“Locks of Hair”
I will cut your hair.But I will not wind itaround my wrist, nor shutit up in my great-grandmother’s locket.(It is a gleaming, ticking heart,longer-lived than her pulsing one.)I am too afraid of you,making me your captive, Love.(With that,your leavingwould make my life endure longerthan I would have it.)
I sleep.I cry out, and claw.His [...]
this poem is an attempt at the stule of Wilfred Owen, a modernist WWI poet of immense talent at a very young age. I am attempting to visit one of his central themes–death–in a more round-about way, and also to mimic his use of slant-rhymed couplets.
“One Youth Dead”
Find her, made tiny by the looming [...]
“Turn Back”
You have turned me back–to a face feverish.and tearful, withthe coming dawn.I, who pled invincibility,who bribed happiness–for a moment’sdwelling in thesoul.
You have turned me back–without fingers; withonly your snaking words,whose venoms creptalong my shield, my spear–and, lo, they disappear!I, who swore–allegiance tomarchingmotion.
You have turned me back–I crawl,resting, belly-up,among the mountains’templars, holy,victimizing–
Inscribe me withsonnets to [...]
This poem stylistically and thematically invokes H.D., one of my new favorite poets. Enjoy.(for more about H.D.: http://www.imagists.org/hd/)
“Waiting”
Hang us, heavy,among the leaves–drying, turning, burning.We ascend–flamed brighterthan the orchard’sdressings.
Cold wind,smite us! We wait,heavy, for the ax to fall–for the burning–and the woodsmokewhich clotsour eyes.
Dark night,find us! Nude butbarren–in the first garden,or the firstgleaming, [...]
I have been re-reading several early Renaissance British Literature sonnet sequences for an independent study I am taking. Among them, is Sir Philip Sidney’s Astrophel and Stella, twisted, difficult, complicated, and unbelievable bit about love…
This sonnet is part of the sequence. It is speaking to me write now, through my writer’s block and [...]
Against my better judgment, I have deleted some posts off of my blog from last May. I do not want to be accused of vainglory. I have never tried to use my private life to gain public acclamation for any talents I may possess. I am only able to write well what [...]
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