Sonnet II: What Is Kept

Take care young girl in what thou keepest real,
For what thou real profess, wilt thou become;
And be thy carriage drawn to thine ideal,
Wherefore should–pure for thee–white horses come?

This trap  thou,  from  thy cold demesnes, create;
So frozen deep canst thou escape therefrom;
May not thy carriage, soul with ice conflate;
Through frost, could–lost to thee–white horses come?

How good or sweet, when meanness harsh thy word,
Bereave thine heart, and lovely spirit numb?
For passed thy carriage, thine entreat unheard;
And would–nor should to thee–white horses come.

Thy carriage, see to rancour’s cost, succumb.
And ne’er–not ere for thee–white horses come.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:

Permalink

Advertisements

36 responses to “Sonnet II: What Is Kept

    • Thank you, this is a theme to which I have oft returned: One changes ones life by the act of creation, not description. Description can be interesting and beautiful, and even may it contain some creative element; however, at its heart, it is still description, and as such depends greatly upon ones perception and how it is attuned, educated, &c. Creation, which includes the creation of ones view of life, world, home, inside and outside, as well as specific forms of creation, artistic, scientific, &c. has the power to actually CAUSE us to observe, when we describe, such things as we have never before seen. Yet have such things been right before our eyes all the while.

      This particular piece is a response to the term “Keepin’ it real,” and for the same reason. This phrase essentially is congruent to the older pop cultural phrase “Telling it like it is,” and this can only be done to the limits of ones understanding and perception. Both phrases are quite often punctuated with profanity, although not always, but even there, what one usually sees when either of these two phrases are applied is someone looking at life’s events in the worst possible way.

      Like

  1. I have long desired to write a sonnet with a repeated figure as well, and therefore this was the result of (possibly, if I remember correctly) my first attempt at this (in sonnet form in any case. Although, there may have been a hint of it here and there over the years.

    Like

  2. This one is lovely. It has a simplicity that is charming and a flow that is very pleasing.

    Of course, you know that the subject is near and dear to my heart and I would love to see it required reading for young girls before they reach their thirteenth year. I can dream, can’t I?

    Like

  3. Pingback: A Message for the admitting and the non admitting Alcoholics. « just telling it as it is

    • I found myself lucasing (a word for [sometimes compulsive, continual] editing after the fact) here in the wee hours and saw your comment. This statement of yours is very short but gets at the heart of the piece, as you will see if you have time to read a few of the other comments.

      Like

    • I enjoyed reading the comments here (as I often do). My thoughts pivot around the notion of ‘reality’. The reality concocted by governments, media, and so on, pounds upon us daily and is unbelievably frightening to me. Thank goodness for the ability to create our own realities, and to communicate some of the joy, variety and strength of that creation and creative process to others.

      Like

    • I neither read nor watch the news any longer, and for that very reason–among others. I now hear of “big” national events through the mention of others.

      This often delays my finding out about the “big” stories for a day or so. I have found, these last few years, that this is the best way to learn of such things, as they have a way of shaking themselves out, so to speak, after a while.

      Thanks for dropping by and
      telling it like it is (or not : )

      Keep it real! (or not : )

      Like

    • To be truthful, I am not entirely sure. Perhaps because it is of a subject we have both considered at great length. My feelings regarding this subject matter are really quite heartfelt; all the more, perhaps, because my genetic profile compels me to protect young girls. I cannot therefore–and for other more concious reasons–bear to see them unhappy. (It makes me perhaps a better grandfather than a father–though of course Mrs. Emeron would sternly disagree : )

      And on another subject entirely, I like the current icon you have chosen. From a distance you (or is it your daughter again. the deuce, I say, with my sub-standard visual cortex! It is most embarrassing that I cannot discern such things as easily as can most people)… In any case, from a distance it looks colourful, and from close up, you look deeply thoughtful, yet also happy–content. I see little of the restlessness of which you so often make mention.

      Like

    • Yes, Poetess, I do understand.

      Only if you desire it and would enjoy reading them. They will post tomorrow and the day after in any case. But as always, I feel most honoured when you do–all the more because I know how busy must be your life.

      Like

  4. Read silently or aloud, this is transcending. The ebb and flow – a mysterious sea of beauty. And this is why I say to leave Shakespeare’s sonnets as a low priority. I wish I could live long enough to see you hailed as a creative force and people poring over your work as they do Shakespeare.

    As I myself no longer listen to local, national, or world news, the times appalling bits create monstrosities in my hearing, I am comforted to know I can come here to find grace in a graceless age.

    Like

Insults Make Me Happy:

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s