Tipping Points - Current Version
Mankind has reached a point in time
where we must choose before that choice
is forced upon us. Few rejoice
because the spectral pantomime
is faced with closure, cannot mime
a role with sense, nor find a voice
authentic underneath its grime.
Democracy has called the tune
since communistic threats appeared.
These, proving bankrupt though first feared -
despite the missions to the moon -
are memory. Then silver spoon
resumed brash reign too highly geared
to cope with chaos which could soon
sweep system rash, crashbranches prune
which sturdy seemed - soon to be sheared.
Fee enterprise has engineered
excesses while the baby boom
puts pressure on retirement boon
though side-effects were once revered.
Restrictions? - Democratic doom.
Another paradigm's begun â€"
the Internet through peer to peer,
chiped 'end to end' will shipwreck steer
a universe which soon may stun
vested interests more than gun
or arms race as ambitions clear
oligarchies engineer.
It seems dreams' seams split one by one:
Social unrest, confusion, here,
there earthquakes, famine. Cracks appear
inevitable, Time trap sprung.
Man's machine is out of gear,
Economies unbalanced - fear
rampant that our race is run.
Who preaches 'tipping points' as seer
is spurned though 'civilized' veneer
is crackled - tackled not the queer
collateral damage far and near
which signal very loud and clear:
World warming warning, fishless trawls,
sea levels rise, man's leeway falls.
for initial version, see poem Dirt Sweeper is Time
(3 November 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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