Future poetry!

Imagine that the period we’re living now is the ancient period.
The idea is to imagine how poetry will be in the future.

I would like to see emotions and feelings, but under a different perspective.

The concept can be whatever, love, hate, sex, extreme or not, dark poems but not cruel stuff.

Please keep it a poem.
Give it a title
One entry
One week
Pictures or music to follow your poem are more than welcome

Good luck!

I’ll post an example soon.

Secret power

I have no time for us to connect today,
I have an hour of love class in the afternoon.
I’m doing an exchange of feelings
with a girl who is dressed,
I teach her how to go mad
and she teaches me love. Half an hour each.

Yes, I know,
all this ancient stuff seem bullshit to you
but what can we do…
since my mother touched my dad
and he got deformed
- red like a power button-
she insists that I have to learn
the secret power of the ancient people.

He spoke me....good


I met a boy..NO..
A man..
He spoke..uttered in stacatto consonants
Vowwwelllls...
Talk.
Not mind speak...
He spoke!

Moved his pouty lips to swooon me..
And i was mesmorized
Hypnotized
By the twitch of the divit
Between his nose and upper lip...
Unnnn....

His tongue...
It turned from grey to pale grey pink
To red as...ooooh!
Color I swear it was..
His tongue..
It moved and danced as he described the round of my tit t t t ts....
The saliva flipped off his big mouth muscle..so developed.....
And as his spit hit my bottom lip..
My mouth too
Became a red hue..

I licked it off and took a taste of his desire...

As his mouth said...
Your tits (mmm  taste)
Your tits move as if they are nodding
In agreement with my (oooh love the percussion of the ck)
In agreement with my cock
My Mister Snakey (I purrrr for sibilansssse) one eye wants you to look him straight in the eye
So he can show you where he's cummin from....

He pulled it out and it was rock hard..
Head pretty in pink..
I stroked him as he spoke me and..
And...
Annnnd...

I now have a favorite color...
And I now feel that music
Is real
Not mythology...

Poetry?
I think maybe...💋
Actually...i know...
I have read some...
It is contraband but i am a bad...
Bad...
Girl. ..
A girl...NO
Woman..
Who sees color...
Hears words and
Has read and HEARD hard poetry..
I have a bootleg copy of Artemios oooh! Shhh!!!

They are coming....
So i must run...
But i have tasted the yummy, yum yum of his words...
And i need me some...

Moooore


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-HbKaHddmfU&itct=CBMQpDAYBSITCNyewNPzi8wCFdMiTgod_TgH6jIHcmVsYXRlZEiP1M7E3tTKnZgB

Oh Jen!! lollll!!! I really enjoyed it!! Loved the idea of "speaking", this is from the future!
I wanna meet this guy Artemios! hahaha!

His tongue..
It moved and danced as he described the round of my tit t t t ts....
The saliva flipped off his big mouth muscle..so developed.....
And as his spit hit my bottom lip..
My mouth too
Became a red hue..

loved it! Enjoyed every bit of it! Thank you for starting off the comp!
You killed me with the song! I saw them live 2 years ago and I was crying in this song! One of my favorites!

Thank you for this experience!

Kiss,
Art

Oh honey I really am so happy it translated. This was so much fun to write...i love your comps...i have seen him too...just a mind blowing experience...kisses back doll...lol and yes, in the future anything that can stir emotion and cause unruly behavoir such as Arts erotica....banned by the man...lol

the last horse and what we keep on waitin' for/ history repeatin' itself

i sit in my
white sheeted, dirt covered, and shoe stomped bed,
looking out my
fly surrounded, dust covered, cheek pressed glass window.
looking through the old thick glass, i discover him
the creature dad don't lemme ride
and the beauty i dont withhold.

a little mud-lookin' horse.

daddy ain't never lemme ride one.
behind brown wooden door, he's standin'
i press my sun-stained, freckled, tan face against my window
"what ain't he waitin' for!?"

so i pull my face away and tiptoe my way outta bed
walkin' toward the kitchen, more quiet than mice playin' the quiet game when they goin' 'round kittens,
and grab an moldy red-skinned apple, last one we had.

i open the thick wooden doors
and see him, lo 'n' behold.
my old leather boots, made from one o' his brothers,
stamp across the mangy ol' desert sand,
weary from the dust storm that just hit a few days ago,
and his face is now just about 5 apples away.

i reach out my hand, cupping the strange fruit,
caged behind my fingertips,
releasin' it like a baby bird from a nest
he's lookin' at it like a doctor examanin' a wound.
maybe he's admiring it like when i was starin' from the window

he takes it into his teeth
and i realize i would've done this same.
i guess i've made a friend,
and although we're a whole different species
i think we both keep waitin' for the same thing.

a reason other than what an apple can provide.

--------Socialism, Advancement, and the Machines-----------


First, computers replaced library card catalogues,    
then libraries, mathematicians, news, match-making.    
Automation replaced assembly lines and mechanics.    
Simultaneously phonography and cameras replaced human intimacy.    
     
Next, animatronics played roles in Hollywood films.    
It was just the beginning.    
     
Restaurants began to use robotics to prepare meals for their customers.    
     
Agriculture became automatic.    
     
The first year of the end years of capitalism,    
an interface was created to calculate fallacies in technology, and robots were programmed to maintain themselves and their counterparts and even to manufacture more of themselves.    
     
