Dec. 7th, 2009

This semester just gone I took four courses. I, um, submitted poetry as part of my final assessment for three of those.

I spent far longer working on this Sonnet than I did on the essay I put it at the start of.

The faces of the crowd are focused on
her lively racing pen upon the board.
With symbols from that pen a light is shone
into the cluttered mindset of the horde.
And as her hands these arcane patterns trace
a murmur from the crowd begins to rise.
They start to notice what they'll have to face
and anger sparks and flashes in their eyes.
The knowledge that they hold in high esteem -
the formulae and facts explaining all -
once firm and strong as marble, now are steam
compared to what is written on the wall.
But while they should be thankful for this proof,
their hatred shows just how much they love Truth.

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JayDee

February 2013

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