cartograph (Remove filter)
Mercator
He drew the world not as it is—
but as it might be travelled.
Lines stretched taut like tendons
across the muscle of oceans;
longitudes obedient,
latitudes arranged in tempered rows.
The poles swelled with false importance,
the equator shrank to a whisper.
Yet in distortion, there was clarity—
a map not of truth, but of purpose.
And isn’t that th...
Monday 23rd June 2025 1:03 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Nobel Prize for Lies
10 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on YORKSHIRE DAY
16 minutes ago
John Coopey on YORKSHIRE DAY
30 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Farewell
32 minutes ago
Alexia_Supreme on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
4 hours ago
Landi Cruz on frankenstein
4 hours ago
Trevor Alexander on The Nobel Prize for Lies
12 hours ago
Trevor Alexander on Target
15 hours ago
Mike McPeek on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
18 hours ago
Rick Varden on Slug
21 hours ago