Thursday, 3 April 2014
NaPoWriMo 2014 Day 3: Blogger
At the Poetry Business writing day last saturday Peter mentioned how great it was that a Ted Hughes poem mentioned a coal shed and asked how many people had one in their childhood home. It's been playing on my mind that a lot of my poetry doesn't make much of a nod to the time I am from and I guess that is where this comes from. It fell into being a sonnet of its own accord but I think the final two lines might be labouring the point too much.
Their spider like fingers trapeze across the keys.
Spine steadily fusing into a sharper curve,
allowing their lobes to lunge toward the screen.
Tabs whirl as if caught by a breeze
before a downpour of characters
drench the browser with details.
Each page revealing one more digital native,
foraging for memes and reams of knowledge.
For the like minded to offer them validation.
Striking that enter Key can make thoughts global.
An instant electrical, mental connection
tempered by a cold physical distance.
Hasn't that always been the condition?
Every one of us so close, yet so far.