Tag Archives: Sonnet

August 30, 2023 · 8:36 pm

Sonnet For The Digital Age

That we who have become so enlightened

To place a mind into machines would first

Use this power (of which we should be frightened)

To animate naked people is cursed.

We’ve woven tales: losing jobs to robots

And our humanity to gigabytes,

Thinking humans will become the have-nots

And electricity will off our lights.

But in creating technical wonder

We have revealed a deeper part of us:

Our minds divert from the wealthy’s plunder

To the size of robo-ladies cy-busts.

Artificial intelligence kills not:

Instead, it lets us chase electric thot.

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June 7, 2023 · 8:23 pm

Why People Don’t Write Sonnets Anymore

As the auburn sunrise comes to settle

O’er the rocky hillside by the pine tree

Two boys compete to test th’others mettle

And by “boy” we mean those who cannot biologically experience pregnancy

And we do acknowledge that some who can experience pregnancy do identify as boys

And some who cannot do not identify as boys, but as ceilings

And then they hit each other with their Star Wars episode XXVIII toys

And were told “No D’CarsenIsabellaLiam”, which hurt their feelings

So their parents apologized, whether

Or not that was the thing for them to do

And they sang “Hail to the Chief” together

As the auburn sunset signaled curfew.

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July 1, 2022 · 9:27 pm

Sonnet For A Washcloth

Textured washcloth in a pastel color,

I love how my skin you exfoliate.

You make my oily skin look so duller;

For your great glory, I extoll ye, mate!

When I am lonely and in a great need

Of very crude and masculine release

I need no manual to for to read

To help you bring me to a restful peace.

You cost so little, less than fifty cents

And you loyally last my whole life long;

Textured pastel washcloth, I ask you whence

Did you become so grand, forever strong?

You are more than just a cheap toiletry;

You, my washcloth, are the best part of me!

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April 5, 2021 · 6:57 pm

A Sonnet For When Your Vegan Girlfriend Puts You In The Doghouse

How soft the calling of the rose in bloom;

Its rage not diminished by its small size,

For it has seen a man deliver doom

With not a drop, remorseful, from his eyes.

The rose who screams has seen its brothers fall,

Cleft and tied as trinkets for a hot date.

It cries without lungs, giving it its all,

Petals in bloom, show’ring it foes with hate.

Then red and white and pink and gold align

Together in the vengeful rose’s song,

A harmony unheard by humankind

Until they are a dozen voices strong.

Then weep! The florist ends their final day.

Aren’t you relieved I brought you no bouquet?

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November 6, 2020 · 8:58 pm

See, I Can Still Write Sonnets!

If I had good fortune to get bit by

A radioactive beast of some kind

And gained a superpower related

Here’s what superpower comes to my mind:

I would be bitten by a human dad

Of a small child, aged between three and five

And gain power to really steal noses

From any human who is now alive.

I would wander town to town in a mask

And say, “Got your nose” to a passer-by

And see the annoyance turn to shock when

They see that what I said is real, not a lie.

Then I’d put their nose back and fly away.

I think that would really make someone’s day…

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June 28, 2020 · 11:00 am

Faith, Hope, and Love

Faith, hope, and love are good things He gave us,

From His bright temple so high up above,

Hoping that our faith in Him would show us

That the greatest of these many is love.

I’ve met women named both Faith and Hope though

And hoped to find a faithful love with them,

And hope for Hope and faith in Faith did grow

Though faithful love I hoped for would not stem.

But sometimes for what you hope and you pray

Are not what faith intended at that hour;

Sometimes what seems like hope misplaced may say

That patience can be full of wondrous power.

So here I am, my faith tested before

Still hopes your love is still worth hoping for.

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March 24, 2019 · 6:23 pm

The Four Elements: A Modern Myth

In the domain of clouds and bursting sun

Lived Lychlorida, daughter of the sky.

In thermals and in tailwinds she’d run,

A sister to all birds and things that fly.

In green and blue and black oceans and seas

Lychlorida sent rain to her brother,

King of water, born of a river breeze,

The second child of their divine mother.

Beneath ocean and sky, sister enflamed,

Deity of fire where the earth’s plates grind,

Asked why only Lychlorida was named

(Although she found she really didn’t mind).

And last, on Earth, the fourth child, king of stone

Knew none of this; He just played on his phone.

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October 8, 2016 · 10:18 pm

Sonnet: How It Feels To Not Log Onto Facebook For 48 Hours

As the stars align in the Summer sky,

As one century turns into the next,

So do we give thanks Bruce Jenner’s a guy

And people still call when, tempted, they might text.

We’re thankful that the world is small and flat,

That European powers rule it all.

Perhaps above all else we’re thankful that

No team would play with a deflated ball.

Yet as we smile, gratef’ly reminiscing

We dream of a future where a black man

Can be elected president, dissing

The establishment, saying “yes we can.”

And so we sleep comfortable in our world

Never suspecting it could be unfurled.

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September 25, 2012 · 9:54 pm

Life and Pain

Think back to your birth, whenever that was.

You cannot remember it, so I’ll help.

You came into this world in blood, because

That’s how nature works, and you gave a yelp.

 

You were spanked by a doctor, and you cried.

Most people were suitably indifferent.

But if not for hurtful things, you’d have died.

Now I hope that, to you, life looks different.

 

Every person in your world’s a doctor.

They hurt you, and pull you from your mother.

But all of them, life to you do proctor;

Treat them not badly, but as a brother

 

Life comes in many forms to us, so smile.

Joy lasts forever, pain but for a while.

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August 4, 2012 · 9:45 pm

Meaning

Hark, as this sonnet rolls across your screen,

The day unfolds before you, like thick screens.

Unless you read this sonnet at night, seen

By your eyes through darkness,without sun’s sheens.

 

And as you finish the first stanza here,

You visualize both day and night, yes.

Perhaps you drink some milk, or perhaps beer.

Perhaps you instead visualize chess.

 

Whatever sites and sights your mind goes to,

You will most certainly agree that it

Ventures there so willingly, unless you

Have a mind that decided to just sit.

 

But no matter what you find, here my call:

This sonnet is about nothing at all.

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