good reason

Correct and True

Half right; is correct in fact.
It’s free from error’s damage.
It’s twice been checked and so exact.
It’s the best that we can manage.
Half right is true and so ideal.
It’s there in a lover’s kiss.
It’s passionate and full of zeal.
It’s perfect as it is.
Right is then a two-faced coin,
as would carry yang and ying.
Principles that we can join
to make a good and proper thing.
. Good reason often comes to plight,
. for rarely does it prove twice right.

© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 7) 21 April 2011


To the reader: To be completely right a solution must be both correct and true. Correctness requires abidance with the facts. To be true requires loyalty despite false attraction. Half-right solutions are not, therefore, wrong; they’re just not completely right. According to circumstance, the half-right solution (being correct or true but not both) is all that’s needed. In love be true, otherwise correct.

To the poet: Semantics and pedantry are to be handled with care. Splitting meaning for no good purpose can be perceived as mischievous; spoiling for a fight. Exploring the difference between two words (correct and true) in light of a common theme (rightness) was hopefully revealing; more so than troublesome. The choice of one word over another is a qualitative decision.


 

good reason

good reason

 

bell and trumpet

Bell and Trumpet

It’s not that she was pure of heart
and this was crudely broken.
Nor was it that she played no part
in how rudely she was woken.
It wasn’t that her heart had died
through a lover’s cruel neglect.
Rarely were her thoughts applied
to a life she should respect.
This maiden in a sense secured
a self-imposed displacement.
With ravenous greed she so procured
a deal that bought debasement.
. Take not the heart inside – as would sell a strumpet.
. When virtue is commodified – sound the bell and trumpet.

© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 6) 21 April 2011


To the reader: Virtue and grace are beautiful qualities; so easily tarnished. The corruption of beauty is mostly defiled by an external influence. An ugly and crude influence with no respect for nature’s dignified design. Occasionally, the corruption is an internal fester that sullies from within. Sadly, self-corruption destroys the heart and soul and most darkens the shine of inner-beauty.

To the poet: To be labelled a strumpet is no good thing. The word’s etymology describes a crude pedigree: a hussy, a harlot; in short a shameless prostitute. Seems the word travelled through time accruing a coterie of associated meanings. From its notion of crudeness came ‘to strum’. To strum, as in to play coarsely, ineptly, on a stringed instrument.


 

bell and trumpet

bell and trumpet

 

hoisted on high

As Hoisted High

At focal points, as hoisted high,
Our heroes stand aloft,
And so exposed to passers by,
They’re all too often scoffed.
Some are standing there aloof,
And gaze toward the yonder,
Of claim to fame there’s little proof,
And so the doubtful ponder.
Others more in comfort stand,
With gentle disposition,
Still it is that some demand,
The deepest inquisition.
. What of gilded honour, shamefully misplaced?
. Careful that our heroes are not wrongfully disgraced

© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 5) 20 April 2011


To the reader: Our heroes are exposed to levels of scrutiny that we lesser mortals need not suffer. With fame, I assume, comes a one-to-many ratio of intangible relationships. As that ratio increases (favouring the crowd) so too the potential for a distorted message. Managing a hero’s branding must be no easy task. The temptation, of others to add a little notoriety to fame has perverse benefits; a lucrative attraction for those seeking coat-tail profits.

To the poet: Assonation, as described in dictionary terms, relates to corresponding sounds; particularly that of vowels. As poems develop they naturally gravitate towards a group of sounds. In this poem ‘and’ resonates as a conjunction of thought and extension of sound; it acts as the overture to stand and demand … an assertive prompt!


 

hoistered on high

hoisted on high

 

the grind

The Grind

The higher that we stake our claim
The loftier our reach,
The fewer people play the game,
The more it means to each.
The greater sums that we invest,
The richer the reward,
The better that we do our best,
The louder they applaud,
The closer that we get to home,
The easier we sleep,
The longer that I write this poem,
The less it’s worth to keep.
. The finer that we mill our grains,
. The less of what began remains.

© Tim Grace, 20 April 2011


To the reader: The nub of the matter is often in dispute. People like to get to the point. We resent a purposeless consumption of energies. We seek positive relationships between inputs and outputs; effort and return. Each of us has a measuring stick by which we determine our expected degree of gain. At some point that extra bit of effort loses its impact. Satisfaction is the pivot; frustration the tipping point!

To the poet: As a definite article ‘the’ serves two masters. Firstly, it’s attached to items deserving specific attention within the text. Secondly, it establishes a reader-to-writer relationship relative to objects and subjects in the narrative. The defines things as specific to the statement; anchors internal meaning to external understandings of position and place. By the way, ‘the’ is the most commonly used word in the English language.


 

the grind

the grind

 

need to regulate

Need to Regulate

If profit is our only cause,
Then limit not the market.
Let them starve on foreign shores
For it guarantees our target.
If speed is used to measure skill,
Then limit not velocity,
Just beware that this might kill,
Our common sense of quality.
If it’s pedestals that make us fall,
From grace to deep depravity,
Then maybe we should ban them all,
To force the hand of gravity.
. Stupid thoughts will incubate,
. Hence the need to regulate.

© Tim Grace, 17 April 2011


To the reader: We can wrap stupidity in garlands of bright remark. The preposterous thought is easily disguised as plausible. The laws of logic can be mimicked, befuddled into submission. The accepted truth is often more convenient than it is tested. There is no shortage of dumbness on display. Mostly, as benign, it does no harm; but on occasions the fatuous need reminding of their folly.

To the poet: The art of evaluation is based upon determining the veracity of if/then relationships. This sonnet’s backbone, being about logic, is structured to parody an if/then sequence of thought. There’s a pattern to each four-line stanza. The first pair of lines establish the if/then relationship; and the last two provide a perverse conclusion. Take it as you will; but look before you leap to a conclusion.

need to regulate

need to regulate

 

closer steps disaster

Closer Steps Disaster

As golden as our gait might seem,
We cannot run much faster,
The more we pace at rates extreme,
The closer steps disaster.
As brightly as our stars might shine,
Be they cast upon a silver screen,
Or raised as part of night’s design,
Both in time become routine.
As noble as we paint our cause,
With posture and good poise,
If the canvas is but full of flaws,
Then thus itself destroys.
. As often as not, our pledged convictions,
. Meet the knot of contradictions.

© Tim Grace, 19 April 2011


To the reader: The source of a disaster becomes more obvious at the point of no return; at the precipice!. That inevitable conclusion, that certainty, delivers that unavoidable consequence; that calamity. That ‘that’ was always going to have that ending. For that ending was designed into that beginning. That be so. That be that.

To the poet: When is a poem not a riddle? I often write surrounded by people doing crosswords; riddling out a cryptic solution. The obtuse poem and the cryptic riddle have much in common… word play. Together in time, apart in place, we silently sip our coffee untangling semantic clues. For the poet, unlike his company, he poses and answers his own riddles.


 

closer steps disaster

closer steps disaster