Post Modern Imagination
This started out wanting to be a sonnet but turned
into something less. Posting it. Because. I rarely
post out-of-fandom musings. If anybody reads this,
feel free to comment.
Post Modern Imagination
It came upon me when I was thinking
(the cursor on my screen was still blinking)
The sum of what’s imagined cannot be
Any less than what we cannot see
I’ve had a nagging superstition since
The kind that makes an insecure scribe wince
What they say is our human condition
Is nothing more than chronic plagiarism
We beg and steal to be original
We try to fight the vapid and banal
Still every sound is déja entendu
Still every word is lonely and jejune
There is no summit left for us to climb
That others haven’t razed in their own time
We’re so afraid there’s no light left to shine
Except what we can kindle in our minds
How sad it is to think we’re in the dark
And all we make through life and death is art
- - - - -
into something less. Posting it. Because. I rarely
post out-of-fandom musings. If anybody reads this,
feel free to comment.
Post Modern Imagination
It came upon me when I was thinking
(the cursor on my screen was still blinking)
The sum of what’s imagined cannot be
Any less than what we cannot see
I’ve had a nagging superstition since
The kind that makes an insecure scribe wince
What they say is our human condition
Is nothing more than chronic plagiarism
We beg and steal to be original
We try to fight the vapid and banal
Still every sound is déja entendu
Still every word is lonely and jejune
There is no summit left for us to climb
That others haven’t razed in their own time
We’re so afraid there’s no light left to shine
Except what we can kindle in our minds
How sad it is to think we’re in the dark
And all we make through life and death is art
- - - - -