Log in
Dabbling in Poetry
After watching the bizarre spectacle of the protests, I stewed for several days. Finally, a line from a song by [The] Offspring sprang to mind, all unbidden. It kicked off a creative streak, and because I've been trying to up my game by adopting classic form, I thought I'd attempt a sonnet. So, with all due apologies to Offspring, here it is:
When will the truth come into season?
I have a feeling it'll be a long time.
'It's Patriarchal, Bigoted, to ponder with reason,'
Said Experts, trying to justify crime.
'Away with your facts! Hatred and treason
Are the only response to this kind of crime;
And dissenters approve of a death with knees on
A neck, you *bastard* you SUCKER OF SLIME!!'
And so we are shamed, to stoop with our knees on
The ground, to try and atone for a crime
We did not commit, nor look for a reason
For collective guilt over centuries of time.
But this self-righteous kind of sentiment
Ferments a deep, very dark resentment...
[BTW, do you know how few words rhyme with 'season'? Seriously, why couldn't I think of that before?]
When will the truth come into season?
I have a feeling it'll be a long time.
'It's Patriarchal, Bigoted, to ponder with reason,'
Said Experts, trying to justify crime.
'Away with your facts! Hatred and treason
Are the only response to this kind of crime;
And dissenters approve of a death with knees on
A neck, you *bastard* you SUCKER OF SLIME!!'
And so we are shamed, to stoop with our knees on
The ground, to try and atone for a crime
We did not commit, nor look for a reason
For collective guilt over centuries of time.
But this self-righteous kind of sentiment
Ferments a deep, very dark resentment...
[BTW, do you know how few words rhyme with 'season'? Seriously, why couldn't I think of that before?]
