Intro 1: Held

Shall not be love that
Doth wherewith I now sustain?
And this, forever.

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Sonnet IV: Watchers

Then in beauty and truth, the believers,
Lo!… Shall behold as you conjurers burn.

Though our innocence used as a weakness,
Still… in the end it has helped us prevail;
Although twisted to apathy’s bleakness,
‘Til… we invited your jealous betrayal.

But the Knights of the Copybook Headings
Show… that our apathy caused you to win;
We will never forget that beheadings,
Though… were the wages of this kind of sin.

That you dogs had your day, none may qualm.  It’s
Sure… but they’ve chased you back into the mire;
So, return to your pestilent vomit,
Or… we will cast you back into the fire.

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

Intro 4: Hope

I wanted to see it:
It was what I desired to become
Shall I Dare Hope that…

Sonnet III: Builders

So we live in a world that is better
Thus… and we live as all men ought to be.
It was done without deigning to fetter
Us… They have done it by setting us free.

And while man, a creator of beauty
Will… be compensed that his beauty may bloom;
But, the man who makes ugliness duty
Still… gains employment (by pushing a broom.)

And a man who will strive to build greatness,
Too… Shall be striven his greatness to build.
While his ugliness, failure, and hate, thus,
Who… shall be swept into labour, unskilled.

Run in fear! All is lost! You deceivers!
Know… The Romance, of these Knights, does return!

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

Intro 3: Duty

What if one’s duty
Was in truth and in beauty.
Can you let me know?

What if the very
Final, extraordinary
May well overflow?

Sonnet II: Custodians

But they managed their deeds without casting
Down… as you wretched will usually try.

They have made exaltation their duty;
Men… they shall cleanse of your odious taint.
They have filled our museums with beauty,
Then… they discarded your splatters of paint.

They have tossed out your volumes of garble,
Not… fit for lining the cage of a skunk.
They’ve exalted our beauty in marble
Wrought… when they crushed all your piles of junk.

And your music and verse is forgotten
Guff… with its horrible discordant clash.
They’ve divested the Earth of that rotten
Stuff… when they threw out the rest of the trash.

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

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