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#Facebook, #WeDoWhatWeCan, Canadian poet, Elaine Stirling, form poetry, humorous verse, times of upheaval, triolet
~~a trio of triolets~~
begging your pardon, chatelaine, if you’ve a moment, please,
we’ve a crisis with the seating in the northern banquet hall.
the salty-tongued are wedged between the skipjack and the cheese.
begging your pardon, chatelaine, if you’ve a moment, please,
the curtains have caught fire & the cushions twitch with fleas;
the secretly entitled have engaged upon a brawl.
begging your pardon, chatelaine, if you’ve a moment, please,
we’ve a crisis with the seating in the northern banquet hall.
we have to find a way to seat the nasty with the kind;
otherwise, this realm is sure to split right down the middle.
the furious take too much space, defeated hoard the wine;
we have to find a way to seat the nasty with the kind.
the royal sanctimonious insist that we must dine
in deference to some history writ upon a holy griddle.
we have to find a way to seat the nasty with the kind;
otherwise, this realm is sure to split right down the middle.
o, servant dear, when will you learn there’s grace beyond the muddle,
and no one will be served by you exhausting your own station?
yesterday’s great deluge will become tomorrow’s puddle.
o, servant dear, when will you learn there’s grace beyond the muddle?
the beastly ones you can’t control, they hunger for a cuddle;
you’re not their ruler, nor the judge or source of their creation.
o, servant dear, when will you learn there’s grace beyond the muddle,
and no one will be served by you exhausting your own station?
~~~
© Elaine Stirling, 2017
Image: political cartoon from 1813
With apologies to Mark Zuckerberg and all hardworking FB employees. Truth is, I love the medium, but, boy, yesterday was a killer! I can’t even imagine what it’s like from where you sit. So, for all you do, Facebook, thank you!
Oceantics 
I love this poem, but I don’t get the connection to FB. I love the story it evokes in my imagination, and I love the alliteration and the fun of reading it aloud. But … am I the only English language reader who cannot find the connection? Is it something obvious that I am overlooking — obvious to all but me?
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Helen, so wonderful to hear from you, thank you! You’re not overlooking anything, I assure you. The poem came about through my complete frustration with FB friends and their emotional responses to current events. Which, of course, they’re entitled to. But on that day, the newsfeed was torture, and I’d have achieved nothing by scolding everyone. Hence, the triolets. Writing them restored my equilibrium, while the title refused to budge. It was a day of vast irreconcilibities. Thank you for reading it aloud. 🙂
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Oh, Perfect! Now I understand completely.
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