In a hurry, I'll start the thread if that's cool and all.
"Census of Souls"
Cast out your net, gather the stars,
Nature's secret microcosm.
Swim the tidal analemma;
With innocence, prove Malthus right.
Faith healer steps between matching mirrors,
By lanternlight she counts each flame and finds..
That her task is no mere census of souls.
Horizons grow distant, refusing contact,
as the universe expands to house lust.
Someone needs to tell the computer
that her task is no mere census of souls.
So you've finally bitten your own tail
renounced the unknown
Remember that there are no chapters
between these mirrors
So you've finally reversed your own skin
She of the short path
has knitted a quine of your ambition
that cannot be removed, that cannot be removed.
The stars have aligned, creating a channel;
sterility now swims this river..
The tide breaks against the cliffs of contentment,
eroding your acceptance, and you overflow with pride.
Have you so much disdain for the shoulders upon which you dare to stand?
All these things we brought into existence
Jumpcone, hatemonger of intellect,
Industrial Revolution,
Laudanum-fed poetry,
The Hubble telescope
spies sudden movement,
telephones ring,
Computer
alerts
God.
How could we have known the significance?
Someone needs to tell the computer
that her task is no mere census of souls.
So you've finally bitten your own tail..
~~~~~~
I'll refrain from discussing the many meanings until voting's done. Although I suppose the moral is fairly obvious.
OFC wrote:
Voting will end exactly 48 hours from now.
1 poem
vs
1 poem
One vote per poster. Happy writing, all!
