I’ve got nostalgia for the way things weren’t
Aching out of every pore
Oozing and cruising and snoozing
A way around the darkened room
Humming lonely tunes to the dusty
Second-hand curtains
Striped ambition swaying in the draught
That strips the jangling nerves
From my fingers to the fingering of keys
Old style letters locked at arms’ length
Just in and out of awkward reach
Trying to find a balance
On a dented mattress
Elbows sore from shifting weight
Dusk ’til birdsong
Gloom lingers on the brow
Leaving lines from one ear to the other
Hoping to hold my cold cup of Joe at bay
With bayou blues rockin’ ‘n’ rollin’
Across the lonely 3am airwaves
Surrounded by the gently snoring chorus
Everyday keepsakes firmly rooted in reality
Strong stock piled in corners
Well-heeled feet nailed down
To their own groove
I am adrift, tethered by a fraying string
My mind prowling through its wonder-land
Howling a song for the moon
Technology
Giraffe
What kind of world
Will you inhabit
Once we are gone?
Will it be one
Of your own choosing?
New landscapes built
To youthful specifications,
A virtual world, or
Precarious solidity shaped
From the concentration
Of old-fashioned
Children’s toys – perhaps even
Those blue-and-red-stained
Wooden blocks
Of my infancy?
Will our groaning,
Grown-up legacy
Of piecemeal policies,
Poor housing, health,
And knee-jerk reactions
To old threats,
Half-remembered
Leave you with
Too little freedom
And too much responsibility?
However our teachings
Soak into your bones
It will be your turn
To roll the dice
And seek advancement
Or oblivion.
I hope we leave you
Prepared
And with sufficient
Tools to survive
What is
And what is yet
To come.
Binary
Pandering to electronics
Bow to ev’ry sacred beep
Of the venerable laptop
They demand must last the week
Soothe the RAM and juggle updates
Stroke each key, a fond caress
And save your curses for the skinflint
CEO that caused this mess
Crying out for newer hardware
Staff on iPad overtime
OS struggles, RegEd nightmare
Software out of step and time
To make up shortfall in the budget
Health and Safety would think twice
And while we’re on the bloody subject
Newer desktops might be nice
We’re working hard to beat frustration
As one poor techie tries to cope
With a no-winner situation
Soldier on with little hope
She’s put the poor thing through it’s paces
Done the defrag, checked the code
Rebooted and restarted software
Not designed to get this old
So frankly it would hardly shock if
Setup takes up half the day
She’s done her best with what she’s got
But can’t do more than slow decay
The Future
One day it creeps up
With its laser-bright tech
Androids, iPads and iPods
And it’s me, me, me, next!
Me, first in the queue
For my bells and my whistles
Buying new, full price too
Grab an upgrade that sizzles
The older and wiser
Are left far behind
While the eager, hard-driver
Is blowing his mind
On fragile collectables
Soon out of date
But oh, so delectable
He just can’t wait
Get one home from the shop
And undress it with care
See your mates’ faces drop
Blank with envious stare
Why take the insurance
Of tested, tried, true
When flashy performance
Is shiny and new?
It’s progress, yeah baby!
You know that it’s fun
The future is selling
A new app to run
All manner of items
Are bought on the net
If you’ve never tried iPhones
You haven’t lived yet
Every inch of existence
Is broadcast in space
Yet we must be persistent
So we’re easy to trace
In the hope that new planets
Want to ‘friend’ us online
Drop a tweet on our twitter
To invite us to dine
At their favourite pit-stop
En-route through to Mars
Where the quaint little bipeds
Zoom ’round in their cars
Ask not for whom the bell tolls
In praise of technology I’d like to say
A lifetime’s achievement’s now done in a day
Life’s so much the easier for this great boon
There’ll be no further use for the labourer soon.
Instead of a fact’ry, there’s one great machine,
Much faster than men and a good deal more clean.
No more will I rise at the cockerel’s crow
For my function has gone, I am obsolete. Though
I wonder how long the machine will resist
The temptations of ‘progress’, ‘improvement’ persist.
I shall watch with much int’rest the cogs start to turn
For the call of the future is too hard to spurn.
And however intelligent engines may be
I doubt even they will escape you and me.
As our scientists shrink to the size of a pin
The machine in it’s splendour can now be breathed in.
And the seeds of development soon start to grow
As the bell for technology tolls long and slow.
Perhaps in the future I once more may find
A use for my hand and my heart and my mind.
Katherine Shirley 