Forgotten Ground Regained
The Modern Poet’s Word Hoard
Originally published in Withowinde 192, p. 12, Winter, 2019
Hwaet!Amid ancient hills alive with songThis wordsmith sits, with winking lights.A wireless network, the world wide webAt my fingertips – friend, or foe?
Well …Strange and wonderful space stallions surgingFarting fireballs, bright flame leapersClimb heavenwards to the comet’s riding.Newton’s progeny, the planet pilgrim,Explores the emptiness, outward bound,Carrying mankind’s message to a million stars,Voyager, void hurdler, slowly vanishing.
But …Back on earth, ensnared by the Internet,That seducer of time and solver of puzzles,That sleepless data-dragon on its mound of dark desiresHoarding a billion wisdoms and wild dreams battling,All facts, fictions, fantasies avid for attention.This work of tech giants has created galleries of kittens,Floods of fake news, and friends’ news, feeding the beast.
And …Words are carried across the wind ridden ether,Distance devoured, time zones denied,Pictures follow from my pocket-talker,Face-speaker, far-friend hailer,Stalker of strangers, snapper of selfies,A digital harp for my music board,A library of stories lights up my screen,The kindness of Kindle keeps me well read.
A riddle …A nadir of culture, a nemesis of poetry,A chance to find a wider fellowship.What am I called?
Copyright © Phyllis Wicks, 2019
Answer: The Internet