Tag Archives: Sonnets

380

I really almost die inside my sleep where the whiteness of squall and sea prevail as a gust of gulls swooped down and wassail in the salty air through which my thoughts leap. I crash in waves escorted by seaweed, … Continue reading

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379

Q: What does a king do on a snow day? A: Reign, beloved! What’s today’s mathematics? Understanding. Days with no dramatics but plenty of flair as our fears allay. I place more importance in the new day than in a … Continue reading

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378

I saw a man caress his father’s fate in a bar last week where raccoons did roam freely on fences while my wife did gloam about how men consume before they sate. I don’t know, I saw him almost fall … Continue reading

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377

Over him there sits a pall, resting dense despite the sun and sand of the tropics. He looks at the sea through clouded optics despite his tan skin, his body is tense. Kids throwing footballs near the wooden fence that … Continue reading

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376

Why spend all your time laboring over labor? Slaving away in your dark mind you forget you were once like the plover, spanning continents in patterns undefined. What happened to that flight? You took cover in a warm, sticky place, … Continue reading

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375

The stack of paper eternally grips my entire neck as I revise papers and I decline as my spirit tapers while beeswax falls as each candle drips on the bottle it is in. Purple strips of wax stretch themselves like … Continue reading

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374

An open mind is what the body seeks. Embodied wisdom is the truest form of life in nature’s panoramic swarm full of living things. My skin sweats and leaks as I jog around the track. My mind streaks back to … Continue reading

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373

A bright water ring on a black ash sky, stained gray by the twilight and streaked by cloud, guides me as I move away from the crowd which might make me suffer or make me die. The air is moist, … Continue reading

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372

The smell of sweat that pours from every pore, detoxifying flesh subject to work, a brief escape from life where guidelines lurk in every shadow and at every door. New England was my home for years before New Jersey, where … Continue reading

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371

The days pass by like daggers in the breeze while nights sink low into the muddy ground caressed by deer that stalk without a sound at dawn to eat the leaves that hang from trees. The sidewalks look yellow and … Continue reading

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