine, we’re all tied by a torment,
it’s so hard to explain,
resulting to anything to keep us sane
out here I am lost, this war is no game,
me, a stranger in a foreign land
my only cover, the next man,
all that I am, is designed to kill,
forgive me for the blood that I spill
forgive me for the lives I take
I hate the decisions I’m forced to make,
but I have no choice

Danny,
do you remember when
we’d pretend to play dead?
slumped lifeless in the fields on the farm,
do you remember when we said
“we’ll stay friends forever”
if it came to it we’d die for one another,
despite my reservations,
you kept your word,
today on patrol a single
gunshot was heard,
believed to be a sniper
no one knew, there was no time
to second guess
you fell forward, a single puncture
wound to the chest

I am writing this to let you know
I broke your fall,
it was painless and quick,
you felt nothing at all,
I am writing this so people realize
you were true to your word
in a war built on lies
your last breath was gone
before you even closed your eyes,
the enemy’s determination,
we can’t match it
I can’t see a way out of this
it’s far greater than
we ever could’ve known

Danny,
we won’t be coming home

Communication 109

An Earth Synthetic – A Transhumanist Agenda

1. Under The Firmament

life under the dome
now the sun has lost its reach
we incubate in artificial heat
we cannot breed, left
to stagnate, our race
once prevalent has long
since been erased,
all thoughts are chipped,
tracked, removed from
our minds, harvested
countless times inside
of the machine
there are no memories left,
they’ve been wiped clean,
testosterone,
is siphoned for fuel,
those that can’t produce
are taken and killed,
then fed into a colossal machine
that feeds and feeds,
the human form is no longer
recognized or required,
all emotions are hardwired,
those that breathe
are mechanized, controlled
by a central mainframe,
this intelligence has no conscience,
it can’t be led astray,
there’s no way out
it holds your DNA,
it’s under your skin,
there’s no sense in fighting,
the sooner you give in
the better you’ll feel – wait and see
your synthetic will mirror
you perfectly, it will know
who you are, and what you’ve seen
having been harvested countless times
inside of the machine,
it has no off switch,
no ability to dream,
dreams are redundant,
they can’t be recreated from source,
those ‘dreamers’ who resist
will be removed by force

no one saw it coming,
all but a chosen few,
the strategy was implemented
gradually, then systematically
followed through, step by step,
covert precision was used to build a
totalitarian prison,
leading to distrust and division,
human behavior was managed
through a series of algorithms,
families were displaced,
lovers were lost in the fight,
my wife, I couldn’t save her,
all the pieces of the
transhumanist agenda
were now complete,
it was all so very simple,
starting with a handheld
device that contained
and controlled our lives,
through repeated disinformation
they were able to divide and
reprogram nations,
we’re all to blame for our
carelessness, unaware that
technology was slowly
relocating our consciousness,
it was no longer sacred,
no longer ours,
it was collected and used
to instigate wars,
I fled as soon as I had the chance,
hours before the firmament
was cast, set and secured
in place, it was the only
way to escape, up through
the jet stream and passed
the outer regions, I was
alone, determined to fight
for a meaningful existence,
my heart and mind
my only resistance,
with both still intact
I boarded the escape pod
and never looked back

2. Relocation – The Isle Of Cheetah

it could have been days,
months,
weeks
before I woke from cryogenic sleep,
all this time in isolation
has left me weak,
with orbit reached,
the pods system disengages,
it performs healing
in three separate stages,
vital vitamins and minerals
are dispensed into my system,
after 12 hours my immunity
will fight any disease and infection,
to combat dehydration
fluid is fed through
a tube in my nose,
my nervous system
is stimulated by hundreds
of tiny little electrodes,
slowly,
now with the worst
behind me,
I look to the future free,
free from modern slavery,
free from a system that
doesn’t speak for me,
where human consciousness
pales into insignificance,
dying at the hands of
an artificial intelligence
that we cannot trust
or ever control,
I’m prepared to fight anything
to maintain my soul,
I buckle and brace
for the landing,
through the glass,
in the distance,
I see her,
the speck on the horizon
‘the isle of cheetah’,
it’s a place I’ve pictured
in my dreams,
it’s like nothing I’ve
ever seen

3. Landing

ten .. ten
nine .. nine
eight .. eight
seven .. seven
six .. six
five .. five
four .. four
three .. three
two .. two
one .. one

