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Soapbox Poetics

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Into itself, beyond vast darkness, remote lights beckon our tomorrow.






Into a new dark age
we go, marching,
careening headlong


[of soapbox poetry
there is no want
for many a voice
loudly rail and rant]


the terrain of our
condition and that
of our experience
has changed over
year upon year of
progress that has brought
us closer to the edge
of a generation that
lives on the horizon




peering further on




to challenges invisible
to our yet untrained minds


so a new era begins
pioneering unexplored
vastnesses and
before unrecognised

while on the remotest reaches
bright lights we have yet

to define and harness
to our whetted appetite
for tomorrows





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