deepundergroundpoetry.com
What Hath God Wrought?
When stars rise high above the lab complex
And nothing's left to chance, left to perplex,
Once every migrant minnow has been tracked
And boiled down to data, printed, stacked—
There still (infernally!) exist attacks
On Mankind's cherished collection of facts,
Accusing it of killing poetry
Reducing Love to A, C, T and G.
But what of delicate intricacies
Laid bare by dedication to disease?
The world's a Rube Goldberg machine, and cheers—
We're fortunate enough to glimpse the gears!
They say that science kills artistic feel.
I say that beauty's forged from studied steel.
And nothing's left to chance, left to perplex,
Once every migrant minnow has been tracked
And boiled down to data, printed, stacked—
There still (infernally!) exist attacks
On Mankind's cherished collection of facts,
Accusing it of killing poetry
Reducing Love to A, C, T and G.
But what of delicate intricacies
Laid bare by dedication to disease?
The world's a Rube Goldberg machine, and cheers—
We're fortunate enough to glimpse the gears!
They say that science kills artistic feel.
I say that beauty's forged from studied steel.
Published 17th Jun 2011
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The author encourages honest critique.
17th Jun 2011 10:51am
I adore the first two stanzas with a passion. I am going to be a dick and pretend the final 2 do not exist, but only for my taste. Well done.
Well I'll agree that I'm not sure I like the third stanza (it seems somewhat heavy-handed), but I do like the last two lines. And I can't get rid of it, as it's a sonnet after all. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Anonymous
17th Jun 2011 6:07pm
This reminds me of the quote by Raymond Chandler I published on the forums ages ago: "There are two kinds of truth: the truth that lights the way and the truth that warms the heart. The first of these is science, and the second is art. Neither is independent of the other or more important than the other. Without art science would be as useless as a pair of high forceps in the hands of a plumber. Without science art would become a crude mess of folklore and emotional quackery. The truth of art keeps science from becoming inhuman, and the truth of science keeps art from becoming ridiculous."
This is a beautifully constructed sonnet Mike, the way each sound and syllable clicks into place, without affecting the integrity of the syntax, is so perfect it sends a shiver of pleasure down the spine. One for my reading list.
This is a beautifully constructed sonnet Mike, the way each sound and syllable clicks into place, without affecting the integrity of the syntax, is so perfect it sends a shiver of pleasure down the spine. One for my reading list.
17th Jun 2011 9:09pm
Definitely, that quote fits. I was trying to figure out how would be the best way to get the idea across of the superconvolution and ultimate complexity of the world being beautiful in its perfection and almost magical in that it can operate despite its unimaginably intricate interweavings, and the sonnet form just stood out as the logical choice in which to couch any discussion of intricacy, as it is a representation of that itself.
