Some argue that meaning comes from context
Web means one thing to a tech billionaire
Another to an arachnophobe, vexed;
About what’s in the context, we should care
In the bin, I’m just so much round rubber
Anonymous, inert, quite meaningless
On the ice, I’m a coveted lover
With me, they become gods; without, worthless
Precisely what I am matters as well
If I were glass, or silk, there’d be no game;
A clever satyr with my name could tell
A joke or riddle, but what’s in a name?
Surely, meaning is made of what and where
In the net, I create joy and despair
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Keep reading
More stories from D. J. Reddall and writers in Poets and other communities.
Doing it for the troops
The others dropped like flies around me. We fought and struggled to get to this point. I'm the only one left now. The objective is right there. A mere two hundred feet away. The last of my team got a bullet to the head right next to me, but I couldn't do anything. I was able to locate and neutralise the sniper as he shot my friend, so his death was at least not in vain.
By Mohammed Darasi6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
What and where and who then!
This was certainly thought provoking. Loved your poem!
Ah, that little piece of rubber, so battered and pursued. Like the reference to Puck too. Timely sonnet too with play offs looming.
Very clever, D.J.
Intriguing story by an intriguing mind!
🌹Good story