This one is still fairly plain, employing some old (tired?) imagery... I don't know. It is more the posit of an argument against the cliche that the pen is mightier than sword, though it is clearly not.
rev 1
XXIV. Revolutions Blood and Ink
How the pen is not mightier
February 2006
(Sonnet)
Bold revolutions never have been won
by pen; but bloody steel and muscle taut
with fortitude or cause. Our ends weve bought
through dear exchange what ink-pens had begun.
He stands up tall, each generations son
who takes up heavy arms and words weve taught;
His painful memory to soon forgotten
within the breech of Times great thundering gun.
Our fate is sealed because the pen is weak
and years defeat the peace by wearing down.
When history repeats, the ends we seek
collect our youth like thorns upon our crown.
The sting of death cannot sustain my plea:
of future war were never to be free!
.
.
old
XXIV. The Blood of Revolutions
February 2006
(Sonnet)
Our revolutions never have been won
By pen; but, blood and steel and muscles taut
With fortitude (or other cause). Theyve fought
With flesh and tears what ink-pens had begun.
He stands up tall, this generations son
Whos taken up those arms (and words weve taught);
Cause memories are slim and oft forgot
Within the breech of Times great thundring gun.
Its such that ever history repeats
The actions that our soldiers took upon
The field; our fate is sealed though we dont see
That pens are weak and always Time defeats
The peace by wearing down, and thereupon
Of future wars were never to be free!
rev 1
XXIV. Revolutions Blood and Ink
How the pen is not mightier
February 2006
(Sonnet)
Bold revolutions never have been won
by pen; but bloody steel and muscle taut
with fortitude or cause. Our ends weve bought
through dear exchange what ink-pens had begun.
He stands up tall, each generations son
who takes up heavy arms and words weve taught;
His painful memory to soon forgotten
within the breech of Times great thundering gun.
Our fate is sealed because the pen is weak
and years defeat the peace by wearing down.
When history repeats, the ends we seek
collect our youth like thorns upon our crown.
The sting of death cannot sustain my plea:
of future war were never to be free!
.
.
old
XXIV. The Blood of Revolutions
February 2006
(Sonnet)
Our revolutions never have been won
By pen; but, blood and steel and muscles taut
With fortitude (or other cause). Theyve fought
With flesh and tears what ink-pens had begun.
He stands up tall, this generations son
Whos taken up those arms (and words weve taught);
Cause memories are slim and oft forgot
Within the breech of Times great thundring gun.
Its such that ever history repeats
The actions that our soldiers took upon
The field; our fate is sealed though we dont see
That pens are weak and always Time defeats
The peace by wearing down, and thereupon
Of future wars were never to be free!
egads!
