Stories tagged sonnet

Two Anniversary Sonnets

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First SeenI think I tried the crossword puzzle first,gave up, turned on the air, had Chex® and popthat didn't do enough to quench my thirst.My stomach turned as we began to dropand I rushed to belt in and sit straight, dryas twine, and just as taut. Man, I was tight!I was…

We Settle In

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For Mother's Day 2005I plop upon the bed. My foot is sore.You change into your jams and grab a book.We settle in. A scratching at the doorand I stand, let the cat in, and head backto bed. I settle in. We don't have waters.You rise and bring your glass around the bedand take…

Trimming the Tree with Isabella, Two

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First off, the tree is crooked. Down I goto struggle with four sappy, rusty screwsthat will not budge. Outside, the dusky snowcollects upon the porch. My daughter chewsa clear bulb, disembodied from its string.“Do you want glass inside your mouth?” I…

Gasoline

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Her hair’s the color of LA at night On such occasions when the Santa Anas Have left the hills bone-dry and burning bright

Recipe for the Broken

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This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.

Ready to Go

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Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my…

Gracious Have Been My Years of Late

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Gracious have been my years of late; The windy drifts blown soft. Truth be told, such luck seemeth bait Eliciting doubts and wonderings.

Sonnet: Blood Kin

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"You mark my word: he'll put her on a bus back home one day. . ."

...is closed

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… is closed Now Drake Hughes was a swell welcoming manAnd Ann, his wife, had Freudian issuesOne day by the well with knife and a planAnn, sweet-sweet Ann, became sweet widow Hughes.Now Drake was a fake, but a welcoming guyHis…

Bodhi

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For we sit together, deeply drinking/thirsting after naught but peaceful thinking.

Mythos

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Becoming truer heroes on our own.

First sonnet

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Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta

Sonnet of Magicicadas

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Like honey drips, like notes of a sonata come, Like a chrysalis is made and then abandoned, Like the bed of a river widens over years-- Slow, slow is how my love is meant to reach for you.

Dream Sonnet

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Last night I dreamt of water rose too high.

Pounds of Flesh

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"...the connection between sex and the metaphor..."