The Final Frontier
One, regrettably, I am
Denied in this life.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Sonnet I: Evil Will Die
Shall any reach the stars when no man may?
And who shall lift ye when the rest are gone?
Believe ye he’ll continue, at your sway,
To trust it’s ye from whom his strength is drawn?
What lie is this? What price is added on
To that, with blissful ignorance, his gifts
Have paid? Dare shriek that hand should carry on,
Betrayed, when ye have cursed it while it lifts
Ye from your caves. The mind who guides it drifts
In lofty space. And when it dreams, it keeps
Ye from your graves. The laws of God it sifts,
With all His grace, yea, even as it sleeps.
Yet now, lies still, until your evil dies–
At rest, until ’tis safe to touch the skies!
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet XII: Visions
…No mere illusion could be ever still
But substance make it soar when once begin
Its dances and its songs as once were thine;
Transfixing, once, existence all therein
That once revolved about my wish to kill,
And to protect; and otherwise confine
Such evil as would do thee harm, or sin
Against thee in this fragile world of mine–
To fight ’til all were vanquished by my will.
Thy safety then to mine own safely bound,
No more such evil thee should ever bind–
So not a moment more thy pleasure blind.
Ne’er once thy dance, nor song, nor sweetest sound,
When all is well, might fail to ever thrill.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet XI: Here and Now
Here, have I come: to know thy voice, to thrill
At every timbre, to rejoice my sin,
The very amber of my choice. For mine
Is all perfection, comfort, and goodwill.
And, have I known: to rest, to sleep. Therein
Shall I in thee my comfort keep. Confine
Should I to me thy tears to weep. Begin,
Do I to quell the fears that each of thine
Own quited years might never hope to kill.
Now, am I come: to decimate thy blind
Illusion. And, have I known: all thy sound
And furied Confusion. Here, do I bind
All hope no faith nor charity hath bound.
Celerity is stopped–and rested. Still…
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet X: Fell
Fell to Love, fell to beauty, fell to lore,
Fell to dance, fell to music; fell to whose
Enthral, embrace, encapsulating muse
Who gave, who held, who sheltered me, who swore
This oath to any failing excuse.
And fast was sealed, unbreakable before
A moment passed, this oath to me adore–
Adore, allow, and compromise refuse
To grant, to sanction; not in war, nor peace,
Nor gravity, nor passion, nor caprice;
In every moment, promised to hold true;
In every second, took me deep into
A distant land where none could me pursue–
So taken by a grasp that cannot cease.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet IX: Trapped
No choice for me to sanctity refuse
Nor hesitate to tenderness adore;
Too long had I such reticence before
My failing-fast reluctance to excuse.
No choice to make; regard the choiceless muse–
That love to which in helplessness I swore.
No choice to take, no helpless choice, the lore
Whose wonderment would grant me solace, whose
Enthral would thrall me with her soft caprice,
Whose warming shield would warn me then into
Whose fate and fatelessness I would pursue.
But now, to cease the hold its hold would cease,
And nary muse nor swear an oath to peace,
My heart will sing its praises to be true!
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 9: That Which Tested Me
All is done
And all is finally here
That none may leave his fate
When fate would take such form.
David Emeron: Sonnets 