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 massageand thankless
under the airships of our dreams
bursting through Moissanite ceilings,
dropping our soiled gabardine

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.


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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