A pen in hand, decay in tiring eyes
Each dying dream has long in vain been spent
On each occasion past that I’ve told lies
When what I said seemed far from what I meant
I must have failed these words but once again
There seems to be so little left to say
But just to trust what comes forth from this pen
As sickly walls within my mind are gray
Has all that really matters once been said?
Is there yet nothing I can hope import?
Emotions that I’m feeling long are dead
Each razor witty in this stale retort
So come to-morrow prove a farce my word
‘Twill make of it all nonsense I’m assured
Author's Notes/Comments:
This piece was written in a sort of trance-like state, so I cannot say with absolute certainty what it is about. I chose to simply “trust my pen” on this one, and made changes later so that the rhyme scheme and meter were correct. I think that it mostly reflects my frustrations about how stale and clichéd my feelings and my writings are. It seems that everything worthwhile to say has already been said in innumerable ways. This is probably more of a reflection of my own lack of creativity to make the writing interesting. In the heroic couplet, I believe that I am stating that tomorrow will come and what seemed witty and well-written the previous day will seem stupid and nonsensical. The sonnet is really a somewhat sarcastic ode to “tomorrow”, which will make my writing awful.
this is not true!tomorrow will only see you better...i really believe that!and no matter how many times things have been said,not everyone is touched by the way other people say them..and probably are by your way!you have a deliciously unique style..dont ever doubt that!
guinevere~ wind
this is not true!tomorrow will only see you better...i really believe that!and no matter how many times things have been said,not everyone is touched by the way other people say them..and probably are by your way!you have a deliciously unique style..dont ever doubt that!
guinevere~ wind
lovely
Dude you're hot!!! Beautiful work you have. Oh and by the way I a friend or R. Z you may know of her.
I love sonnets -
they are short and sweet
and the ryhming end
couplet makes them complete.
Good Form. Keep writing - Keep the faith.
Outstanding job!!!
Thanks,
Trixie Love