The Underdog Writers' Corner is a space to publish creative work. We do not edit or change submissions, they are published just as the writer intended.
This is just the beginning.
The beginning; of the end.
The start of the simulation,
for which there is no mend.
no me no you no us
Pixels on a screen
waves in the air
‘connecting’ me to you
but are you even there?
Is a face on the screen
A voice in my head.
Eyes, all pixelated,
In this fortress of dread.
The touch of a lady
This longing for fear
No more trepidation
But oh the things you can do
When you adopt this new tool:
“I think I’ll pass”.
Don’t be a fool!
Zoom through a planetary spiderweb.
Zoom on through cyberspace;
through hills, brooks, and groves.
They do not exist:
soon, they too shall dissolve
Like our very own selves,
we perish and burn.
But better to die,
than it is to yearn.
My eyes are dim, I cannot see,
I have not brought my specs with me!
I have not brought my specs with me!
Poor internet connection
Run network diagnostics
A prison of glass.
A sentry of sound.
A wall of electricity.
Not a soul to be found.
There is no escaping
This online bubble
Floating away into nothingness
The outside world just a stone’s throw away.
The world of the screen;
a magic act like no other.
We’re at the end of the show
So goodbye for now brother
‘til we meet again
What if I learned love wrong?
What if this planet –
where so many hearts are similar
where so many faces are the same –
is moving too hastily?
What if there was nothing but time
to be ourselves and nothing more,
to find beauty in the stillness
and the soft lull of the night
When I meet others like me
I recognise the longing,
the memory of ash on their faces
I miss the energy,
the feeling of hot sun on the skin
I miss the girls who held stars in their chests
their every word dripping moonlight,
the boys that were born from fire
with voices that lit up the room
Too many stories and faces and people
that I will never know
and never love
Reduced to nothingness
as we are seen and not heard
listened to but not understood
I tell myself I am used to being lonely –
but to forever be a stranger,
to be lost in this technological abyss
of switched off cameras
of muted microphones
is a strange and tantalising grief
The future is here.
Who will believe my verse in times to come,
If my windows view were planets and stars,
Where the horizon is only a figment of the imagination,
And limits expand to infinity
Breaking the atmosphere
It’s important to know your crew members.
Which is hard when you can’t escape the white bubble cage;
Fused with your skin like a turtle in his shell – you don’t exist without it.
But it connects you to thousands more;
Within protected, airlocked homes;
Lazy yet filled with longing;
Orbiting in a web of flickering lights.
In space everyone is mute.
If you focus your eyes gently, and peer through the helmet screens,
You can see lips – Moving –
Forming alien shapes,
Perhaps in an alien tongue,
Yet I hear nothing.
All my life I’ve been taught that words are rocket ships;
Launching into space with so much power.
But what use are rockets when they take away your fuel?
Every now and then, we pass by foreign planets,
Patterned with storms of indifference and swirling gas,
Enveloped by magnificent rings barely held together by obligation.
If we are lucky enough, we get to venture and visit.
I watch my crew members break out into smaller groups,
And float down onto different planets,
Eager to explore,
Nervous about the unknown.
But just as we begin to orientate ourselves,
And the planet begins to feel familiar,
We are called back.
I gaze among my crew members before leaving,
Wondering whether they will remember this like I will.
Suddenly, the planets fade to faces on a screen,
And gravity pulls the weight of the world back onto my shoulders,
My tutorial is over.
A wave of white noise erupts,
And “Thank you!” they say.
The faces blink out of existence like stars in the night sky,
All that is left is a blank screen.
The future has never felt so lonely.