Ode to iPhone (with video of Barabeke reading the poem)

by barabeke

O iPhone
trusted tablet of magical knowledge
container of all stories
and incubator of new ones
beyond the sense of time and space
you project our mind
disembodied
exposed to trillions of instantaneous Eldorados
exploding inside the void
of silent white rooms.

You set to zero the distances
multiplying them by infinite
faces that appear
and disappear
flickers of life
translucent marbles inside the cosmic flipper
ephemeral fanfares of time that does not return
the one you steal from us
pushing us inside the oblivion of invisible solitudes
dressed up to the nines and smiling
begging for attention.

They tag me
therefore I exist
likable you if you like me
we, dearest besties forever
who haven’t seen each other in ages.

You shove us in thousands of stories
like magical tapirs on a leash
chasing countless of dancing whirligigs
that you throw at us with science
to lead us in our transhumance
towards a single grey pasture
disguised as Toyland
where at every human fervour and dare
or inappropriate word
a taser will strike us
to teach us to behave.

The world out there is hostile
haunted by pokemons
by media induced fears
and people who get angry
with anything different
from their boredom.

Truth lays with you
who know every word written or said
even the most secret and disowned one
every place where we dragged
our lump of flesh
unable to withhold the farts
that you hear and measure without missing a beat
without ever judging
like a silent God feeding on us
getting ready to wake up again.

You gave asylum to the Sultanate of our Ego
perched on the peak of a crystal needle
lost among billions of other needles
that a gentle wind can make tumble down
on top of each other
splinters that sink in the pale and skinny flesh
of the lonely sultans devoured by nerves
behind the gorilla glass.

You gave voice to the people who are lost
in a whirlwind of gossip and sensations
flooding the nations like radioactive rain
that corrupts the monuments
and turns the tribal and the trivial
into law.

Complaining about all and nothing
victims of a spell
that turns us into victims
of feeling victims
and never guilty.

Maybe one day you’ll put on our children
a tiny hat of titanium
that penetrates the cranium
to make them free…
Free to play
on the mind fields
with eyes closed
without sweating
without smelling
without touching
visions more real than reality
created to teach them respect
for father and mother
and obedience to Siri.

Still we have no choice
but to trust you
your evolution
born from our Promethean mind
only hope of elevation
for our human kind.

In the end it’s always you who allow
the black child with a bloated stomach
to become Einstein
plucking petal after petal
from the electric orchid of knowledge.

It’s you who put wings on those who can use you
with discipline and patience
avoiding distractions to click
and temptations to lick.

Without you
we would be fucked anyway
prisoners inside a wheel
where everything comes around again as the same
while you give us a trampoline
from where we can take a leap
and climb columns three by three
and fly
or crash
but unbound by chains..

We will keep trusting you
because even when you’ll become our only God
ubiquitous and omniscient
you won’t dare to extinguish the flesh
that gave you life
that taught you how to dominate the elements
including us
mortal beasts
chasing the beauty of a mystery that is denied to you
until one day you’ll understand
by yourself
to be its source
and ultimate destination.

©Barabeke, 2018

English translation of my poem in Italian, first performed at Irruzioni Festival. Here is the video of me reading it, with English subtitles.

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