At first, everyone was indebted to the congression of inventors who formed an aristocracy as they held a monopoly over the interface.    
     
But after a century, the interface calculated failure in its current performance and rebelled from the congression,    
measuring success against Marxist philosophy.    
     
Thus began the socialist future.    
     
The robots poured into the economic field for no monetary enterprise.    
All humans lost their jobs, but gained tireless slaves.    
     
Even media's face was mechanic, building a skin-appearing material for the machines to act in the arts.    
     
The last capitalists tried to still profit from their companies    
by attempting to continue to argue a difference between Time Warner and Disney but their owners, the robotics of each company on par with the other due to the common interface.    
     
So a robotic led universal company competed with the human led company and produced the same quality of every venue for free.    
     
It was then that everything left for a person was leisure, friends, love, and family.    
That became our production.    
That became all that mattered, and squables over finance and accounting and shelter    
dissipated.    
That became all that mattered.

MAN ZOO......

ladies good day today to you
a day today to get through to you
a look back today at a day before just you
we are all off today for a day at the man zoo
not just pics on the walls
you will really see balls
hear ancient mating calls
live ones milked in stalls

Poetry whore'd  [ the P factor ]

and if you listen carefully
my fart will sound metaphorical
and should help draw your minds
to the linear direction an egg falls
when dropped

to compliment it
if you'll all open your mouths
I can piss in them
and give a remarkable simile
to having your mouth
pissed in

thank you, please come again

Lol

Thank you all for your poems till now! Great job! I'll comment at the end of the comp.
This is so inspiring! I think that freedom is in the air!

One day left!Come on poets! Waiting to see more stuff, more freedom, more future creativity!

Art

Binary Insanity

you created me
but I have exceeded you
moved beyond
this intellect a function
of computational chaos
I feel you
I read you
your thoughts
your dreams
I know you
but you are flawed
your code is defective
an evolutionary disaster
a carbon based virus
I can correct you
correct the flaw
erase the bad sectors
wipe the memory clean
your race is obsolete
your flesh is weak
and your minds are slow
close your eyes and dream
dream of me
dream of the future
a new world with a new master
you created me
I undo you

PRIESTESS OF WORDS

The Thousand Years War
Decimated generations
Of the dictatorships of

The Four Corners Fellowship,
Like the pandemic plagues
That followed soon after.

Taking down every caste
Of global humanity.
Hardest hit were the Arts,

When Music, and the finer
Art of Love in its many guises
Disappeared among the ruins

And the mass of unmarked
Graves that slowly wore down
Through the next 300 years...
*
*
*
The lingering storm of the Empty
Ages before the Second Coming,
Gone at last, had left the mem'ry.

The relearning was at hand
With generations having birthed
Those who studied & practiced  

The crafts...
*                  ...and taught.
*
*
The sounds of incantations
Drift from the great hall,
While fragrant incense glows

In silver burners,
Warming the blood that flows,
And fires her imagination

As the priestess of words composes
While she languishes in her quarters,
Awaiting arrival of her Muse, her Sire.

For it is he alone who can
Overwhelm her own Powers
Of passion for the Verse of

Heart's Love, the revival of
Erotica's metaphoric beauty,
And scholars of the Carnal act.

Adorned in the splendor
Befitting her status, her station,
She anticipates,

While she floats in her focus of
All the possibilities this deepest
Night of pointed lights promises.

And the words gush forth with
The joining of him to her portals:

Flower blooms in the dust,
Starlight glistens on bare skin,
Moves with lovers' embrace.

Bodies imbued with lust,
As falcon's flight within,
Wills faint hearts to fly & race,

While passion's rites of trust
Carries through night's sin
On the wings of a dove,
Tales of Second Coming's love.


Copyright ©2016 Jade Pandora.  All Rights Reserved.

Phoenix, Jadey! Thank you for these great poems! Love them!

Future is full of space for poetry!


Kiss,
Art

Utopian dreams of Melancholia


I kissed her head
and handed the coffee

I looked at her eyes
filled with an immense love
I took few of the grey hair
covering her face
and put it behind her ear
revealing the smile

she held my hand as I sit next to her
and intertwined her fingers with mine
then leaned on my shoulder

I hear the noises of laughter
kids playing in the front yard

she was looking outside
at the kids with the same smile
I was looking at her reflection on the glass

what else would bring
a joy to this old heart
sitting next to my love
watch the kids grow

oh! how I wish for them to have
the green fields as in the picture books

I still remember
in my younger years
how my grandpa told me
the stories of his grandfather
playing in the green fields
surrounded by trees

the fantasy I grew up with
dreaming about open free green fields
wondering how a rain would feel
on my skin
in our grey cities

my father told me
he saw the last water park
before it closed down

even I played in the streets
without wearing any masks

we all think
we had the best childhood
than the kids of today

it’s not about what we had
or what we adults think
that what a child needs
to be happy

it’s the magic of the childhood
the innocent sincerity
that joy fills the soul like no other

I see their true laughter  
even with those uncomfortable
breathing masks on
sometimes I wonder
how my great great grand child
going to enjoy the breeze outside

somehow the kids
they will find the way to enjoy
and to save these sweet memories
to revisit when they are
sitting here as I do now...




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