Author Archives: urbansonnets

Golden hands and a noble heart, the spaceyou inhabit is fair and fresh – just asa gentle rose garden’s breeze in the facewakes all senses from sky blue to green grass:You are a panorama of sweet light, suffusing all landscapes with your candidspar… Continue reading →

The golden street lights and trumpet blares spreada triumphant swagger over the nightdespite its darkness, in spite of the headfigures in charge of the deafness and light:I just count seeds, and sometimes eat them too, under the wing of blinding p… Continue reading →

In the future you will be a regentof your own domestic space and worldview -you’ll sing from up under the tides of youth,raising them to crash splendidly against:Walls, boundaries, corners that project angles in shadow, under the crisp, square moo… Continue reading →

I see you: blazer, shaking wall-shadow,a wisp of hair springing forth so wildlywhile utterly still – now there’s a meadow,and you are there, singing to a daisy:Now a table, and light, and beer, and hope, and my head is spinning from the approachof… Continue reading →

There’s a mask on my face, I mean, a scarfthat I’ve placed there to push my face aside,inside the textures of manmade thread-turf,and I’m baring my soul from the inside:And only on the inside, only there – they can’t see from without, they can’t l… Continue reading →

Singing from the void, the voiceless uttera crystal sea of meaning with wavesthat reflect the clearest blue and stutterendlessly above the structure of staves:In the outside meanings are fluid-like, turning to vapors under the bright lightsof hist… Continue reading →

Tomorrow begins anew every day,and it menaces new thoughts of failure;but I keep waking up for the replay,and each instant gets deeper, “more-pressure”:But then I laugh and smell the lavender, look at the flame over the purplish mass–this dream’s… Continue reading →

I feel the currents roaming in my head;I’m a good person, but the waves keep oncrashing against the walls, crashing insteadof lapping or flooding through to the dawn:Which is fine, I guess – I do like the sound of crashing waves, of passing days l… Continue reading →

Mischief is often a necessitywhen things are seeming too structured and fixed,and the face needs to smile and smirk wryly,and one’s cultural spectrum is unmixed:I mean, the colors, that is, the color — the blending together of distinct hues,so th… Continue reading →

I have a dream and a vision I justcan’t collect – so I’ll try to write it out;I’ll make my breath pause to feel as I must,and the words will flutter as I breathe out:Here goes: I see the sun trace down the sky, itself, I mean, in the gentle azure:… Continue reading →