Sonnet X: Labyrinth

His shape as pleaseth me, this fiery art
Doth longsome dream to me whilst gripped in sleep.
Shot through with lightning’s fire, doth dream impart
Such thrill: convivial to wake, to weep,

To think it trivial that thence I’ve gone,
That this Oneiran path: forever lost;
Not Morpheus, nor Hypnos’ other Spawn
Reveals’ this darkened place to whence I crost;

For these three Sons shall ‘ever show
A mortal man each labyrinth but once.
So at my waking hour, must I go
Away within imaginings, unless some bunce

Befall me; kindly providence might choose
To call me with such luck as I may use.

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

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Sonnets in Lyrical couplets–the gateway drug… Possibly?

Having recently discovered a sonnet in lyrical couplets by Kipling, [“When Fear Came,” I believe it is titled, in the 2nd “Jungle Book”] and having written one myself, albeit as a character rather than as myself, I was put in mind of the above possibility.  As such I would like to write a few more couplet sonnets.  But also….

I feel perhaps, I might write a series of sonnet like forms ranging from completely freeverse to completely structured.  I feel that in such a way one might bring someone along a bit toward realising that sonnets are not so very hard to understand.

Of course, even if they were, one may still have the experience of hearing one read aloud; for the sound itself, is quite beautiful even without full comprehension.  Still, sonnet form is relatively simple; and even if classical topical structure is maintained (e.g. a sonnet reading essentially:  “Consider this…  But wait, what about this?” this turn or ‘volta’ most often occurring at the ninth line but often delayed till the very last; and sometimes, though rarely, earlier than that) quite easy to understand.

I feel this sequence I describe in the second paragraph is a bit of “cheating” perhaps, because the first few examples would be quite easy to write; however, I have been wondering in what way I might reward myself for having passed my sixth month mark, and perhaps this might be fitting.   I cannot, for example, think of any further paid services at this time in which I would desire to engage; therefore, I am reduced to content related rewards, I fear!

Sonnet V: Colours

Here, these colours in secret dost thou touch;
Here, in reddest violet I thou pursue;
Yet only black as night, and yet as blue
That thou, my bright, my shadow, painted much.

And here, the spectroscopic span is such;
And here, chromatics some might misconstrue;
Unknown, such hues have painted far too few;
As whitest white is not so grey a crutch

To magnify protection’s light of worth.
And worthy light, prismatic as the sun,
Shall stream as bright toward golden compass points;
And venerable shades shall then unearth,
When newer hues are finally outdone,
Our touch as art–as colours–us, anoints.

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

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Sonnet III | Lyrical Love

The scrolls of words rolled like pathways of green,
Pattered little steps into a deep grove…
Through hawthorns, nettles, poison ivy, wove…
They weaved a song bladed in tangerine,
Slicing open with knives of sweet citrine…
Whispered on winds far, of some secret trove,
Ever coldly buried in the deep iced Nov’.
Does it exist, if ’twere not truly seen?

Thinking some treasure must surely exist,
On the traveler sailed through storms and gales.
Faced bravely the disorienting mist…
Repaired the broken mast and tattered sails.

When all the seas and forests searched, none missed,
Was it a pointless search of empty trails?

Sonnet III: Secret

For this thou speak, though doubtful would suppose,
Nor hesitate obliquely to confess.
Regarding friendship still, thou might obsess
Beyond all compass; thrill-swept, as the throes

Wherewith to cloy thyself so rapt, express
Thine own determined joy.  But not oppose
Desire desire‘s object might impose.
Conspired and familiar, this excess:

Unnamed delight, and wicked to implore,
This: framed–as though for art, or to explore,
Or greater havoc know–it would appear
Unleashed, a glow one nary could ignore
In life’s brief curtain: coy, intent, sincere
Thou wouldst covert revere; but not adore.

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

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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:

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