Tag Archives: sonnet

Trying to Sleep? Here’s a sonnet

Another older poem – I’m not certain, but it may actually be the first sonnet I ever wrote. I think it’s quite¬†appropriate considering how hard it can be to fall asleep when all the delightful stresses of school and life just keep coming at you…

The place I find the world’s most useless space
is in the void that forms inside my head
when I, too late a-bed, still hide my face Continue reading Trying to Sleep? Here’s a sonnet

The Friend Spectrum

I only wrote a single poem this week – a poem about friendship. I was musing about what makes a friend, and how friendships come to be, and it just kind of morphed into my go-to format: a sonnet. Funny, really, because I had a conversation about friendship just the day after. How it’s so hard to tell when it starts, and how it’s so hard to know when friendship begins and when it ends.

Friend

What point decides that you become my friend?
I think about the spectrum, grey and long
where strangers overflow at one lone end
and good companions opposite belong
yet know not where the shift of int’rest lies
and whether time or distance or mere looks
contribute to the shift that always tries
to captivate more souls into shared nooks
It seems so artificial in a way
that I should know you and that you’d see me
For I judge easy, though my every day
is struggling just to let each person be
Yet if who you are stretches to this end
it seems that you somehow become my friend

M.
Oct 15/15

“I Love You Dark”

My love’s not pure nor glorious as the day
As dark and coarse as skin is fair and bright
It shines, but without light to guide its way
Not holy or of perfect, lacy white
It clads itself in simple, dirty scabs
In scars and bone and curling, muddy hair
My pulse it quickens and my hear it grabs
Without decorum, rules, or playing fair
As old as earth, as dark as dawn is light
It twists and writhes; it shudders like the frost
My love is neither perfect nor alright
But hard and dark and all too eas’ly lost
My love is simply man and shades of skin
So dark they mold this golden heart within

M.
May 13/15

The Narrow Path

I wander and the world speaks not my name
I look upon the brooks, content with light
And laughter; and the sea by man untamed
Sits, and the sky though slightly marred is bright
But as the world rests I my feet urge on
In rhythms better regular than right
Still seeking, for to heaven I am drawn
Where envy, ever dark, will lose the sight
That sees the stones ahead more loved than I
And trees above my head much more content
Bright birds more blessed in their fertile sky
And beasts upstanding where my back is bent
For though this road is hard I’d rather stay
Upon the narrow path than from it stray

M.
written Jan 30/15