Hi,
I'm looking for poems reflecting on the influences of technology on culture.
This is a tricky one. You might try looking for poems about "industry", or "technology" first. Then scan though the list to see if any have to do with its impact on our culture.
Les
Post Edited (04-22-04 13:55)
How about Jigsaw II by Louis Macneice
Property! Property! Let us extend
Soul and body without end:
A box to live in, with airs and graces,
A box on wheels that shows its paces,
A box that talks or that makes faces,
And curtains and fences as good as the neighbours'
To keep out the neighbours and keep us immured
Enjoying the cold canned fruit of our labours
In a sterilised cell, unshaved, insured.
Property! Property! When will it end
When will the poltergeist ascend
Out of the sewer with chopper and squib
To burn the mink and the baby's bib
And cut the tattling wire to town
And smash all the plastics, clowning and clouting
And stop all the boxes shouting and pouting
And wreck the house from the aerial down
And give these ingrown souls an outing?
or even The Unkown Citizen (on the basis that without technology they couldn't collect all the data for the comparisons etc)
The Unknown Citizen
He was found by the bureau of statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the greater community.
Except for the war till the day he retired
He worked in the factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to poetry were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health Card shows he was once in a hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A gramophone, a radio, a car, and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into public opinion are content
That he held the popular opinions for the time of year.
When there was peace, he was for peace; when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenists say was the right number for a parent of his generation,
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he Happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we certainly should have heard.
W.H. Auden
Ray Kurzweil Cybernetic Poet
[www.kurzweilcyberart.com] />
I Think I'll Crash
A poem written by Ray Kurzweil's Cybernetic Poet
after reading poems by Ray Kurzweil, Robert Frost and Wendy Dennis
I think I'll crash.
Just for myself with God
peace on a curious sound
for myself in my heart?
And life is weeping
From a bleeding heart
of boughs bending
such paths of them,
of boughs bending
such paths of breeze
knows we've been there
Ray Kurzweil
Leicky
Luddites and Luddism
Northwestern Poem
The Tintwistle Weavers Daughter
There was a weavers daughter born
When loaves were big and cheap
Work was forbid on a Monday
Tho work enough for keep
His daughter grew pretty and fine
On meat and bread he'd bring
And bloomed the human face divine
Her light sweet voice would sing
But your debts and taxes want pay'd
Coined of the poor and dead
Your Orders and council kill trade
And weavers cry for bread
So bent the daughter to her fate
From work she did not cower
She beam'd the yarn from Manchester
And dress'd the warp with flour
She beams the yarn from Manchester
And dresses warp with flour
The shuttle flies from morn til night
And rests at a late hour
From morn til night she cannot cease
Her life is nowt but toil
She has not time for love or sport
Her blooming flowers spoil
Still your debts and taxes want pay'd
Coined of the poor and dead
Your Orders and French wars hurt trade
And weavers cry out for bread
She bends no more to her poor lot
A life of nowt but toil
Enriching the mighty and great
While her own flowers spoil
She cries aloud her heros name
Her Sherwood hero Ludd
Will set a stop to wars and steam
And wages as they stood
Leiky
Here's one by Phil Ochs that looks at the impact of industrialization on unions and social consciousness.
joet
Links On The Chain
Come you ranks of labor, come you union core,
And see if you remember the struggles of before,
When you were standing helpless on the outside of the door
And you started building links on the Chain.
On the Chain, you started building links on the Chain.
When the police on the horses were waitin' on demand,
ridin' through the strike with the pistols in their hands,
Swingin' at the skulls of many a union man,
As you built one more link on the chain, on the chain,
As you built one more link on the chain.
Then the army of the fascists tried to put you on the run,
but the army of the union, they did what could be done,
Oh, the power of the factory was greater than the gun,
As you built one more link on the chain, on the chain,
As you built one more link on the chain.
And then in 1954, decisions finally made,
The black man was a-risin' fast and racin' from the shade,
And your union took no stand and your union was betrayed,
As you lost yourself a link on the chain, on the chain,
As you lost yourslef a link on the chain.
And then there came the boycotts and then the freedom rides,
And forgetting what you stood for, you tried to block the tide,
Oh, the automation bosses werre laughin' on the side,
As they watched you lose your link on the chain, on the chain,
As they watched you lose your link on the chain.
You know when they block your trucks boys, by layin' on the road,
All that they are doin' is all that you have showed,
That you gotta strike, you gotta fight to get what you are owed,
When you're building all your links on the chain, on the chain,
When you're building all your links on the chain.
Amd the man who tries to tell you that they'll take your job away,
He's the same man who was scabbin' hard just the other day,
And your union's not a union till he's thrown out of the way,
And he's chokin' on your links of the chain, of the chain,
And he's chokin' on your links of the chain.
For now the times are tellin' you the times are rollin' on,
And you're fighting for the same thing, the jobs that will be gone,
Now it's only fair to ask you boys, which side are you on?
As you're buildin' all your links on the chain, on the chain,
As you're buildin' all your links on the chain.
How about "William Brown"?
A nice young man was William Brown,
He worked for a wage in a northern town,
He worked from six 'til eight at night,
Turning a wheel from left to right.
The boss one day to William came
And said "Look here young what's-your-name,
We're not content with what you do,
So work a little harder or out you'll go"
So William turned and he made her run
Three times roun in the place of one.
He turned so hard he soon was made
The Lord High Turner of the trade.
William turned with the same sweet smile,
The goods he made grew such a pile
They filled the room and the room next door
And overflowed to the basement floor.
The nation heard the wondrous tale,
The news appeared in the Sketch and Mail.
The railways ran excurtions down
And all to see young William Brown.
But sad the sequel is to tell,
He turned out more than the boss could sell,
The market slumped and the price went down:
Seven more days and they sacked young Brown.
By Karl Dallas.
Joni Mitchell's song "Big Yellow Taxi":
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot SPOT
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don't know what you’ve got
‘Til it's gone
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
They took all the trees
And put them in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to seem 'em
Don't it always seem to go,
That you don't know what you’ve got
‘Til it’s gone
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
Hey farmer, farmer
Put away that DDT now
Give me spots on my apples
But LEAVE me the birds and the bees
Please!
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you’ve got
‘Til its gone
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
Late last night
I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi
Took away my old man
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you’ve got
‘Til it’s gone
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
I said
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you’ve got
‘Til it’s gone
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
They paved paradise
TO put up a parking lot
You could look for poems about people who are put out of work or forced into industrial drugery by technology:
JOHN HENRY, "I owe my soul to the company store," etc.
your poems are good they're so beautiful...that's all!!!
For a light-hearted story of new technology being tried and found wanting, there's 'Mulga Bill's Bicycle' by 'Banjo' Paterson, which was posted in General Discussion last year:
<[www.emule.com];
It was of course written about a hundred years ago.