About the Poetry

I am posting poems now and again and to date they are all mine. Many of them come from a graduate degree thesis I completed last year. Some of them are newer than that. I really haven't mastered the art of the happy poem yet, but there are some that are pretty silly. The following is a very poor sonnet from a technical standpoint but I enjoy the text because it is pretty much true.

Haunted By Sonnets

I wake up at night counting syllables.

The rational mind resists the prompts of

a neglected heart. If I am able

I arise to the siren's call of love.

Sir Phillip Sydney, Sir Walter Raleigh

mock me across centuries of verse.

As the dawn breaks through the trees I rally

to fine a voice more lilting, less a curse.

Perhaps those lips that love's own hand did make

No wait! It's not stealing, just to borrow...

One short line! I need the help for God's sake!

Capped pen, blackened page, hope in tomorrow.

For try as I might, using every trick

The lines I create are not iambic.