golden flowers stand in formation
at attention on a faded blue field
ever they face the rostrum of knowledge
erudition penetrates
gently the ears, violently the mind
scholars sit slouched in chairs
hunched over notepads
feet shuffle on floral carpet
pens pretend to scribble
the air charges with cerebral energy
synapse fires
neurons flash
fact and invention infuse
fill already overflowing brains
condense on aural canals
drips sink in, streams retreat
shower down information
on the fleurs-de-lis
as they, rigid, attend the speaker
5 comments:
At least while your pen was "pretend[ing] to scribble" you were writing beauty. Nicely done.
Wow! Poetry has always flowed out of your mouth, I didn't know it flows so well out of your "pen", too. (Who knew that flowers in graduate school had synapses and neurons rather than pistols and stamens?) ;)
Now, here's a real poet.
It is amazing how much you can learn about a room when listening, or attempting to listen, to a lecture. Floral pattern carpet. Almost sounds like you were about to fall asleep in class.
And from thy pen a fountain pure
an understanding voice
my thoughts exactly captured new
though in silence rejoiced...
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