<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416197" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Poem in Place of a Lecture</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or Vice-Versa</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This morning, friends, the blackboard will be black<br>Behind my skull: your eyelids will be slack,<br>And I could wearily cajole from you, or you,<br>Slow answers to dull questions; or grow annoyed<br>Earnestly deploying on the black void<br>Lyra’s measured stars. But I must learn anew<br>To cope with darkness: these voids won’t do<br>As palps where I could plot the dusty lore,<br>The diagrams, the arty emblems you ignore,<br>Your blood too thin to tick into the brain<br>The winged horse mustered from the sod<br>To be the Muses’ pet, a demi-god<br>High in black heaven. I will not strain—<br>The chalk crumpling, your eyelids flickering—to explain<br>Why ignorant men pricked darkness full of scars<br>And gave them godly names, and called them stars.<br>You quench whole constellations on the black<br>Walls of your skulls; arts you dishonour die.<br>The sky will go black and Hippocrene run dry<br>Before I will fix one light in your blind skulls this black<br>Morning, friends. The blackboard will stay black.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Phillip+McAuley">James Phillip McAuley</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416197" data-title="A Poem in Place of a Lecture de James Phillip McAuley" data-description="Or Vice-Versa This morning, friends, the blackboard will be black Behind my skull: your eyelids will be slack, And I could wearily cajole from you, or you, Slow answers to dull questions; or grow annoyed Earnestly deploying on the black void Lyra..."></div> </div> </div>

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