I fell upon, particularly strange
These shores wherein I found myself marooned
Instead of somewhere infinitely light.
My voyage, it began capriciously.
And, though within it lives embedded form,
Possesses also an embedded soul.
Tag Archives: Writing
Sonnet IV: Heirs
Ye Gods: Ye Old and New, and Yet Unborn,
Ye need not climb with Armies of Your Own
To banish each corruption from its Throne;
But light from soul to soul, and each adorn
With Grace; and watch as true believers borne
Will magnify the knowing and the known
Until they have unnumbered billions sown.
And someday, to their young, will point and warn:
See there, my daughters and my sons, that stain
There, crawling nearly lifeless on our height?
Dare you believe it thought it had free reign
To tear down what was Beautiful and Right?
And all the youth will laugh, and never see
How such a foolish thing… could ever be:
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 4: If Only
I expected five. But for some unknown reason, four came before three, shortly after two. And that told the whole story. As well as five could. Reading them over, I sometimes see a fifth there, and sometimes I don’t.
Intro: Alright, I Take it All Back…
~~~ who ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~ are ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~ these ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ?
Intro 8: Through the Mirror
Would that a mirror
Could work in both directions,
From there, they see us.
Sonnet I: Thou Wilt
Wilt thou again experience this vain,
Delectable, self-referential ache–
This self-indulgence once again allow?
To thine shalt thou thy paradox awake
From sleep when hast thou found and felt this pain?
What timely melody, or importune,
Might interruption beg thee disavow?
But wake! Shout thy day! Though thy Words impugn
Themselves when once They leave thy lips; profane
Shall They be made by whips thou canst not quell;
The base shall scourge profane, an They endow
Them with thy Pearls, when swine, as swine, retell.
Though long remains the day thy Words to fade,
Sleep now, brief vigilance, not yet unmade.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 1: You Heard Me
I watched you grow strong
I reached out; with my right hand,
Felt your left shoulder.
I felt you touch me,
Take hold of my left shoulder.
I still feel you there.
I heard what you said,
And watched your words fly away.
I knew you heard me.
Now my words have gone,
Wrapped in the words of others,
But not completely.
David Emeron: Sonnets 