Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Roll over Betjeman (and tell Walt Whitman the news)

The Blogger’s Lament
by Brit

Upstairs in the unforgiving
World, the World must earn a living,
Stuggling 'gainst the time and tide,
'Til sun sets on that World Outside
And softly sweet the night is falling,
But the blogger’s lonely calling,
Keeps him to his basement tied.

For the blogger’s work is ne’er abated,
The newsfeed’s greed is never sated,
The blogosphere keeps getting bigger,
And RSI it cramps his trigger-
happy finger, ever-clicking,
Ever cutting, pasting, sticking,
And in the end for what? Go figure!

Is it of his own volition
He endures this strange war of attrition?
Perhaps for his own education?
Perhaps for folks in other nations?
For those whom ignorance has blinded,
Or for the like and unlike-minded?
Perhaps for future generations?

For who can doubt it’s his vocation
To surf this sea of information?
His skill: to find the perfect snippet,
To metaphorically paperclip it
To another view or bent,
Find the balance of the argument,
Then, with his pithy comment, tip it.

But beside his true goal this goal pales:
He hopes to tip the whole World’s scales!
For those who know the blogworld know
A snowball idea can grow and grow!
And in other basements, down below,
By the monitor light’s ghostly glow,
Other bloggers add their snow.
For the blogworld’s ever on the go,
A constant state of change and flow…

…But from himself he’ll try and mask
How great his Sisyphean task.
For the Outside World’s so big, so slow,
And jealously guards the status quo.

9 Comments:

Blogger Duck said...

Bravissimo! Will you still hang out with us after you win the Nobel prize for poetry?

August 22, 2006 5:22 AM  
Blogger Brit said...

Don't worry, I've got a heck of a lot of poems glorifying brutal dictators and communist regimes to write before I get to the Nobel.

August 22, 2006 5:47 AM  
Blogger Peter Burnet said...

Sublime, Brit.

August 22, 2006 8:29 AM  
Blogger David said...

With apologies to Joyce Kilmer (and everyone else).

Blogs.

I think that I shall never log
A tree as lovely as a blog.

A blog whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the web’s enormous breast;

A blog that that quickly become the bane
Of facts unseen through the basement pane;

A blog on politics, fashion or fame
For the housebound and the lame;

For whose pages authors farm
Pixels so no tree is harmed.

Trees result from random selection
But only blogs can swing elections.

August 22, 2006 10:32 AM  
Blogger Oroborous said...

Brit: Sweet !!

David: Funny but at points painful.

August 22, 2006 11:47 PM  
Blogger Brit said...

It would be tasteless in the extreme to suggest that the shortening of Joyce Kilmer's career as a poet was one of the few benefits of WWI, but that was very funny, David.

The punchline is inaccurate, mind.

August 23, 2006 1:27 AM  
Blogger Hey Skipper said...

Nothing in either of these about pajamas.

How can that be?

August 23, 2006 3:59 AM  
Blogger David said...

Following up on Brit's comment about Joyce Kilmer, I discovered that Joyce Kilmer was a man.

I'm flabbergasted. I'm gobsmacked.

If you made me read Trees without telling me the name of the author, it would still never occur to me that she was a man.

August 24, 2006 5:49 AM  
Blogger Chumley said...

I think it must make the next Oxford Book of Light Verse. Bravo.

April 17, 2007 1:50 PM  

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