Alt Text:
dandelion seeds' wishes are blown, rising and floating away from the dandelion plant.
Backstory:
A post on Instagram by qwertpoetry inspired me to write and submit my poem, "Race Against Sun", to greenhivestudio's competition. A fifth place honorable mention meant a lot as there were only meant to be three winners in total. The prompt challenge was to write about technology. I envisioned a near futuristic world where survivors compete alongside their robotic buddies for precious resources to keep their country running. The competitors are judged by a panel of artificially intelligent robots on whether or not they can find an adequate solution to build a greenhouse that can withstand the ever increasing temperatures around the world.
Global climate change and diversity are the two topics I attempted to incorporate into the cascading and alternative poetry forms I used. Nia's tricolor patches of skin were inspired by the beautiful colors on our rescue dog, Ava. I chose 'black plum afro' for Nia's hair to represent Africa (given I am South African born) and the purple of plum as it is symbolic of hope and royalty. I chose red hair and a gentle character for Milo (the name an acronym for: Memories Include Loved Ones) to counter old stereotypes. "We are what we build on ourselves", speaks directly to the power that labels and the words we use to define ourselves can give, acting either as a strength or becoming like a virus focused on our weaknesses.
The sunflower on the drone symbolizes not only the removal of radiation from soil and recovery of landscapes ravaged by climate change, but also of rebellion against an imposing force, which in this poem is a scorching sun. I believe that in our race against the elements it will be the tools used and actions taken to work with one another as well as for one another that will provide the proper soil in which future generations may fruitfully grow.
The Game
Attention competitors in this year’s Race Against Sun!
You, the chosen few, will receive rare resources to build a greenhouse
One winner will secure the well-being of their country’s future.
Your A.I., Automaton Inspectors, regret to inform: a greed inducing virus corrupted our code
Will you create a self-sustainable greenhouse without a panel to declare a winner?
Attention competitors in this year’s Race Against Sun!
You fight for the sake of your country, yourself, and your robotic companion’s survival
Desperate survivors, unable to participate in the race, wish to derail you for one reason
You, the chosen few, will receive rare resources to build a greenhouse
May the best couple win the grand prize of life itself
Grow a virtual village, share your knowledge, but guard your trust
One winner will secure the well-being of their country’s future.
The Gamers
“Nia? The virus. I can…it’s infecting me too. I want-I want money!”
Currency symbols rotate in the center of Milo’s super-black iris until Nia taps him on the head,
“You’re a five-Gen, a fifty-year-old cyborg cyclops, I know you can beat a little virus.”
“Yes, but how do I win money? How do I help you win the race and beat the virus?”
“Compartmentalize, Milo. We’ve been at this for twenty life cycles. You’ve not failed me once.”
“Nia? The virus. I can…it’s infecting me too. I want-I want money!”
“We lost money each past cycle,” Milo hiccups, his eyelid drooping beneath his flame-dyed hair.
“You didn’t fail me, Milo, and I’m determined not to fail you or our people.”
Currency symbols rotate in the center of Milo’s super-black iris until Nia taps him on the head,
“Ok, Nia. My extended offline side will help you, while my online side battles the virus.”
“Happy battles, I believe in you buddy!” Nia’s smile matches the dancing smiley in Milo’s iris,
“You’re a five-Gen, a fifty-year-old cyborg cyclops, I know you can beat a little virus.”
Races
Nia and Milo work non-stop against the ever blazing, surface scorching sun
Nia taught Milo that red symbolizes love and super-black contains endless possibilities,
“We are what we build on ourselves, and not what others attach to us.”
Milo dreams of becoming an A.I. seeking solutions on the race’s livestreamed reality show
Fear meant a sun reminiscent, hair flame-dyed, and super-black eyed A.I. was unheard of
Nia and Milo work non-stop against the ever blazing, surface scorching sun
A working hydroponic garden means surviving climate change, and retiring in a luxury ice hotel.
“I swear by my proud black plum afro and mazarine irises no one will dare disrespect us,”
Nia taught Milo that red symbolizes love and super-black contains endless possibilities,
“Born with patches of white, brown, and black skin my parents agree I’m a symbol of unity,”
Nia yells at the mirror, projected by her upgraded contact lenses, while her friend recharges.
“We are what we build on ourselves, and not what others attach to us.”
The Garden
Hydroponic seeds sprout on synthetic, spider spun wool
Robot Alpaca clones graze in printed grass fields
Oakleaf butterfly sized, solar energy collecting leaves power the self-sustainable farm house.
Wind turbines purify and desalinate the water
Water feeds the seeds grown in a lab and planted by drones in flower shaped patterns
Hydroponic seeds sprout on synthetic, spider spun wool
Robot Alpacas, built five stories high, wear web spun fluff
The excrement produced without harmful gasses fertilizes the ground beneath metal hooves
Robot Alpaca clones graze in printed grass fields
Rich soil replaces tar roads and pavement too hot for sandals and tires to tread
Waterproof and fire-resistant peanut-shaped, self-sealing domes weather the elements
Oakleaf butterfly sized, solar energy collecting leaves power the self-sustainable farm house.
M.I.L.O.
“Nia? I’m afraid I won’t be joining the panel after all, but it’s ok. I know you’ll survive.”
“You built a system based on unity, untouched by greed,”
“Dearest Nia, greed…money…is contagious. Our green home only works if it helps everyone.”
Nia kneels, a precious rare seed dropping out of her hand, “Milo, I need you. You’re my friend.”
“To defeat the virus, I need the sun that you need to beat,” Milo sighs,
“Nia? I’m afraid I won’t be joining the panel after all, but it’s ok. I know you’ll survive.”
A single teardrop falls. “Keep the stupid virus,” Nia mutters. Her fists pound their work station.
Milo extends two of his six robot arms, gripping his closest friend tight in one last hug,
“You built a system based on unity, untouched by greed,”
“The A.I. panel, our rivals’ robotic companions, and I will self-destruct in ten minutes.”
Nia braids strands of Milo’s flaming red hair around her wrist, his voice echoing as she runs,
“Dearest Nia, greed…money…is contagious. Our green home only works if it helps everyone.”
*
A sunflower graffitied on the back of a drone flies Milo’s ashes as close as possible to the sun
The residents of each green home wave a banner with the words: memories include loved ones
A rare precious seed, sprouting in a world overrun
Inside the cracks of technology booms the swiveling war and peace drums.