Month: October 2014

gift of gifts

Gift of gifts

There is no child who from its mother
did not receive the gift of life.
This gift of gifts is like no other:
given as incomplete. It’s rife
with possibility, ripe with potential,
it’s a gift that will grow and change,
it shares her likeness; referential.
With generous scope to range
this gift gives all but eternity,
this gift gives all it has to give,
this is the gift of maternity,
this is the gift of life we live.
. Of all the gifts, it’s the one that ranks,
. as worthy-most of life-long thanks.

© Tim Grace, 11 May 2011

To the reader: Put aside posterity, and a mother’s gift of life is an expression of generosity. Her gift offers nothing more than potential; it comes with no guarantee. More so, her gift is wrapped with love and good wishes; high hopes for health and happiness. As a gift it comes with no service contract; instead, it’s a social contract, an expectation of life-long commitment and care.

To the poet: Although not a classic iambic pentameter, in the Shakespearian sense, this poem’s rhythm burdens every other syllable with a weighted grip. In particular, the last quatrain is repetitive and rhythmical with its emphasis baring on the ‘gift’. And so, through technique an emphatic message is given voice.

gift of gifts gift of gifts

 

simple creed

Simple Creed

Somewhere in the forest dense,
With old-growth thickly sewn,
There’s a single seed of commonsense,
Long since over grown.
It’s buried ‘mongst a bed of leaves,
As laid through years of scatter,
Beneath this heavy mass it heaves,
Giving reason to its matter.
It’s not the seed of discontent,
That festers complication,
It’s more the source of new intent,
And the essence of creation.
– What knowledge from a seed does breed?
– Keep it simple – is its simple creed.

© Tim Grace, 6 May 2011

To the reader: Simple solutions are too often over-looked; dismissed as trite. The ‘tried and true’ remedy outlives its novelty; so shiny becomes dull and none-too attractive. Human nature thrives on surprise and quickly habituates to ‘sameness’; we look to see things differently. Unfortunately, simple routines, as efficient as they are, become mundane and tiresome. And so, in an attempt to add a little sparkle to our tasks we inadvertently make things difficult … too clever by half.

To the poet: Revisiting a sonnet, years after it was first finished, is sometimes an exercise in restraint. There’s always the temptation to fiddle; nudge a couple of words; alter the length of a line; or swap one word for another. As a poem’s substance is mostly well-set, it’s then readability that gets the work-over. The rule of restraint relates to originality; don’t distance the sonnet too far from its time-bound source.

 

simple creed

simple creed

 

simple truth

Simple Truth

Sometimes a simple truth is sacrificed;
abandoned; let go, as surplus to need.
For utility’s sake it’s cut and spliced;
modified; stripped of its seminal seed.
Sometimes too, a simple truth is buried;
covered by layers of expedience,
overgrown, entombed in a myriad
of rows; for folioed convenience.
And sometimes simple truth is set aside.
It’s rendered small enough to ridicule;
belittled; nothingness personified;
significance reduced to minuscule.
. When by design – we’re too clever by half,
. who is it … who is it, has the last laugh?

© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 11) 4 May 2011

To the reader: Simple solutions are too often over-looked; dismissed as trite. The ‘tried and true’ remedy outlives its novelty; so, shiny becomes dull and none-too attractive. Human nature thrives on surprise and quickly habituates to ‘sameness’; we look to see things differently. Unfortunately, simple routines, as efficient as they are, become mundane and tiresome. And so, in an attempt to add a little sparkle to our tasks we inadvertently make things difficult … too clever by half.

To the poet: Revisiting a sonnet, years after it was first finished, is sometimes an exercise in restraint. There’s always the temptation to fiddle; nudge a couple of words; alter the length of a line; or swap one word for another. As a poem’s substance is mostly well-set, it’s then readability that gets the work-over. The rule of restraint relates to originality; don’t distance the sonnet too far from its time-bound source.

 

simple truth simple truth

 

suited or not

Suited or Not

They can draft a man to suit a plan,
give him wage and compensation.
They can craft a man ’til spic’n’span,
prepare him for occasion.
Surely then, it’s fair that we assume
he’s qualified; and suitably recruited.
But soon, too soon, his costume
slips. A facade’s been executed!
Any fool can dress the part,
and for some time play his bluff.
But neither is this good nor smart,
for through polish shows his scruff.
. Beware the quack with phony bill,
. so too folly, doctor-like, controlling skill.

© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 10) 1 May 2011

To the reader: So it is supposed to go… as we carve out our individual career paths the route develops a logic which is matched to our particular talents. And so we become suited, recruited, to our work. Frustratingly, not all career paths follow this dictum; this pattern of logical progression. For some, opportunity defies logic and lays down a highway devoid of devotion. Rapid rise; rapid fall … careers to a crash!

To the poet: In lengthening the lines of a poem we create space to internally reinforce points of expressions. An incidental phrase (not always necessary) can soften the direct impact of hurried line. The inserted clause, the bracketed thought, offers an adjustment: a tweak; a checkpoint; a clarification of sorts. The longer line is reassuring, less punchy; more reader friendly.

 

suited or not suited or not

 

authority

Authority

Authority, as per regulation,
will justify suppression,
will authorise translation
and standardise expression.
It will stamp approvals, make decrees,
issue fines and warnings.
But when it comes to birds and bees,
and the beauty of good mornings,
what use is there in forms to sign;
what good is that affording?
It doesn’t help the sun to shine,
nor the crowd in its applauding.
. Art made tongue-tied by authority,
. gives voice to no majority.

© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 9) 27 April 2011

To the reader: To wield authority is an art-form not easily crafted into institutional practice. As institutions grow in size and status they instinctively adopt self-protective procedures that distance themselves from face-to-face exposure. The protective force-field is governance; more or less the rules of engagement. To be satisfying, our interaction with authority needs to bare some resemblance to the flow of natural order… if not creative then at least flexible; adaptive to change.

To the poet: Without structure sonnets easily wander off track. Conversely, they can’t bear too much heavy engineering. Through natural rhythms, the mechanical hardware of a sonnet is disguised as rhyme and reason. As with authority, a bureaucratic approach to poetry can over-govern its artistic bent; a tongue-tied sonnet results.

 

 

authority

authority

 

missing sonnet

Missing Sonnet

The case of the missing sonnet unfolds,
Layers of intrigue yet to be revealed:
One, the sonneteer vehemently upholds
That crucial evidence has been concealed;
Two, he claims the sonnet (to date his best)
Was finished and the draft had gone to print;
And three, as aggrieved plaintiff, he’d suggest
The weight of evidence does more than hint
That the crime was payback, a vendetta,
A deliberate and well executed
Act of retribution; Every letter,
Every word, in every way disputed.
. Why take possession of what causes grief?
. What’s the obsession… it beggars belief?

© Tim Grace, 29 September 2011

To the reader: A lost object has the potential to be found; it’s not yet fully gone. Retrieval is usually a simple matter of retracing steps; upturning the obvious. Annoyingly, in the lost-zone, while it lasts, there dwells frustration and self-doubt. But, having acquitted yourself of simple misplacement there comes the temptation to attribute blame to others. They become the culprits.

To the poet: This is the first sonnet, sequentially but not chronologically, to have fourteen lines loaded with ten syllables each. The first line also adheres to the pattern of iambic-pentameter with paired emphasis bouncing from heel to toe. It’s also a sonnet that, for my pleasure, reads across the lines as a single passage of thought. As structured, this sonnet works well as a self-contained package.

 

missing sonnet missing sonnet