Gently with the newbies, a sonnet

Don't call this fledgling to a strict account.
He has not glided in the wider world,
Nor even left his nest, and no amount
Of flapping of his wings, so new-unfurled,
Can really substitute for honest flight.
He doesn't understand the atmosphere,
The updrafts and the currents, but he might
Become a thinker and a writer here.
He has a lot to learn of content, yes,  
But also that opponents may respect
Each other, disagreeing none the less,
(A thought on which some others could reflect.)
Let's tolerate his rudeness for the nonce:
Remember that we all were callow once.

Originally posted on Making Light, in reaction to an incipient dogpile.

Against Entropy, the Monkey Version

I'm not Mike Ford, nor was I meant to be;
But an attendant lord, who will just do
To swell a thread, or start a meme or three,
Obtuse and pompous, yes, and foolish too.
Yet still I write my high sentitious verse,
Between the ether and the mermaid beach.
My scansion's poor, my structure's even worse,
And artistry is far beyond my reach.
I'm not alone: beside me Ledgister
Sits pecking at his keys with hairy paws.
We're monkeys, see? Does Shakespeare register
Or can we go for Ford instead? No pause...
Fragano, Raven, Dan and I all writ
And hoped our numbers reached the infinite.

Originally posted on Making Light, in memory of John M Ford.