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Write a poem for National Poetry Month based on the topic described....rather, write a poem set in, pertaining to, or inspired by the given region, whether its entirety or just some part of it, as this year's prompts are going to be unified by the theme "Around the World" like last year's prompts were unified by the theme "Esoterica". Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. There are three levels of participation:
Bronze. Participated at least once.
Silver. Participated every day.
Gold. Participated every day, with all entries either being the same form (e.g., every one a sonnet) or being distinct forms (e.g., no two haiku).
Today's region is Inner China.
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Monoculture
China, Middle Kingdom, a vast hydraulic
empire, home to exquisite culture, poets,
art, refined calligraphy, and perfected
system for placing
men of intellectual merit in its
upper reaches, exercised great control of
its whole landscape, rivers and Grand Canal with
damming and digging
carried out by millions of drafted peasants.
Over time the rivers revolted - silting,
flooding, leaving salinization. Later,
so did the peasants.
Non-practicing atheist
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Joined: Dec 2017
(Yesterday, 05:53 AM)dukealien Wrote: Monoculture
China, Middle Kingdom, a vast hydraulic
empire, home to exquisite culture, poets,
art, refined calligraphy, and perfected
system for placing
men of intellectual merit in its
upper reaches, exercised great control of
its whole landscape, rivers and Grand Canal with
damming and digging
carried out by millions of drafted peasants.
Over time the rivers revolted - silting,
flooding, leaving salinization. Later,
so did the peasants.
Cliched and out of date sentiment, but clever ending
Posts: 1,200
Threads: 492
Joined: Nov 2013
Three Giants
These giants were so enrapt by their exchange
that only when they heard the tiger roar,
warding off all intruders to her land,
did they finally catch how far they'd gone:
down various plains, up hills and peaks, across
so many meandering rivers that to them
were merely creeks---they could not help but laugh,
the youth whose mystic vision had drawn out
like poison from a wound all sense of cheer,
the senex who was never so severe,
and the workman in the middle: three separate paths
too often confused for one, too rarely seen
as all at once essential to be taken.
