For day 13:
I use odd words
In everyday speech.
Ink runs from my mouth
Indelibly impressed by the ancients and
Imitator of their thought.
Identified proudly with the lovers of wisdom,
Intellect is no obscenity to me.
I don’t mean to say this pridefully. But why are people so often ashamed to admit they love to learn? Especially to my fellow smart ladies: you can be pretty AND smart. 😉
Somewhat inspired by this year’s NaPoWriMo poster: http://www.poets.org/national-poetry-month/form/poster-request-form
For Day 14:
I trace your chiseled jawline with my hand
Enraptured by the cold and steely gaze
Of living death etched sorely on your face.
My breath is caught–I draw back as you stand
And push me sideways. I can only hold
The hope that you know who I am within,
And not just bones and matter, blood and skin.
I see inside you, love you though you’re cold,
But you turn eyes to me which bear no hint
Of feeling, or of being, or of mind.
You know, you act, you speak, but wherein lies
The seed of soul in reason? I imprint
A concept of desire. Your design,
Alas, it fails to bring light to your eyes.
A Petrarchan sonnet modified to flow better in English.
I have always loved science fiction, especially featuring robotics. This stems from another, similar piece called “Son of Iron.”
I might make it into a series. I think studying metaphysics this semester for my philosophy degree probably had a little to do with this too. 😉