One More Sonnet

Tag: Events

  • Queen of Science

    Queen of Science

    She speaks of dark matter, she seeks its clue.
    She maps the empty, voluminous void
    that fills the heavens with galactic glue;
    such keeps the Queen of Science full employed.
    Visible space (her realm) she understands.
    The pull of planets and the death of stars;
    the gaseous clusters that time expands;
    with curiosity she’s there on Mars.
    But what of the vast unknown, the unseen,
    the invisible, lightless, hidden mass?
    What sense does she make of the in between?
    As yet, it would seem, not that much, alas!
    . Chaos reigns above the Queen’s universe,
    . order favours the black night … quite perverse!

    © Tim Grace, 10 August 2012

    To the reader: The Queen of Science is mathematics. Her realm, comprised of all things great and small, is understood through the logic of numbers. As with the best of monarchs, she is most interested in relationships; how things bond and bridge. The Queen’s interests follow the path of human curiosity: deep seas and shallow shores; heaven and earth; the living and the dead. She’s a woman of substance and structure; as real as she is abstract; as infinite as she is nothing.

    To the poet: I remember flying, from here to there, with a popular science magazine as company. Page after page of ‘new science’ flipped before my eyes; with each flip came an array of impressive numbers; usually well-beyond my comprehension. Obviously impressed, I used my simple understanding to pay homage to the Queen of Science. The sonnet has a simple structure with the last stanza acting as counterpoint … but … there is much to learn.

     

    Queen of Science Queen of Science
    Picture Source:
    http://youtu.be/A9S9gwhS6Yk

     

  • Sad Indictment

    Sad Indictment

    Pall of darkness on road to Damascus;
    It’s a sad indictment of light’s reform.
    The mood is tense and turning fractious;
    What says the message in this rising storm?
    They do not hear its thunder. Are they deaf
    to its rumbling; to its tremulous pound?
    They are so broken of spirit, no clef
    can orchestrate meaning, make sense of sound.
    How loud must the message be amplified
    before these soldiers are stopped in their tracks?
    What lightning, what thunder must coincide
    in their hearts and minds? … meanwhile Kingdom cracks.
    . All roads lead to somewhere, they are the course
    . of discovery; fortune and remorse.

    © Tim Grace, 29 July 2012

    To the reader: Two years on… and the crisis intensifies; a sad indictment of geo-political posturing. As tallied, the numbers describing death and displacement are staggering. Associated stories are horrendous; and yet, the map of suffering and destruction consumes itself with ravenous ferocity. Nothing to do with justice. Misguided conviction plays out another confrontation; another catastrophe; another war crime – such a pity.

    To the poet: Man of darkness on the road to Damascus. A conversion story, where Saul takes on a simple journey that leads to a complex tale of self-discovery. Paul (Saul’s alter ego) emerges from the flash-point a transformed individual. In Aristotle’s theatrical framework (Poetics) Saul’s crisis is the turning-point; the reversal, from which Paul seeks resolution. The equivalence of one man’s story…

     

    Sad Indictment Sad Indictment
    Picture Source:
    http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-22798391

     

  • Release The Brake

    Release The Brake

    You’d better contemplate your journey now.
    Talk as you would walk with a natural gait.
    Learn to wait, stand your ground, take a bow.
    Be patient, be present … anticipate.
    By all means stride out, by all means leap forth.
    But do take care, know when enough’s enough.
    This is the stuff of immeasurable worth;
    the fortitude you need when things get tough.
    You are where are, for good purpose; there
    not to stagnate, not to stop, you’re there to make
    the most of moments (rehearse and prepare)
    and then, when you’re ready, release the brake.
    . As a general rule, what’s far becomes near.
    . Life, as is our school, renders most things clear.

    © Tim Grace, 18 July 2012

    To the reader: Effectively managing the erratic pace of life takes wisdom. Going with the flow is one technique; perilous when that pace is frantic, stultifying when things grind to a halt. No, we can do better than that. Finding your own natural rhythm is the trick. Live life in a relaxed state of readiness… poised; as in ‘having a composed and self-assured manner.’

    To the poet: Adjusting a suit can be a simple matter… hems up or down. On the other hand the process can be laboured and intensive; costly and expensive. The same can be said of editing a sonnet. Like its predecessor, this sonnet fought tooth and nail not be adjusted. Every line took umbrage at the mere suggestion of change or alteration. In the end we were both exhausted.

