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A Ballade of Primordial Insects
Primordial insects, an eye on their phones,
Were safe for they'd multiple eyelets to track
Positions and where they were going. Their drones,
Their workers and queens would refrain from the slack
And empty obsession with screens that can wrack,
Creating a danger when flying about.
But still, they collided, a clattering stack
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
Technology wasn't inscribed in their bones—
As insects, they didn't possess them. But back
In time immemorial, starting with stones
Through millions of eons, they learned how to hack,
Constructing from silicon such bric-a-brac
That moderns would recognize, point at, and shout.
Tectonics subsumed it, but bodies don't crack,
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
A civilization that stretches and hones
Material culture is prone to attack
By earthquakes and weather. Advancement postpones
Destruction but doesn't inhibit a sack:
Exploding volcanoes deliver a whack.
Predictable? Yes, but avoidance is out.
The best you can hope for is seeing your pack
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
Perhaps I exaggerate. Surely the lack
Of evidence indicates something. I doubt
That bugs had computers. I'm clearly a quack,
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
Were safe for they'd multiple eyelets to track
Positions and where they were going. Their drones,
Their workers and queens would refrain from the slack
And empty obsession with screens that can wrack,
Creating a danger when flying about.
But still, they collided, a clattering stack
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
Technology wasn't inscribed in their bones—
As insects, they didn't possess them. But back
In time immemorial, starting with stones
Through millions of eons, they learned how to hack,
Constructing from silicon such bric-a-brac
That moderns would recognize, point at, and shout.
Tectonics subsumed it, but bodies don't crack,
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
A civilization that stretches and hones
Material culture is prone to attack
By earthquakes and weather. Advancement postpones
Destruction but doesn't inhibit a sack:
Exploding volcanoes deliver a whack.
Predictable? Yes, but avoidance is out.
The best you can hope for is seeing your pack
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
Perhaps I exaggerate. Surely the lack
Of evidence indicates something. I doubt
That bugs had computers. I'm clearly a quack,
Encrusted in amber from stinger to snout.
Hmm. An alternate timeline? Abounding with humorous notes, though I am wondering what it is the speaker is looking at which gives them toward this fanciful speculation (since it deals with a discrete subject), and just who this amber-encrusted quack is, anyway.
Given the title, I assume that names the poetical form. While I've heard of it, i don't know its rules. The rhythm is steady, and amphibrachs aren't the easiest to use. Ah, and the rhymes repeat, so only three for a poem of this length. That makes word choice tough, but you managed it well. Does a ballade use repeated last lines like this? It puts me in the mind of something like a villanelle. If I hazard a guess to meaning, it's that modern culture of filing to and from work and having our attention constantly on our computers/phones makes us little better than simple insects from millions of years ago. Not the clearest meaning of this batch of entries, but the construction is the most impressive.
Tough call, as all three entries are ones i could see as good enough to win any given write-off, though here they are against each other.
Tough call, as all three entries are ones i could see as good enough to win any given write-off, though here they are against each other.
>>Heavy_Mole
>>Pascoite
Thanks, folks:
I forgot all about this till just now. It needs another run through the word processor as they say--the first person narrator shjowing up at the end took me completely by surprise as I was writing, for instance--but I think there's something here worth poking at.
Mike
>>Pascoite
Thanks, folks:
I forgot all about this till just now. It needs another run through the word processor as they say--the first person narrator shjowing up at the end took me completely by surprise as I was writing, for instance--but I think there's something here worth poking at.
Mike