Haven't been blogging for a while, but here is a sestina. A highly stylised form of 12th century poetry. Not only am I blogging again, but a poem as well! Feel free to send me a sestina and I'll post it. I have foregone Iambic pentameter, because it's hard and I'm lazy.
Going to Work?
Today I arrived at the train station
And cursed the right-handed ticket machine
One of life's less subtle jokes
A sinister cross to bear
I can't allow a feeling of persecution
Because that way leads madness
Maybe I should give way to madness?
Reject my place in life's station
Embrace a state of persecution
Should you be talking to me, Machine?
I find it hard to bear
Your overly technical jokes.
Kidnap victims make jokes
To keep out the madness
Like a sanity Teddy Bear
I have found my station
In front of my tired machine
My own lesser persecution
It's a phantom persecution
Like bad Scooby-Doo jokes
010000010110110100100000010010010010000001100001 Machine?
Roll on, roll on everyday madness
Last stop crazy station
I ate your porridge, bear.
Little dipper you are a bear
Free from any earthly persecution
Shining in your heavenly station
The butt of big dipper's jokes
Do you reflect my madness
Stuck in my corporeal machine?
Being used like a machine
Is a situation I can bear
It leads to a bland madness
With little or no persecution
No more bad jokes
Numbly, I accept my station
Do I station myself to act like a machine?
Relating to life like bad jokes that I cannot bear.
Do I prefer boredom to persecution and madness?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment