With the loftiness of a Shakespearean sonnet and the romantic notions of some, though not any one in particular, I designed this to mock an ode’s usual drawn-out affair by keeping it relatively short, though it required three sonnets to complete.
While most odes are lyrical and even sung, singing this is not recommended. It also lacks the iambic pentameter typical of a sonnet, but each is 14 lines, uses the average 10 syllables, and has the rhyming ends of the abab/cdcd/efef/gg structure.
As a whole, Ode to Alex describes the transition of communication. Sonnet I introduces the impracticality of a cup and string, offers the alternate use of a carrier pigeon, and notes excitement in the successful invention of the telephone. Sonnet II details the limits of corded phones, the user “stuck” within the confines of the cord length, and the progression to the use of cell phones. Sonnet III questions whether our reliance on cordless technology actually binds us even more, culminating in an implanted chip through which one may simply “think” in order to place a call.
The Bard may cringe and so may you, but any resemblances to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No animals were harmed, though if you choose to read it aloud to your own pet, then I abdicate all responsibility for any future damages, real or imagined.
Ode to Alex
Were it not for days of an old tin cup
Where sound waves carry ‘long a waxen string
‘Twould have been easier to simply up,
Visit a chambermate lest wait ‘til spring
Our kinship doth cross yon channel wide
Force creative hands to send word ahead
When caller seeks to span cosmic divide
Carrier pigeon bears message instead
Until old Alex’s Watson made haste
To confirm words on history’s parchment
Enthralling those technologically chaste
Whose tongues held so long did cause to ferment
Gossipy prattle on town’s party line
Privy by phone booth—latent counsel enshrine
O! tether, my cord, shall I gain no retreat
Synthetic appendage to mine ear wouldst
Enjoin discourse fruitful, ever discreet
To my lover that whilst cherished, but thou shouldst
Await time’s glorious release of that
Spiral creature held hostage by Mother
Paths worn ‘til planks concave womb give rise to the matte
Exposed ‘neath urethane polish whilst other
Less stringent encumbrances bind, as words
Floating wafts of scintillating suggestion
Alight yon cell towers heaven – to birds
Ask only one rhetorical question
If mine eyes blinded by thou pimped cover
Whither doth burst sexts from my lover?
And so my dear Alex, O! Alex my love
Be thou blessed among nation’s inventors
To whom yelling string-ed messages shoved
Through wires, bound tidings of those relenters
Willing to part with wires and fences
Set free from the shackles that Mother prepared
Saving only for Job’s recompenses
Of iPhone and iPad ‘twill boast, “none compared,”
I pose one new query to all app makers
While physical entanglements no longer
Do tether, but Amish and Quakers
‘Tisnt invisible cord ever stronger?
Whilst touch screen doth blind us, prophesy may tell
Think and it shall be: connection without cell