Mired Divine, A sonnet
Going back into the oldish files for some poems that were lost in the pile. Here at least they'll breathe once more.
This poem came from a time when I'd nearly given up on poetry for the first time in 20+ years. With my daughter at 3 years old, and my career as a copywriter picking up speed, I was losing track of why I pursued the ephemeral art at all. But thanks to meeting Poetic Asides , I found a respark and have continued with the practice unabated ever since. 30 years now!
This poem is about us humans.
"Mired Divine"
Such
mucky bubbles we all are
with
monkey grace and dirt and arm,
tied
into our tangled blankets
needful
as massage—and thankless—
under
the airships of our dreams
bursting
through Moissanite ceilings,
dropping
our soiled gabardine
we spoiled in rain and gasoline…
we spoiled in rain and gasoline…
We’re
puddles rainbowed with feeling
waking
as angels, but screaming,
inventing
stores of penny pranks,
rumbling
ohms and ums and flatus...
Each
of us born a stinky star
of
spark and choice and rice we are.
4/23/2009
P.S. This is an "onion sonnet" where the center is a rhymed couplet, and the rhymes go outward from there, so that the first line rhymes with the last.
P.S. This is an "onion sonnet" where the center is a rhymed couplet, and the rhymes go outward from there, so that the first line rhymes with the last.
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