Poem | The Matrix Reloaded by George Szirtes



Repetition and a slight grammatical malfunction haunt the opening two stanzas, but this awkward juddering is a deliberate glitch in the system when received as a bit-part, which each stanza in any poem has to be. In the Matrix movies, life is a neural interactive simulation, and reality, what we can feel, taste or smell, is defined as ‘electrical signals interpreted by your brain’. Philosophy of that nature brings the poem to a stunning finale. In-between, the mouth-watering treat comes in the shape of Matrix-style action, the flight between the gaunt columns of death and a frozen reaction which cracks with a deafening boom.  

There is much more to this poem than a movie, but if you are a sci-fi buff you might enjoy watching actor Patrick Stewart reading this poem.



The Matrix Reloaded



When we dream of death

            it is of the beauty

of dealing it.


When we dream of death

            it is not ourselves

that are feeling it.


We fly between death, between

            its gaunt columns,

through the architecture


of dying, swift,

            at bullet speed,

the frozen picture


of a dance that

            continues moving

to its track


of silences, till finally

            the deafening boom

where we crack


and reform into

            ourselves for ever,

 splitting then fused,


our programmes still running

            still dealing death,

not even bruised,


just waiting to choose

            the moment of

vanishing, to appear


as ready for ourselves as stars

            are for distance,

so brilliant, so near.