UPDATE (May 2012): I wrote this a while ago, and it’s not very good. I’m rewriting it/writing a new one currently, as it attracts quite a few hits, so there will be a much improved version on here soon.
rattling machinery snares
like robotic calypso
for the digital age
and the swallowing
wumps of tireless compassionless
that move piston limbs
shake warehouse walls
lift souls in rhythm
and strike terror into the grey-headed.
Tribal drum music composed thus:
from ingredients, briefly
technology. And funk.
And liberal doses of ecstasy and punk
Manufactured in smoggy air
in closed down London town
or on the crumbling concrete streets
of Berlin and Detroit.
Techno emanates and resonates
multiplying and stultifying
with the never-ending soul-rending
tuneless rhythm of life.
Another first draft, just knocked this up just now, using themes from a previous poem I wrote a while back. As it’s about music, and that music is rhythm-driven techno, I want to try and convey a strong sense of rhythm (although not necessarily regular rhythm) in the poem. Don’t think I have achieved this yet. Also I want it to roll on steadily like techno music, so the stanzas have to progress smoothly and rhythmically too.
Criticism, suggestions, praise, and even just recognition that you have read the piece is appreciated 🙂