     

    Release The Brake Release The Brake
    Picture Source:
    http://youtu.be/8sJz-iEd1PA

     

  • Life Long Journey

    Life Long Journey

    They tell me the life-long journey is done.
    Apparently, there’s been a change of course.
    The argument goes “that old race is run…
    that over-trodden track has lost its force.”
    Seems to me, it’s the traveller’s gone astray.
    It’s not the map that has thrown its compass
    to the four winds; and so, must find its way.
    It’s the runner; stuck in a deep crevasse:
    he’s become the point of question, the cause
    to pause, to hesitate, to contemplate:
    ‘position and condition’ on foreign shores;
    he threw aside the guide and tested fate.
    . Old maps are not for the lost to squander,
    . they offer much for the lost to ponder.

    © Tim Grace, 3 June 2012

    To the reader: Throughout life we adapt to changing circumstances. Those who stop adapting are least likely to survive the ravages of time. Thus, the life-long journey is a continuous construction of self; one that represents our environmental relationships. The key to survival is adaptation. Our adaptive capacities (knowledge, skills and understandings) are transmitted through interaction with others. There is no end to this journey, forever mapped to a lust for learning.

    To the poet: As a counter-argument this sonnet doesn’t quite reach the status of polemic. It does however mount a good case for life-long learning as mapped to a solid premise. The poetical challenge was to intersperse some geographical terrain into the text; the geographical context. The final handwritten version (3 June 2012) of this poem struggled to find its way; a digital rescue (2 February 2015) was applied a year or two down the track.

     

    life long journey life long journey

     

  • Destination

    Destination

    Sometimes we arrive at destinations;
    the result of an effortless journey.
    Driven not by stress or consternations;
    not chased, not pulled, not fuelled by urgency.
    It’s then that we arrive as a ready force;
    in full command of the traveller’s kit.
    No map, no guide, just a natural course:
    a passage through time, a comfortable fit.
    Left to take this ‘natural course’ we become
    our destination; and as such, arrive
    fully prepared: readied, and in fulsome
    frame of mind; eager to flourish and thrive.
    . Pathways to wherever can not be mapped,
    . they can not be copied or overlapped.

    © Tim Grace, 3 June 2012

    To the reader: The course of least resistance is one of many natural orders. A stream will meander around obstacles; seeking direction and guidance from the surrounding terrain. In this way a stream becomes its destination. In contrast, a fire will ravage its environment as it seeks to fuel an insatiable appetite for energy. The random path of a fire reflects a craving for instant gratification; there is no recognition of place in its destructive path. In this way a fire destroys its destination.

    To the poet: The natural flow of consciousness identifies a good poem. The ease by which a poem flows around obstacles of rhyme and reason is a marker of success. There will always be creative tension in a poem; for the course can not be so easy as to stop the stream of thought. The rhythm of ebb and flow, as opposed to slash and burn, seeks resolution not resignation; agreement not argument; destination not destruction.

     

    Destination Destination
    Pictue Sources:

    http://youtu.be/j5EviZch6XA

     

  • And as for me…

    And as for me…

    Pelicans drift with the current; sunrise
    scatters its golden flecks across the bay.
    Geese in formation navigate the skies;
    and as for me … I contemplate the day.
    Charter-boats tug on moorings; a grey cloud
    muscles out all hope of sunny weather;
    meanwhile, two men with coffees think aloud;
    morning thoughts let loose of last night’s tether;
    and as for me … I watch gulls squabbling
    over real-estate, scavenging the scraps
    of a left over meal; a man hobbling
    his way to somewhere … happiness perhaps?
    . And as for me … I sit invisible;
    . pondering what is and isn’t isable.

    © Tim Grace, 27 May 2012

    To the reader: Morning contemplation is a rare commodity; a pleasure I’ve learned to appreciate over recent years. My solitary writing routine is just one of many day-break habits. For the socially dependent, they gather to reignite humanity’s embered coals. For the physically addicted, they re-cycle themselves with a daily grind (of coffee). The likes of me … we just watch … for there’s much to see in a new day dawning.

    To the poet: … at my happiest watching words script themselves into poetry before my eyes. Some poems appear as animated scenery; translucent layers of activity, drifting planes of intermingled celluloid. The editing room converts the sketch into scribbles; sometimes with a cross-fade, sometimes with a dissolve. As a morning observation, it’s best the poem reflects rising disposition… dawning realism.

     

    And as for me...
    And as for me…
    Picture Source:
    http://youtu.be/rtTBq9J3fcg