another one for Valentine’s Day

Friends call this their favorite.  Fourteener, 14 lines, 14 syllables per line. I like it, but it is not my personal favorite, nor the best of all. For you on Valentine’s Day:

Sonnet #8

Unclothed we come into this world, possession-less, alone,
The odyssey to reach each goal acquaints us with new pain,
Each stumbling block, despite the odds, becomes a stepping stone,
And every loss, a predecessor to a greater gain.
Our meeting was revealed to me when I was but a child:
A revelation of a form, a loveliness, pristine,
Yet planted in my heart was that pure vision, undefiled,
Someday to manifest itself just as it was foreseen.
I found you when I lacked the wherewithal to make you mine,
Distressed, perplexed, I felt compelled to spell my love that June.
That summer’s love was but a glimpse into a world divine,
A harbinger of better days, of times more opportune.
We’ll meet again and then we must decide upon the hour
When we’ll allow our destinies to intertwine and flower.

 

 

 

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One from the archives. Happy St.Valentine’s Day!

I still remember that first kiss –
how my pulse quickened
and my heart raced
and pounded –
like a drum –
inside my head.

You were a city girl,
gorgeous, gifted, talented –
it was no big deal for you.
But I was a country boy,
And for me it was
a singularly special moment.

I called my mother –
Daddy was in his world –
And I wrote some poems.
I couldn’t wait for tomorrow –
To kiss you again.

A Valentine’s Day poem from the archives

Sonnet #41

I tried and tried to make it fit within
the sonnet’s form. But the words resisted,
and the thoughts rebelled, and the energy
contained inside the thoughts, inside the words
sprung forth and said, “Hell no!”
So here’s the simple truth: When we’re apart
I cannot sleep. For days on end I’m just
a wreck. Dark rings surround my eyes. Edgi-
ness. A suffix added to an adjective
to make it a noun, a name that describes
and defines a state of being. My state
of being. A man can die from sleep de-
privation. But you know that already.
Please let’s not pass another sleepless night.

Langston Hughes – February 13, 2014: Pennsylvania Station

Langston Hughes – Feb 10. Love Song for Lucinda

The limits
we seek to
impose on artists
are a function
of our own
self-imposed
limitations –
not theirs.

If we choose
to sit in prisons
of our own making,
we say
the world is a prison –
it is not.

rdm

a sonnet from the archives for a February Friday

Dear friend, with pen in hand and feelings true
I sing for you this song. Despite my voice,
Too base in places to be understood,
You’ll sense the message: soothing, moving, light,
Disarming, satisfying. Rendezvous
Tonight with me, take flight, delight, rejoice
In that we share this love, exchange this word
That lives past sunsets, through the darkest night.
I can’t contain the energy this thought
Now generates: it makes me want to dance,
Sing, shout, tell all the worlds, turn somersaults;
It makes me grateful, thankful for romance.
When passing passions blue bid me adieu,
I seek safe harbors, true, kind friend, near you.