I start them out bad,
And then they get even worse.
Youth drained by the young.
Tag Archives: Sequence
Sonnet II: His Gift
Near every effort I express is less
Than what is necessary to survive;
Yet, I remain ironically alive
Although my work is not enough to bless
My life. But why then shall I acquiesce
To strife when all around me is the live,
Unending truth that I can still revive
My worthless Plod. To see within this press,
My worthless God has gifted me the tool
Of nothing; still, the only gift He has
To give. And I, His ever steadfast fool,
Must live within these scenes! I think that as
I die inside, these means I come to see:
That one thing God Himself has given me.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
Intro 2: Sad
Sad it went, back then;
I yet could not see His light.
I knew, once I saw.
Sonnet I: It Comes
If ever I could spare a minute’s time,
I might enjoy a moment of the day.
A place where I might be forgotten, pray,
That I might run from here, or even climb
A mountain far away. Not Reason, Rhyme
Nor Deities could sway, nor could one pay
The world’s unyielding, universal clay,
That time should not be stolen. Such a crime
Continues on, beholden to no man,
With cruel impunity–continues on
Its prurience, as only Satan can–
And gives the poet grist to mill upon:
To sow, and reap, and dream of sweet release,
And then to sleep, and dream of death, and peace.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
Intro 1: 1984
1984…
A lot had been going on.
What a wild year.
Sonnet V: Inscribed Elegy
The gentle rain, as gentle notes, inscribe:
A mourning song for images withdrawn;
A pleasing elegy to moments gone;
Or passing fancies, never real. Describe
The rain, and gentle airs will drift to mind:
The dreaming sounds of feeling; river songs,
A never ending symphony, in throngs
Of sound, imbibing, then, of rivers winding
Endlessly about the morning light;
Entwining dewy havens of the heart;
And mountains of a mighty spirit’s height,
Transfixing grateful captives of its art.
How beautiful the rain and music are,
That take us into paradise so far.
- To my friend Jena:
So that you may remember
How I love the rain.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet IV: I Know
My love will come to me from far away
So every minute closer to this day
Will pass me like an hour or a year
But God I count them down from tear to tear
And write my silly words I may not show
Where driven by my faithful car I go
And faster than the wind to him we skim
But God I wish that I could write like him
If you could see the lovely things he writes
Excites and then ignites and then delights
And if you read them then your tears would fall
But God I really get to read them all
I know it as I skim the cytochrome
He came across the stars to bring me home
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 