Sonnettics

Time for me to write another soliloquy sonnet. Just so you all know what I am working on today. I will post it when I am done. Shakespeare’s Macbeth is my target this time:

Act 5 Scene 5: Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow (Spoken by Macbeth)

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, 
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day 
To the last syllable of recorded time, 
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! 
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player 
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage 
And then is heard no more: it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
Signifying nothing.

Done.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and . . . Oh hell!
My time is unrecorded, not some word
Illuminated metaphors can’t tell
The feelings of today; they’re felt, not heard
Brief candles, walking shadows–not my way!
Go issue your command to those who hear
Such rhetoric’s a simple thing to say
Poor players, not the star, will strut in fear 
It’s true, the world’s a stage, so watch and learn
Don’t mix your metaphors with what you feel
No tale should make your heart believe or yearn
In utterance by idiots, unreal
If life has sound and fury, c’est la vie
Significance will be, so let it be!

I’m more than glad, they didn’t break my soul
To you that means I’m not a broken man
My body works, when under your control
I’ll follow every detail of your plan
I’ll need to be reminded, with a kiss
Sometimes when I get angry, like I do
Caress me, please, when I succumb to this
My anger leaves when I succumb to you
My soul is yours, connected to my heart
My body broke, but fixing it proceeds
To make you happy, or at least to start
Addressing all the preludes of your needs
My soul cannot be broken, like a bone
But still, it’s not complete when it’s alone.

My Dragonfly is beautiful and free
Her wings are filled with color, warm and bright
No rainbow is more beautiful to me
I want to be beside her, in her flight
She flies to where her beauty can be seen
By those who need such beauty in their lives
She’s more than just some pretty figurine
The angels fold their wings when she arrives
I can’t believe I found her, and she’s real
Eternity’s too short to understand
But I don’t need to wait for what I feel
It’s Love, within the hollow of my hand
I see her, and I feel her, and I know
My Dragonfly is mine; she’ll never go.

I want to make you happy every day
I want to wake to nothing but your kiss
I want to be the reason that you say:
“I’ve never felt my goosebumps quite like this.
Come take me now; this prelude needs to end!”
I’ll take you, and your goosebumps will conclude
The “little death” will triumph and extend
The pleasure of a well-timed interlude
Extending the expressions of my heart
By making love is what I want to do
Your goosebumps are the signal at the start
Of feelings when I’m all alone with you.
I want your happiness to be extreme
And making love with you, a waking dream!

A few more days, just us, we’ll be alone
Imagine how togetherness will be
No kids, no friends, no Internet, no phone
It won’t be hard to generate tranquility
Tonight was hard, we needed to amend
Our nervousness within each other’s arms
A few more days before we get to spend
Our time enjoying one another’s charms
The way a violin enjoys a note
When generated by a master’s hand
As if we knew the music that we wrote
Was charming, just the way we’d always planned
Just us, together, harmonizing love
Togetherness is all I’m dreaming of.

Your laughter makes me horny, even though
You laugh because I’m such an easy mark
I’m hungry for your skin; I think you know
Your teasing lights emotions like a spark
Emotions from my hunger for your flesh
Escape from me as if I’ve lost control
I never knew your laughter could refresh
Emotions set ablaze within my soul!
I love it when you tell me: “bring it on!”
Although I’m miles away, you know I’m hot
Don’t think that you can tease until it’s gone
The shower may be cold, but girl, I’m not!
So laugh away!  A few more days, you’ll see
Just what your sexy laughter does to me!

I’ll kiss you in the morning, when you wake
I want to be a part of what you dream
The love you give is all I want to take
Your love, so soft and warm, becomes my theme
In morning, when your eyes begin to shine
I want to be reality to you
My heart is yours; I want yours to be mine
From heart to heart, the love we share is true
My love is yours; it lingers in my heart
I feel your love; it touches me so deep
I long for days when we are not apart
Where memories are made, I’ll always keep
Like kissing you in morning, when you rise
And seeing precious beauty in your eyes.

They’re words; they’re not designed to hurt or heal
I know some people frankly disagree
But that’s their right.  I guess some people feel
That words are more than words.  I just don’t see
Why what’s not North is often labeled “South”
I know “The truth is what happened,” I heard
“It ain’t what come out of somebody’s mouth.”*
I see no reason to give things a word
I know some people think more words are best
They use them in ways that boggles my mind
They decide to get them off of their chest
They put them in books that no one can find!
Feel free to read these words I choose to write
But if you’re burned, my words did not ignite!

*Cormac McCarthy, All The Pretty Horses

There’s nothing to expect; the twist is vast
It doesn’t mark its emptiness; it turns
To shine upon the shadow that’s been cast
By light which can’t be seen; perception burns
Within its motions, everything is still
Without its complex formulas it shows
Invisible reactions, as it will
Wherever it’s rejected, there it goes.
To comprehend the twist is life’s design
It is just like an artist who’s insane
Creating freedom so it can confine
The beauty it can feel with joyous pain
To know there’s nothing, one must coexist
With everything which turns within the twist.

She sees the words that float around my head
I think they fascinate her precious heart
She calls me when the girls are tucked in bed
The miles are there, but we are not apart
The only reason that the words can float
is not because I chose to put them there
They want to be composed into a boat
They want to take her safely, everywhere
My soul is like an ocean, vast and deep
I know it can be dangerous as well
My dreams are islands, when I’m fast asleep
My poems are the dreams I want to tell
She sees my words; she feels them when I write
I may not be her dreamboat, but I might!