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December 14, 2022
Words are the bricks and mortar of the mind;
pictures alone bear insufficient weight.
ÒMessageÓ demands a bridge more strongly lined,
passing from brain to brain our human freight.
Wagons of thought traverse these worded roads,
linking through space and time our separate heads,
making from widely spread synaptic nodes
a single mental net of verbal threads.
Mathematics traced our footsteps to the moon,
but Johnson didnÕt calculate alone.
The brains that steered the astronaut platoon
amongst them counted ArchimedesÕ own.
Since words convey between us all we know,
how great that art that shapes them as they go.
This is an expanded version of a tweet-length poem I wrote to prove some kind of point in a Twitter discussion and then posted on Facebook. IÕve forgotten the original context, and having nuked my Twitter account last May, I canÕt check. IÕm sure I won the argument, though, since thatÕs how Twitter works. (TLM, Dec. 14, 2022)
The first iamb in each of the first seven lines has been replaced with a trochee. The final seven lines are normal iambic pentameter.
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