Provocations in Rhyme
A performance piece for anyone who still knows the sound of a sharpener
Act I: The Gathering Storm
In corners of desks where the old warriors wait,
Yellow-bodied soldiers accept their fate.
Pink erasers crowned like tiny queens,
Metal bands holding court over graphite dreams.
"We are analog!" cries Number Two,
"We are real!" whispers 2H, soft and true.
"We leave marks!" declares the mechanical,
"We are tangible!" says the practical.
Act II: The Digital Uprising
But hark! What light through yonder screen breaks?
'Tis the laptop, and keyboards are the sun!
Trackpads gleaming, cursors blinking,
While the pencils sit... thinking.
Cloud storage rains on graphite dreams,
Auto-save murders the eraser's schemes.
Copy-paste killed the crossing-out,
While spell-check silenced the doubt.
Act III: The Philosophical Interlude
But wait, what is a pencil, really?
(Asked the poet, growing silly)
Is it wood that holds the gray?
Or dreams that won't fade away?
Is it the weight of thought made real?
The truth that fingertips can feel?
The whisper-scratch of mind on page?
The rebellion against the digital age?
Act IV: The Revolution
"We are not obsolete!" they cry in unison,
"We are the resistance!" (this is getting fun)
"We smudge, therefore we are!
We break, but we shine like stars!"
"For what is typing but distant touching?
What is cloud but weather clutching?
We are immediate! We are now!
We are the original somehow!"
Epilogue: The Victory
And so the pencils stood their ground,
While keyboards made their clicking sound.
Both claiming truth, both claiming might,
In the democracy of write.
For in the end, what matters most?
The tool? The thought? The holy ghost?
Or maybe just the simple fact
That words, once written, make a pact.
To last longer than their medium,
To mean more than their tedium,
To sing beyond their humble station...
To pencil in our salvation.
, Performed live at the Stationery Store Resistance Meeting
@whimsical.provacatour
[Editor's note: This piece was composed on recycled paper with a 2B pencil that asked not to be named]