The monitor is cracked. A blackened line,
A torrent of distorted pixels, lies
Across the image of a face, its eyes
Obscured behind the break, while near, a whine
Comes whisp'ring from the tower. E'er online,
The avatar that marks and underlies
The fractured screen grows dark, the flick'ring guise
Of seeming wearing thin, its broad design
Strained far beyond its bandwidth. Yet the web
Envisions broader vistas, sprawled world-wide
And uncontrolled: a landscape like a virgin's sin,
Whose consummation ne'er arrives, her ebb
And frantic salient outpaced. Outside,
The tower stands; they are afraid within.
3 comments:
If earlier, I posted Monday's sonnet, then this one belongs to Tuesday. That means I am now five behind, a consequence of a busy week in which sonnets have competed with emergencies, houseguests, and once-a-year weekends. I wonder if I would be better off writing something - anything - as long as it counted, or if I should just fall behind and play catchup. This is a difficult piece, as I am trying two things: first, writing about something modern, and second, writing a Petrarchan sonnet. You can see how quickly I reach for familiar ground. :)
Ah, and I had to comment as soon as I realized....you wrote a Petrarchan sonnet!!! Congratulations! Yay! Keep it up! Really we should avoid the long "eye" sound for more than four rhymes, but that is immaterial and this is very good nonetheless. Oh, but I am so pleased you finally did it!
That was quite the surprising novelty to me, seeing a sonnet on such modern realities, yet it beautifully romanticizes it with the metaphor/s. Thought-provoking and laden with excellent imagery, it is delightful. All applause! (that's since what you'd get on AP) As for being busy and playing perpetual catch-up for a while, well, it is one of the realities of life after all.
Agh! I can't believe I did not notice 'til someone randomly pointed out - there are twelve syllables in line 11. Fail! I don't even like that line much, and now it's double bad.
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