Tic Tickety Toc, Dang Technology Talk – A Chant Royal

Emperors and Chick, Snow Hill Island Emperor Penguin Rookery, An


Been sittin here thinkin’ bout how penguins be co-creatin’
the heat keeps them all alive. Theys be a unit o’ Emperor types
generatin’ what they need ‘n want, jus’ like us! Hell, just one of them makin’
one itty bitty move t’ the right and you see a waaave o’ black’n white
spreadin’ every direction so’s the big huddle stay tight ‘n the fur
o’ one be touching the fur of another, so’s all them male incubator
types stay warm. Them Emporers is all helpin’ themself AND one self to BE.
Seems’ like that stayin’ alive, livin’ a better dream, that’s what technology
be bringing to the human one and the sum. Whoooeee, if it ain’t opened the block
we done experienced cause we not even knowin’ how we connected like crazy.
Tic tickety toc, dang technology talk

It be a pow’rful thing, seeing how these teeny-weeny letters I be puttin’
on my flickerin’ screen be all connectin’ my thought’s emotin’ so it take flight
from me, t’ touch some zillions of hotspots ‘long some zippy times a million
path o’ connection I can’t even fathom. See how what I type in Boston spark a fight
in Bali, desire in Croatia, $$ in Zambia, or a child’s heaven or hell in Darfur?
Let me tell you, that there, that BE power.
Seems t’ me this be the first petal on my manly-word mandala that I be rightly
inspired to check my relatin’ self on, and be clearin’ out whatever all concept-y
crap I got smeared makin’ screwy connect-shun between me ‘n all whateva’ block
in’ or negatin’ my thought-creatin’ relatin’-emotion-makin’ behavior-bakin’ currency.
Tic tickety toc, dang technology talk

So’s I figure I jus’ spiff up my soul-bit-to-byte plug-in the same way I been
cleanin’ up all my self-to-me-stuff I always be findin’ in the place I go at night.
Whatever I dream – a monster slime-in’ my computer, a road, or a rat – I be wakin’
up n’ takin’ it on stage. I’s stand at the mirror t’ clean those dream-bits in the light
by sayin’ ‘I am monster’s slime’ like I be all Shake-speary. Me-as-slime clowns fer
the mirror audience, I ooze my mouth all over my face ‘n slouch like my firmer
self gone ‘n slime took over n’ started coatin’ the mirror. Then in one heart-beaty
second I got me the add-jecu-tives I feel tell slime, so’s I say it for every
body in the mirror, ‘I am slime. I be messy. I be no-form. I be the schlock
smearin’ up the mirror.’ Then I sits down t’ see where or what I just describe to me.
Tic tickety toc, dang technology talks

Usually it don’t take but a minute ‘fore I know what that messy, no-form, smearin’
my view dream-bit be sim-bowl-izing for what I got goin’ on now. It might
be some stitch-uation or how I’m feeling about somethin’ that’s botherin’
me but I ain’t touched it with a 10-foot pole ’cause it be too heavy or too slight
an’ I ain’t got no idea what to do with it no-how. Let’s just say THIS slime be infer-
rin’ somethin’ ’bout how I be twistin’ on how techno-possibility be all mur-
ky, ‘n I be worryin’ how if I be so unable to see my words thrown all technology
then what gonna happen when some brilliant nutcases be manipulatin’ crazy
shit from here to Can-ya with the 186 words I wrote ’bout a loud knock
I might or might not a’ heard at O’Dark thirty?
Tic tickety toc, dang technology talks

Then I get t’ the mirror again and say ‘Slime, there something you wanna be tellin’
this here dreamer ’bout why you came t’ visit? Then I be slime, all blight
and ooze ‘n just start talkin’ – you’d be ah-mazed at the stuff a talkin’
bit o’ muck will say when it get the mic. Cool thing is you’d been all tight,
n’ close-eyed ’cause it be easier to infuriate ’bout how dronin’ chilren of another
temple is your country doin’ ghastly techno shit, then t’ get clear on your
own way of relatin’ to somethin’ givin’ you pow’r to hurt somethin’ you never see.
The thing is you the dreamer! You the one creatin’ the conversation with the mucky
n’ lucky parts generatin’ inside you to create yo’ outside. In that there talk
with techno-slime,I made a deal – it slide to the side, I’ll git on MY dream and clarify.
Tic tickety toc, dang technology talks

Now back to the Emperors ‘n all that yellow-fur-fat neck wavin’ in unity.
That ain’t magic, that be their biology dictatin’ they want warmth ‘n babies.
We humans, we got technology, and we be the biology. It be imagination’s stock
create the outcome’s flavor ‘n know this:  there’s a whole lot o’ hot-stock in you ‘n me.
Tic tickety toc, dang technology talks

© Lori Fleming, 2014



3 thoughts on “Tic Tickety Toc, Dang Technology Talk – A Chant Royal

  1. Bridge2Vision Post author

    A quick note: This piece was written a few months ago, before I’d really gotten the hang of writing chants with fewer words. I went ahead and recorded it because there is one poet out there who is also having a poetic conversation around technology – and I thought it was interesting the varied paths some of us are on around the same topic.

    For me, technology and my interaction, fear and intention with it, is but one petal on a mandala-full of mega-expansion-topics I’d like to affect change around. I could fill the petals on that mandala graphic many times over. My desire is to explore my personal relationship to each topic shown. I accomplish that most often by writing about metaphors discovered through my dream work. My vision is to heal the part of me that generates each topic’s out-of-balance-reflection I encounter out there in the world.

  2. Brendan

    OK, so there’s biology — the sufficient technology produced when penguins instinctively edge close to each other to warm the tribe. And then there’s technology, a shotgun blast of solutions whose affect and effect is so unknown to us yet that we’re more like Mickey the Mouse as Sorcerer’s Apprentice, dangerous because we know so much about so little. And how to learn the right use, the right amplitude and magnitude in which to employ this technology? When even writing on a computer is a dangerous act. I see the poem urging us to breathe deep, take stop, have a better initiated sense of the world before trying to fix it with out tools.I read how a British general doomed his army to quick death in the Second Battle of the Somme because he had no imagination of how the enemy would react to the massive artillery attack that preceded the assault. (They simply took their machine guns down into the deep elaborate trenches they had dug and waited out the Shock and Awe.) So when the British soldiers were ordered to attack, they walked uncomprehending into a river of machine gun fire. 65 thousand casualties in one day. Lack of imagination about what kind of fire we’re playing with will surely kill us; and reflection takes time, is beneath the flying moment. The mandala you show at the end is an apt way to describe the way you explode a theme in all directions. Readers can only piece it as they can. I’m sue I missed a ton.

    1. Bridge2Vision Post author

      You got it better than anybody should Brendan, considering how much I have going on in this one. I hadn’t thought of the mandala in the way you describe – and I like the power you give it – though the power sounds a bit messy. Oddly, like I’m the mechanism the energy goes through to explode the theme… Breathing deep, actually feeling for my feet as I do it, is the most effective tool I’ve found for holding myself steady in the middle of the mandala.


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