Clothes strewn about a decorated floor, As keys were thrown, and door was left ajar. As hands, from limbs, in haste, our garments tore. The bed was near, but we ne’er made it far. The table was closer (or would suffice) And hunger had so beckoned us to dine. I’d known her taste, and it could so entice Me to devour her again. Then she, mine. But nights bear brief pleasant pleasure lasting, As mornings show a contrast rather stark. The interim will see us pleasure fasting, So for now, her lips leave a token mark. A kiss on the collar, just to be cruel, For it is lust that I am a fool.
Category: Sonnets
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A Kiss on the Collar
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The Regal Seafare
At Regal Seafare’s crossing, we find drink, For ailing needs, loathsome deeds, want reprieve From sailing life’s duress, nearest brink, After seeing what the eyes scarce believe. For mired with battered care, salty stare, And tired from voyage, kempt tattered and chapped, The spirit shrill, tested will, ne’er we dare New world without seeing what we have mapped. So dock, we ought, ourselves for naught but fun As Portland Variety crowns us Kings, Anchor weighed, pleasure stayed, sated and done; We learn what yearned respite from life may bring. Life’s asail, to full avail, amid the chore With drinks well poured, King inshore, from bar adored.
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Had I to Pick a Truth
A feignèd, wanton lie that favours fault: I am a man prone to adoration, For beyond adore, one seeks to exalt, And speak sweet aroma’d admiration. Wherefore to adore breathes alife to praise, And lifts adorèd one to starred esteem. Such idols see to fools a worship’s daze; And so this man a fool to one agleam. Yet, stars I see to simply be past’s glow, And words of praise be but the veil of leer. It is today, as all days, speak to know I must, and not to feign, but to be clear: Faults worth favour ar’n attractive feature, For alike me, you’re no special creature.
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I shall Remain
Pay love with time unto this costly friend; My time and love I forever invest. I must endure this pain until an end, A must; I bring upon myself; unrest. No lack of time you give to others then, And must I see you love in endless spree? With no return to I or final when, Of time and love; a waste, from I to thee? But if belief was eyed upon thy face, And see in time, of time, a time unseen, A timeless sea aflood with love’s embrace, My love returned, to halt this null routine. Eternal time I spend, I am insane. A friend I must be. Friend: I shall remain.
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A Light to Pine
And why unto the dawn my mind is made? For Sunnied gaze bids mind enough to see Where darkness now with heart cannot evade, And reason sets me off to find to be. And know I am to be, and reason: act, With Heart abyssal seeking to emote, Alight with rays from which I may abstract: From Heart, defend with what I can denote. But, does the heart intend for cruelty fraught? Emotion hath but purest feeling formed. And feeling then the purest form of thought, It would the mind do well to be so warmed. Yet may the heart to think the mind aflame, It is the mind to know the sun’s acclaim.
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Trust
What beauty thy betrayal is unknown more, And deceit: friendship not I rather know, With both, I have known qualms and to abhor, But both, I am not without my share bestowed. How indifferent such my deceit has been And such deceit against me twice the knife, Moreso my back has known the pierce atwin For betrayal has not yet seen me out my life. But then, I would not life without these knives, For scarred my back has known what daggers must Admit these twins accursèd in our lives: Without, there is no beauty in one’s trust. I would my scars to never be unmade Unless I seek my back anew betrayed.
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The Drain
Were not the mountains scaled apierce the sky? And depths, the hells I dove a furnace brim? And naught but hands, I'd foot akin to fly, For flight assured I'd answer beckoned whim? Were fortunes mine not all that you'd see spent? Must brawn, my bearing back soon too be broke? Must heart you drain all but my lone's lament? Must words you take until I've but silence spoke? Can duty reconcile these values lost? Integrity withstand the work I scorned? When can the favours paid incur a cost? Is it upon the day that I am mourned? Unto myself must my efforts giving; I must, my life, see it started living.
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To Return After Many Days
For Distance hath but subtle fondness grow, And heart’s content may measure varied thus, I have a love to thought of fondness know, Yet Distance now has earned my varied trust. Though, Life is also culprit to the blame, And Circumstance; accomplice I appall. And Time, the fiend, is guilty all the same, And Work, the name to which I give them all. But, cruel Distance knows not its greatest fail, That is by which such distance overcome, For soon I’ll know this Distance at my tail, And face the fondest love my heart succumbs. The length to which my longing seizes naught, For endless is that love at longing thought.