Sonnets

I write sonnets to hold myself together.

Tag: hobby

Thanksgiving Oolong Divination

Context — One Thanksgiving we tried to divine our futures using tea leaves. Sonnet 29, 11/26/09

 

When Giving Thanks, tradition to the wind!
A gathering of family from afar
surrounded saucer, cameras and grins
alight as tea is spooned to cup from jar.
The zodiac is banded ’round the rim
inside the teacup, fortunes each have space
that’s told when design is obscured, made dim
by laggard tea leaves floating off the base.
My christening attempt blacked moon and glove,
tarot holdovers kept for modern sage,
which foretold lack of passion, worthless love
and search for justice–challenge of my age.
Enjoying thoughts steeped in this platitude,
we’ve jumbled hopes and fears with gratitude.

Sonnet 17: Sonnet 0, Tardy

Context — little did I know how far I’d go when I¬†shared this in October 2009. It started as my first sonnet, but was finalized as my seventeenth. Looking back, it’s funny how loose I was with meter and syllable count.

 

What starts as a trick may yet soon become habit,
since finding an outlet for arts is no cinch,
I’ll arrest your inbox, I’ll grab it and jab it,
and stuff it with letters without but a flinch.
Quotidian basis for writing these beasts,
should prove most sufficient to bellow the fires,
a Muse rising upwards within me, like yeast
that climbs without climbing, its aims always higher.
When with time I’ll stack words, acknowledging blessing
with meaning and mystery, equal in measure
but maintain the sonnet, change only its dressing
(the meter) but never its iambic pleasure.
Who knew that a draft that lingered half-complete
would become the hobby I’ll never delete?

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