Tag Archives: God

Sonnet: Truth Unquantifiable

Posted by David Emeron on

When life has given all Her many gifts;
Whenever can the measure of these things;
Those gifts alike to paupers and to kings;
The very blessings, all, that spirit lifts;

Be counted up among the many rifts
And twists, and turns; and bold accounting springs
Forth only optimistic numbers? Brings
The news in harmonies and umbers. Shifts

The essence of attention to the day
For which this great accounting brings its news;
And which a man, forgetting not to pray,
Will promise Her he never shall abuse,
In truth unquantifiable, the way
He finds himself inspired by Her muse.

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Sonnet: What Flows

Posted by David Emeron on

Magnificent, the world in which my life
Resplendent lives–the place I yet reside–
I have no thoughts of leaving. Thus I hide,
Perfection so deceiving; and the strife

I see is that which I desire; so rife
With excellence, as may inspire and guide,
As flowers of evil, peacefully subside;
Maleficence benevolently siphoned

Out, bequeathing uncorrupted beauty.
Stout perfection cracks and shatters when
I travel not abroad, as is my duty
To this perfect place, and stills my pen.

Lest, wretched with sublime I must conflate,
How stale then, the world I must create.

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Intro: A little too “dead-leaf”-ish

Posted by David Emeron on

I watch the crazy
lady yelling at the desk
clerk; The couple fighting two

booths away; The paranoid
schizophrenic handling both
sides of the conversation; The

beggar demanding change;
and
the best of everything, that

I crave, that I prefer, that I gather
up and
take with me.

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Sonnet: Humility

Posted by David Emeron on

Wherefore hath gone Humility, this Gift
That God hath given thee, that thou wouldst cast
So easily aside? Away so fast
His pearl hath been asunder set adrift

Therein; from thee this place so deep and vast
Must hide.  So precious, thou hast thrown so swift
Away His all-forgiving Shrift, ‘twould lift
Ye all together and astride.  Thou hast

His Spirit sore forsook, Thyatrian,
His word mistook, His boundless grace undone
And misapplied.  Who then art thou who tried
His Grace–Galatian, His Gifts replace–
When to and through the law His Son hath died?
Yet still shall He forgive and thee embrace!

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Sonnet II: Evil Orb

Posted by David Emeron on

I will not see, I cannot know, nor feel;
I may not hear, nor taste, and no aroma
Will I sense, nor trace of joy, of home
Or mirth of soul or peace, nor can I kneel

In silent prayer, ending this ordeal.
It presses with the weight of stars, this dome
Of light, this hellish sphere of music, gloaming
Not, nor offering reprieve to heal.

And canst thou truly think thou art a blessing,
Evil orb, so frighteningly loud?
Thy cruel intention hard upon me pressing;
Burning death, in state, without a shroud;
Canst not thou see the lie thou dost profess;
With neither dusk, nor mitigating cloud?

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

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