Tag Archives: sonnet

Sonnet #4: Prologue

Two roommates, each with dearth of dignity,
Present themselves thus in our pithy scene,
‘Twixt whom new mirth grows from old pleasantry,
And ribald pun makes civil talk unclean.
From forth their biting tongues which farce befits,
A rush of off-color jokes takes the stage,
Rife with bawdy riposte and brazen wit—
Ignoble fools lifted from Shakespeare’s page.
The ceaseless chatter of their droll intent—
Enshrined elsewhere in better comedy—
Which, but their speakers’ hush, nought could prevent,
Falls now the victim to poor parody.
When poetic form lays sonnets to rest,
Fortune spares thine ears prattle manifest.

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Sonnet #3

Your fingers press gently against my skin
and brush away the bold color that bleeds
from the scar that you are etching within
my body forever; from the needle
into my skin rushes the viscous ink.
First touch I’ve given my canvas to you;
my skin meets the needle in perfect sync
with the river of black ink pulsing through
the dermis. The figure slowly takes shape
under the artful needle’s steady hum.
With each stroke on this physical landscape
now a further canvas my skin becomes.
A masterpiece, once merely a figment,
becomes eternal in liquid pigment.

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Sonnet #2

Brick by brick the craftsman came, laying
A lifetime of ramparts and sealing the cracks
With unyielding mortar, firm and staying,
To shield cloistered parapets from outside attacks.
Lacking external enmity did Time intervene
And dust the walls with steely abandonment
Isolating them from outside — save a keen
Rogue with utmost resolve, a dogged gent
With hammer and chisel, who — facing a wall —
Saw hidden beauty beneath Time’s neglect,
And sought to unmask its shroud, brighten its pall,
And its Delphic light within resurrect.
Finally infiltrating the fort he spied
The requited gaze of curious hazel eyes.

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Sonnet #1

How long ago seems spring’s saccharine bloom,
When Earth thirstily shed her wintry shawl
To ripen and unfurl her flowery plumes;
Eagerly did she the sun beckon withal,
Inviting fauna world over to graze
Upon her sweets. With sunlight glowing anew,
Heat burst from her soul in a euphoric blaze
And filled roses with color and morning with dew.
‘Twixt equinoxes nature’s ardor burned
Hot with midsummer fever — ere the frost
Of wintertide took sudden hold. Autumn turned
Earth’s rivers to droughts, her felicity lost.
Left untouched, summer falls to winter decay,
Yearning again for spring while the sun is away.

[Loosely inspired by William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 98]

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