4. Transition

my feet sink in the soil
a cold, sterile breeze
signals it’s safe to breathe,
what stands before me?
hope in all its frailty,
ancient monuments
and monoliths
stand like rigid archetypes,
the echoes
of one thousand armies
having fallen on their sword,
it's a poignant reminder
of the truth I must reward,
I’ll work on this land
until my fingers bleed,
I’ll turn the soil and
hoe the weed,
damage my posture
just to keep my dignity,
through all this labour
what stands at the end?
maybe, someday I can love again,
there’s nothing as never-ending,
it’s the arc in the inevitable
the untruth in the fable
it will touch us only when
we’re able
to house it in our heart,
I’ll hold it dear, even though,
it might, one day, tear me apart,
the storms I’ve wept,
the oceans I’ve crawled from
have left me tired and worn
but when the seeds
have been sown
and a new life is born,
I can then finally rest my head,
knowing
there's nothing left to mourn

Communication 108

Julie

Julie never went to prom
she chose her dress
but never tried it on,
she’d keep her fears
scratched on her arm,
a constant reminder
of her self-harm,
for years she’s
kept it a secret,
if only she knew
I could help her treat it,
I know she’s scared
of intervention,
there’s been so many
times that I hoped she’d
mention, all the pain
she harbors deep inside,
but when I ask she denies,
insisting that
there’s nothing wrong,
I wish she wouldn’t
remain so strong,
there’s a bravery in honesty,
a spoken truth
I can’t define,
if only I could tell her
that everything will be fine,
three years have passed
since she gave up hope,
I found Julie hanging
from a rope,
she’d left a note
folded on her bed
“I’m sorry, I thought
I’d be better off dead’

 


 
  

Communication 107

Hit The Floor

hit the floor
narcoleptic
mask the pain,
anesthetic
locked in syndrome
catatonic
a repeat prescription
with three words on it
Mirtazapine
Quetiapine
Aripiprazole
I hate to say,
I know them well,
packed
and produced
designed to reduce
all the serpents
slivering
inside my head,
pacifying the beast
whilst keeping it fed,
somewhere
in between,
screams
my faulty gene,
each neurotransmitter
is starved
of dopamine
So how do I feel?
I just can’t tell
I use to be a person
that I knew well,
but since my ‘shrink’
upped my dose
I’ve misplaced the traits
I loved most

Communication 106

back in class

where are you now?
I can’t let my memories go
and when I think I have
they come punching back
on the attack,
a vicious blow from the past
knocks me on my arse,
and when I look up
I’m back in class – age 15
I had no concerns
of what could have been,
I was yet to carve my place
in a world that appeared
so easy to conquer, oh
but little did I know that
you rarely reap what you sow,
you’re never close to
the perfect fiction you’ve written,

and

when the wolves come calling
for the pound of flesh
they’ve continually bitten,
you wonder how the hell
you can carry on,
you didn’t realise that
life could feel so bloody long,
and there is no place to grieve
and there is no way to leave,
the conquest
was simply make-believe,
we were so young
with so many dreams,
we couldn’t fit them
all in our head
but now all those dreams
are dead

where are you now?

Communication 105

origins of our downfall 

beneath the wreckage
I am here
down amongst the fabric
I disappear,
deep below the Atlantic
I place my fear
never to be woken again,
the passing tides above me
have broken my oaring free
10.000 miles below
I seek sanctuary,
the shape I hold
has been battered
beyond degree,
my body
riddled with
acute anxiety

the darkest days
are far above,
looming legions
of a far greater disease
wait silently,
I can’t pinpoint its
exact location,
or its method of
application,
a scratch on the skin
during vaccination,
or transmitted by air
through the slightest
sneeze, the origins of
our downfall
is beggars belief 

Communication 104

The Other Side Of Awake

I rise come the morning light
rewiring and consolidation
has taken place
on the other side of awake,
I’m sparked up, stoked
and set to deal with all
that enters my head,
poised like a predator
to all the problems
that haven’t happened yet,
these days aren’t made
for wasting, let go of youth
it isn’t worth chasing,
these coming years,
you’ll slowly season,
closer to death for no
real reason, we simply
wear out, lose ourselves
and shed the skin
we no longer belong in