sad little sonnet

eyelashes plucked
and the orange-peel breath
of Town Hall viaduct
smells like time left
behind, it’s not strange
to weep when tired
or look to rearrange
everything, rewired
and I wonder, lonely
if a fraud?
what if I only,
always, did what I adored?
Who cares, who cries
in empty offices full of sighs


Today’s challenge: write your own sad poem, but one that, like Teicher’s “Son“, achieves sadness through simplicity. Playing with the sonnet form may help you. Not sure this is a real sonnet. I followed the rhyme structure but I feel like it isn’t ‘right’

Photo by Edgar Castrejon on Unsplash

Saturday Sonnet

Lausanne marina

Bumping the edge of creativity

A boat in a marina

Rocking, chocking ‘gainst the jetty

Heaving, scrapes my lame patina.

Raw below the watermark

Those bits that can’t be altered

Weak spots patched and caulked but dark

Fearing ‘not enough’, I falter.

Should I haul to higher masts

Or try to slip the tethers?

Open water makes more tasks

In work, in life, as ever.

So contain’d by shoreline-cage,

I sculpt water; think of tidal waves



Today’s National/Global Poetry Writing Month prompt/challenge was to write a sonnet. A sonnet is quite a tricky form and I’m not sure I’ve really nailed it (note to self: write more sonnets). This was something I wanted to write about so I jammed it into this form. Then again, the prompt also talks about how the main point is to “keep your poem tight, not rangy, and to use the shorter confines of the form to fuel the poem’s energy. As Wordsworth put it, in a very formal sonnet indeed, “Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room.”” So maybe I’ve managed that, at least.