Sonnettics

Much more than just some actor on a stage
You’ll be a dad forever; that’s the truth
I’ll always find your timely wisdom, sage
A treasure that I found while in my youth

I love the wisdom that my father shares
He teaches me what strength and love are for
I know he isn’t perfect, but he cares
He gives me all he has, then gives me more!

I hope that I can be as sage as him
The Wise Old Owl in fatherly disguise
I hope such wisdom fills me to the brim!
I want to overflow with words so wise!

Such thoughts of you, forever make me glad
I’m happy for such thoughts, Forever Dad.

Forever Dad, read by Scott Ennis

*For my Father

I am a word, define me if you must
I’m just this guy who seeks to know himself
True, Thou art God, thus in thy word I trust
Your word and I are books upon a shelf

Come read me and define me, soon or late
Perceived, I come to be the guy I am
Though not to be might also be my fate
If you perceive me not, who gives a damn

The oracle at Delphi let me know
That I must know myself before I seek
To know the future paths I seek to go
The future words I want to write or speak

Perceive me not; I couldn’t give a damn
I’m just this guy you know; it’s who I am.

Life’s Peace is like a gentle, cooing dove
The Giver of Life’s gift can give Peace, too
Such Peacefulness of Life is filled with Love
Life’s Love is heard within the Peaceful coo

The Gift of Life is given, full and free
My thanks go to the Giver of this Gift
I’m glad for all the peaceful doves I see
They bring me hope that makes my spirit lift!

The hope of life resides in every choice
In every choice I make, I hope I’m right!
I love the sound of hope within my voice
It rises as the doves of Peace take flight

I love the Gift of Life that I’ve received
I’m thankful for the Peace that I’ve achieved.

(Originally entitled The Gift of Life) and posted on April 29, 2012.

The Gift of Life is given, full and free
My thanks go to the Giver of this Gift
I often like to fill it with esprit
It comes with hope that makes my spirit lift!

The hope of life resides in every choice
In every choice I make, I hope I’m right!
I love the sound of hope within my voice
It rises as the doves of Peace alight

Life’s Peace is like a gentle, cooing dove
The Giver of Life’s gift can give Peace, too
Such Peacefulness of Life is filled with Love
Life’s Love is heard within the Peaceful coo

I love the Gift of Life that I’ve received
I’m thankful for the Peace that I’ve achieved.

Two dolphins dancing above the blue bay,
So charming in their tandem arc through space.
Their romance proceeds, like a game they play,
Becoming lost in their mystical grace.

Felicity’s rapture goes on for miles,
Which may never be pinioned or restrained.
Though faint, forever is brought to their smiles.
Such happiness should at no time be chained.

Dark waters turn, twist, twirl and deeply scare,
Where looming disaster can take one’s breath.
They fight the crusade and then they take care
Of little love who must not come near death.

Struggle and sputter through down pouring rains,
Adoration still pumps in their warm veins.

That sonnet was written by a “student.” The following is an email dialogue I had with a this young lady who needed to write a sonnet. I helped her where I could, and I think she composed a beautiful sonnet about two dolphins. As you can see, she gave me permission to share our dialogue here so that others might learn from it. Thanks Arlayna!

(more…)

It’s dark and I am walking toward the night.
The streets are slick with rain and heavy mist
I only see reflections of the light
which blends into the asphalt, which is kissed
by songs too cheap and tawdry for the day,
whose melodies are flickering and cold.
And yet they’re loud enough to guide the way
into the dark of night, where I am told
that god no longer hears my footsteps fall
and I no longer care if god can hear,
because my soul has heard another call
that has no need of faith; it’s loud and clear.
It pierces me with certainty. My breath
is measured now. The call is simply death.

Minor changes.
First Published below on Nov 20, 2008

It’s dark and I am walking toward the night.
The streets are slick with mists and heavy sighs.
I only see reflections of the light
which blends into the asphalt, the reprise
of songs too cheap and tawdry for the day,
whose melodies are flickering and cold.
And yet they’re loud enough to guide the way
into the dark, the night, where I am told
that god no longer hears my footsteps fall
and I no longer care if god can hear,
because my soul has heard another call
that has no need of faith; it’s loud and clear.
It pierces me with certainty. ; My breath
is measured now. ; The call is simply death.

Confirm my hands again and let me hold
Your confirmation’s quintessential heat
Confirm my heart with tales of love retold
With words your confirmation would repeat
Address your love to me a silent vow
Semantic dissipation laced with tears
Stand closely by my window in the now
And tap upon the glass a thousand years
And I will watch your lamplight like a dream
That casts its glow upon my steady hands
To see your confirmation brightly beam
And echo shadows of my love’s demands
To touch the words my thoughts have long transgressed
And place my subtle tears upon your breast

First Published on: Apr 6, 2006

There are no words. The air, as thin as lines
composed of quintessential, distant dreams
is probably the path, devoid of signs
which flows beside our quintessential streams.
There are no words; The paths and streams converge.
A prophecy of silence draws me in.
Surrender is the quintessential urge
that marks the end where thus I can begin.
The words that form are beautiful and bright
like pearls and diamonds strung on silver thread.
They sparkle in the quintessential night
that quintessential darkness overhead.
And in the quiet birth of every word
a hint of quintessential faith is heard.

First published on: Jan 4, 2008 @ 21:17
(minor grammatical changes)

Tonight a small gray bird lay at my door
An omen in the way its feet were curled
It sang at dawn but won’t sing anymore
So, one more song is taken from the world
I wonder if god watched it as it died
Received its soul, its song, with loving grace
I wonder if the cat had been denied
If half the world would now be out of place
Irreverently, I kicked the bird away
To where it would be eaten by the ants
And only vaguely wondered when my day
Would dawn to such a common circumstance
I spent the night in quiet reverie
And stroked the cat which slept upon my knee

First Published on: Sep 16, 2008 @ 6:57

Her breath becomes her voice, becomes her song
The air becomes a beauty to perceive
She shapes it right where others shape it wrong
And silent doubts give way to just believe
My god, She pulls the life from where it starts
Directs it in its rise of fertile grace
True time becomes the Now Her voice imparts
It fills the barren void of empty space
Her song creates the world. Her song is joy
It resonates like something like a soul
Her song transcends devices some employ
Like simple mortal poets, less than whole
Her breath becomes Her voice, becomes Her song
Shaped right, eternal beauty all along.

Is this my life? It still seems so surreal
Who plans to turn reality to “sur?”
It’s just a word like blades are only steel
All words know how to split or else demur
My life depends on all that I perceive
Perceptions twist reality around
This volta is the sonnet I retrieve
Without my feet upon the solid ground
I guess I’m not a song; I’m just a turn
I’ve turned my life to rhythm and to rhyme
I’d turn it to a tree, but it might burn
I’d turn it to a rock, but that takes time
I don’t have time to understand the word
I guess that’s why “surreal” seems so absurd.