Sonnettics

I still remember Mari’s Riesling kiss
and how she taught my legs to run a race
I want to give my Mari more than this:
a memory of pain upon my face.
She saved my life when I was almost dead
I needed her and she was there for me
She curled herself beside me, in my bed
and cried some tears that I would never see.
My Mari’s beauty haunts my sweetest dreams
I miss my Mari now; she’s far away
but every day I talk to her, it seems
that she remembers everything I say.
I love her words and love their sound, their flow:
“I love you more than you could ever know.”

My lust is still an infant in her arms
It suckles when it’s hungry, at her breast
She gives it hope by using all her charms
Within my lust my love for her’s expressed
I still recall the day it was conceived
We gave ourselves to fertile intercourse
Our wants were filled and almost every need
responded to her strong maternal force
My lust will grow as long as she will keep
her tender arms around its tiny form
I love it when she rocks my lust to sleep
or deviates my lust from every norm
My lover is the only one I trust
to hold within her arms my infant lust.

I need what I have lost; a part of me
was stripped from my possession, like the trees
that lie within the clear cut, blasphemy
of nature, like a crippling disease
I didn’t choose to die or to be born
Free agency allows me right or wrong
But god can choose to prick me with a thorn
or say the trees are down, where they belong
I wonder if the forest is in pain
When trees grow back I wonder if it’s glad
I hope the forest doesn’t have a brain
to try to reason out why I am sad
A forest without trees is just a field
But I have seeds and I will never yield.

I wish I had a name to give my pet
a name that only I can use with her
It should be something sweet; she won’t forget
Each time I use it, something will occur
By “something” I am picturing her lips
they’re beautiful and moving t’ward my own
and if, perchance, the name I give her slips
when kissing her, I’ll know I should have known
Her name, within my mouth, beside her tongue
becomes the way I taste her love; it’s more
than I have ever felt; I’ve just begun
to feel her name within my very core
The sound associated with the name
entices her and makes me feel the same.

Complete, the way is dark; the sky is wet
They call it night and rain; their words are short
Remembering their sounds, the minds forget
like separating bullet and report
The pain is fast; the melody is slow
but no one cares when exit holes appear
They call them words that everyone can know
and poetry is formed of all they fear
Complete, the house is empty, nerves contain
the consequence of medicine, the doors
can only open when the minds retain
the shapes of keys and everyone abhors
the words that make all meanings seem complete
and every mind is burned by meaning’s heat.

If Grace could save my soul, I’d let her be
I like my soul and want it to endure
forever, and I want the world to see
if Grace can save my soul when it’s impure
I know the world is dirty; I don’t care
The hearts and eyes of filthiness can view
my soul’s salvation through the filthy air
when Grace is burning wood and garbage too
As smokey Grace is choking me, I seethe
I’m saved, but I can only walk and cough
I used to run; I used to freely breathe
Until I bedded Grace and felt her scoff
at everything I thought salvation meant
My money, like my time, was poorly spent.

Thanksgiving day is over and I’m full
of turkey, taters, stuffing, pumpkin pie
I’d hate to be the one who has to pull
my wagon with me in it, my oh my!
I like Thanksgiving, but it’s not the best
There is a day that’s better in the year
Thanksgiving is okay from east to west
and yet a better day is almost here!
The day is called Thanksgetting. Yeah! You bet!
I’ve heard some call it christmas; that sounds lame
Thanksgetting is the day that I can get
whatever toy I want, whatever game
Thanksgetting morning comes and I can see
my presents under my Thanksgetting tree!

Afraid of who I am, I try to hide
Afraid that I might find myself, I turn
to that which I’ve avoided, deep inside:
Emotions in my psyche, where I learn
that what I feel for others is a part
of where my brain is bruised, of where I go
to tell myself I really have a heart
although it hurts that I don’t really know
And so I feel a loss that makes me sad
It turns upon itself, consumes the bulk
of everything I feel I could have had
I cry; I rub my eyes, and then I sulk
I cannot hide my tears, they’re on display
regardless of the pain I wipe away.

I kiss the neck of Gwyneth, off the screen
and know my lips have found the middle place
My mouth descends to taste the flesh between
her breasts, then move above to kiss her face
Three kisses, Gwyneth, starting with your neck
are worth more than a story on a stage
If Shakespeare tried to write it, I would wreck
the Globe and every word on every page
I do not hate the Bard, but I can see
not even Shakespeare’s words are worth the kiss
on Gwyneth’s skin, like petals feel to me
when I imagine roses look like this:
Like Gwyneth in a dress that’s like a vase
which holds a beauty nothing can replace.

Dismiss me now; convenience says you must
Don’t let the neighbors know of how you love
a horny schoolboy, lost in passion’s lust
be cruel to me by accusations of
some indecisive sonnets; mock my verse
I don’t deserve you lover; I’m not whole
My body broke; my brain was broken worse
when I collided with a car, my goal
to please my Ali broke as well, it seems
I can’t believe you kissed my mouth again
Your kisses and your love devolved to dreams
My Love Forever must have missed you then
Forgive me Ali for the wrong I’ve done
I love you Ali, and I love our son.