Does Dionysus drift through your entangled ecologies?
Does the haunting swan echo like the harmonious language
of power and politics?
Wait, who goes there?
The children dance by the rhapsodic moonlight,
they swan aimlessly like a sonata, its
discourse ringing crystal clear,
chiming and reverberating like the altar of Big Ben.
Hark!
There goes power and glory,
like Apollo riding a river of warped ideologies.
Be still and fear not.
For the ancient myth blossoms
like a melodic harmony.
As you sit and dictate your decisions
I become like bell hooks,
“Slowly estranged from education.”
Its altar no longer rhapsodic,
in its ecologies, disentangled.
This poem was submitted as part of the LSE HE Blog’s Poetry Amnesty.
Learned Words 