Author Archives: urbansonnets

I’m giddy, back like I never left it;early or later I was destined tocome and give back to the ancient spiritof calm, clean, contented and fiercest you:I mean me, I meant “History” in quotes, and capitals, chattel, cattle and fees,charged against … Continue reading →

Mumps on the side of my face, I mean neck,as I span the distance from Greece to Spain,when I crunch the page but turn back to checkif the heroes inserted feel the pain:Like Alexander, I have gone too far, from Macedonia, to France, Spain, Persia,y… Continue reading →

I just saw the face of defeat two times,not my own, of course, but one more tragic,fixed in the heart of this land, its laws, crimes,and credos: therein lies the black magic:More frankly, there is a status panic, amongst the nominal “joes” that co… Continue reading →

A small milestone achieved in this high art,turned street, made rubble, across the spectrum,different hues of reconstruction that dart,in and out of time, space, from the rostrum:That is, I dissert, dissect from a mount so raised, that I’m really … Continue reading →

To stand is to remain, to unveil time,To reveal the folds underneath the smooth,Flowing wood of the spot, you skipped the line,And you towed it toward the hint of new truth:In sonnet form, the joy between the lines, The depth of every breath taken… Continue reading →

I feel and take in beauty so deeply, That I don’t know whether I should resent Or represent it. Or read it neatly, And write an analysis to present: At conferences of studious niggards, Of “culture”—quote, unquote—though it’s different, When you r… Continue reading →

Gray morning, gray glove, gray presence, gray love, Good timing, great colors—green gray contrast, And the day slinks on down from up above, But the sun sleeps ‘neath the cloudy ballast: I really do feel that this describes me, But the sun is my m… Continue reading →

The window opens as if by design, And the breezes trickle straight through the screen, With a sincere desire to confine The haughty spirits of a heart so mean: While furious thoughts rework the mindframe, In which an imprint stood of time so real,… Continue reading →

I’m a peninsula in an ocean Of salty currents and bloody noses, And the taste of blueness, brine and roses Lingers and halts the uvular motion: It just dangles there, swelling and shrinking, According to how sick I get—too much! Sometimes, I want … Continue reading →