Sonnettics

I know her life is not the life she’d choose
And yet her choices brought her to this day
The game of life is not a game to lose
The dice are cold and all of us must play
But in her voice I heard the warmth of hope
And that is how I know that she will win
She’s not content to sit and merely cope
with someone else’s rules; her thoughts begin
to clarify her mind and move her heart
into a life where everything is new
where she can have a second chance to start
Where every sky she sees is brilliant blue.
And every choice she makes compels belief
that life is more than just a random thief.

My love is not dependent on your love
No matter what you do, you have my heart
Like poetry I write, my thoughts are of
the metaphoric fruit that’s sweet and tart.
It fills my mouth with juice, and yet I thirst
I want the fruit; it nourishes my soul
Without the fruit, my hunger is the worst
of any pain I’ve felt; I won’t extol
the fruit for how it tastes; of course it’s good
By good, I mean the best, no matter what
They say I shouldn’t eat it, but I should
I want it all, so I would never cut
the metaphoric fruit; the fruit is you
I want you whole, no matter what you do.

It burns within my chest, within my head
Emotional response to being hurt
I’m angry that I almost wound up dead
And now they give me drugs so I’m inert
Well, fuck the meds; I’ll PRN the lot
I’m Ironman and more, and so I still
Can swim, can bike, can run; it’s what I’ve got
And yes, I want to win; and yes, I will
My arrogance is mine; it’s who I am
I’ll kick your ass in any race you name
You won last year?  I couldn’t give a damn
I rested all last year; I’ll run you lame
That burning in my chest will fuel me on
I’ll pass your sorry ass, then I’ll be gone!

The weeds were all around and yet she grew
She stretched her gorgeous petals in the air
I stopped and smelled her fragrance, but I knew
The weeds would block the sun and bring despair
Her roots are strong and deep; the weeds’ are not
Her colors are all bright, the weeds are dark
She should have grown within a flower plot
Or in a place protected, like a park
It rains and she is nourished through her root
With rain the weeds are easy to extract
The seeds she dropped have sprouted; they are cute
In time the weeds will disappear, in fact:
The joy her fragrant beauty brings her field
will grow her sprouts; the weeds will have to yield.

The noise of life compels my mouth to drink
I used to kiss, but now my love is gone
My brain’s a cliff; my thoughts are on the brink
I feel the danger when my breath is drawn
I’d turn and run, but I’ve forgotten how 
and if I tried to leap my legs would freeze
The sweat is cold upon my sacred brow
I want to find a warmth that I can please.
The words that fill my head are strange to me
I’d sing, but I’ve forgotten ev’ry tune
I wish my thoughts were something I could see
and each decision moved me more than soon.
I like the silent thoughts; they feel like wine
I’ll drink until I feel the thoughts are mine.