When I write of it
That I tend to hesitate
Still; so intimate,
But one of beauty
Is not an object of shame:
The human body.
Monthly Archives: February 2015
Sonnet II: Unleashed
For this I want, though seldom would disclose;
Or hesitate to vaunt, or to posses.
Regarding friendship’s trial, I might obsess
Beyond consideration, while the throes
Wherewith I drown myself… so rapt, bestows
Determination bound. But not unless
Desired, desire’s object might profess.
Admired and familiar, this repose
I name: delightful, wickedness. Revere
This touch I frame as art, or I implore,
Or even further; know this would appear
Unleashed, to go where one cannot ignore.
Severe and certain, certainly sincere,
Mine own to this explore, but not endear.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 2: His Form
The human body
Is not an object of shame,
But one of beauty.
Still, so intimate,
That I tend to hesitate,
When I write of it.
Sonnet I: Mirror
To feel my hand upon a shape, a form
I find familiar in its drape: though known,
It overwhelms my hand by touch alone,
Though sight and sound and scent and savour warm
Me to its thrill, its pleasurable norm,
And call me to its side. And I alone
May know I should confide in that I own,
And hence am owned by that which I transform.
I feel it know at once, as once I know
The day such stark perfection will arrive.
I know reflexively, almost as though
The figure in the mirror comes alive
And reaches out with anything but this:
A touch of any kind, except a kiss.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 1: A Wish
Most definitely
Take care, for what you don’t wish,
You might not receive;
And take special care,
For when you make no wishes,
None will be granted.
Sonnet VIII: By Any Other Name
For I, thy gifts supernal might suppose,
Thy daggered figure, cut, as by a blade,
Enough impending, chilling to impose,
Enough avowed, to make the world afraid;
Enough, without the whisper of a roar,
To quail, as judgement sharp would juxtapose;
Enough, when it were seen, enough before,
To pale when it has been, that next arose.
Enough to chill, undaunted though profess,
Might they; When they behold their fear, deplore;
Enough, this fearsome scrutiny to lessen
Say, that judgement least, is judgement more:
This naked cut, no man would dare to dress,
None adorn, none to aid, and none to bless.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 8: Kunai
What was fearful to many
Was a comfort to both of us
And that… is very interesting.
David Emeron: Sonnets 