Sonnet: Kanaka

How Black, the hottest fires of Hell must burn;
So Hot, this Blackened Hell, must be its fires.
The spit on which impurity doth turn,
Would sear the flesh impurity requires.
Beyond repentance, punishment doth earn;
Yet ever, to impurity aspires.

So Hot the Sweetest Love, do we deny;
How Sweet, this Burning Love of ours, its taste,
Impurity were beckoned in thereby
To desecrate this altar we disgraced;
And cast away its sanctity, defy
This gift, as Heaven, each to us, hath graced.

How Sweet the Sin, which Strongly us befell
How Strong the Death which Blackened us… to Hell.

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Sonnet II: By My Love’s Sweet Words

By any song, in night, that dost thou sing,
If with thy lips shalt sing, my dearest one;
Or make to sing my soul, thy touch doth bring;
Or strong thine arms surroundeth, sing my heart.

And when doth sing thy smile, to heal, to rest;
And sing to fret the tyme away, undone
By song; yet still the finer am I blest
By music, by thy words, and by thine art.

But only thus, thy song shouldst bid me sleep–
Thy song, my shelter, sweep away the sun,
I beg of thee thy promised song, and weep
That shouldst thou hold mee fast, and ne’r us part

Until thy quiet fight–when hast thou won–
Requite the day, that thou expressed:  Depart!

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

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Sonnet I: Throughout All Time

Throughout, within, the night’s surrounding warm,
Distraught of daylight’s merciless advance:
One hand to touch, though trembling, my arm;
One smile’s joy, one smile’s graceful dance;

One kiss sustains, one kiss throughout the night;
One touch through daylight’s cruel and bitter sting;
One tear, upon one cheek, what solace might
It bring, that touch and smile and kiss would sing?

What voice? What dulcet tone, such golden song
Should sing? What arm to lay me down to sleep?
What sweet surround my head to hold? So long
A Night I need–and warm–a bed to keep

Me safe, perhaps, if substance I may bring;
And heal–perhaps, or not–if love I sing.

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

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This latest…

addition to a sequence, comes at rather a late hour, in more ways than one.  I have been preoccupied with a trip I am planning to take at the beginning of April, 2013–the first of such travel in quite a long while for me.  I found myself avoiding everything–including thought.  Still, tonight I had to see if I could push through it.  I am pleased to see that I am able to do so.  I have posted tonight’s entry which is now scheduled to go up on the 28th.  So the “addition” link will not be live until then.  The “sequence” link is good, but will not include the new entry until then.

The newest entry is a Reverse Spenserian with alternating rhyme at the first of the line–alternating similar sounds.  Plus a few internal rhymes as well.  The Reverse Spenserian scheme has a slowly metamorphosing rhyme sound scheme.  So each new rhyme is related to the last in some way.  And each alternative rhyme is related to its former by an addition of an ‘R’ sound added to the final vowel syllable.

Sonnet II: At Rest

At last, the dawn, in perfect form, I see
So formed, a positive reality.
Its purple state, its perfect choir, unveil
To shine, inspiringly, its song on me.

With form, and measure never void, it brings
A subtle mastery of the world it sings.
Without abash, I hear it tell a tale
Of majesty, and many more such things

Which burn with glory’s power, as they shine
Upon this shadow dappled world of mine.
My dreams are splendour, as they dance–prevail
With measure, and with form, and perfect line!

And dance I shall, as light–as mirrors bright
Reflect–avails, ’til dark, ’til death, ’til night!

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

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Why do the young man and I both love the dark lady?

I am, of course referring to Shakespeare’s sonnets. The most obvious element of the 154 sonnets has not been entertained. Perhaps this is because… I will not say it is due to the fact that no analysis of these sonnets has been performed by a poet. No, rather it is more possible that no poet or non poet, for that matter, has ever undertaken (as have I) to write a sequence of poems (and specifically sonnets) to himself.

Anyone who is familiar with me in the least will know that I tend toward long-winded explanations of subjects in which I am interested. However, here you will be disappointed. I will only state the following: Either first undertake the sequence I mentioned. Write yourself a sequence of poems–written from yourself as you are now, to yourself when much younger: a teen or a child perhaps.   It will help if they have the same form and perhaps would help more, for my purposes, if they were sonnets, but certainly, the more consistent structure, the better for this exercise. Write a sufficient number of them. Let us say… perhaps ten at the minimum. If you do this, you will know the answer to the question in the title of this article. You will not help but know the answer. Or if you are not willing to do this, you may read the next paragraph, but the answer will appear like speculation to you unless you have done what I ask.

The answer to the question is simply that these sonnets were all written by Mr. Shakespeare to his younger self. This renders both popular theories, one with merit, and one without, as incorrect. The first theory is obvious enough not to be stated, however it is that Shakespeare is writing to advise all young men, as there is no evidence of a particular young man whom he had befriended at the time the sonnets were written (during the plague, it seems, when he was all but “holed up” in his house and could not by law engage in his profession of staging his plays) the other theory is not worth a mention but marxists find one reason or another to promote it. Therefore I shan’t even justify it. It is without merit, and for more reasons than anyone is willing or able to state. Still… why not a message to all young men or a particular friend? His reference to the dark lady “that they both love” is the answer. But more than that there is no point in relating until you perform the exercise I suggest.

It is the simplest way to make the case (after which you should go back and read all 154 sonnets again.) Honestly. You will see that the ways in which someone speaks to his younger self are unique–are not, cannot be, those he would employ when speaking to anyone else. Try it. It will convince you! But, as I previously stated, all this will seem like supposition until you do as I ask.