One More Sonnet

Tag: Place

  • Photo Booth

    Photo Booth

    In the photo booth, she laughs at odd contortions,
    Stretches her familiar disposition.
    Her elastic features, pulled into new proportions,
    At the edge of recognition.
    In the photo booth, she winks a new expression,
    Explores a new contortion,
    Her playful eyes leave a deep impression,
    There’s courage in her caution.
    In the photo booth, she nods another mischief,
    Smiles at its extortions,
    Her amusement is her image,
    Not one but many portions.
    In every image captured there’s never one the same,
    A diamond has its facets … many to its name.

    Tim Grace, 9 March 2010

    To the reader: Image is the luminous quality in the projection of self. In this context, a teenager’s experimentation with style is a passionate pursuit; an obsession giving polish to personal branding. Contorted facial experiments deliver some strange results that beyond amusement reveal a lot about character. The familiar face pulled into a curious form is interesting to read for its deeper emotional meaning… who is she when not herself?

    To the poet: In form this is a sonnet, but forced rhyming arrangements pull uncomfortably at its structure. Around the rhyming features of ‘contortion’ there are repeated references; stretched awkwardly across the body of the poem. Although the poem is weak on technical perfection, there are times when an imperfect structure can assist in the successful construction of a fractured theme.

    Photo Booth Photo Booth
  • Punctuated Rhythm

    Punctuated Rhythm

    The ambling gent in casual mode
    Swings as he progresses,
    His movement bares no heavy load
    It’s pleasure he expresses.
    The skipping child to her mother’s gait
    Will dance to a missing beat,
    In later years she’ll see as bait
    Her syncopated feet.
    The couple with a strolling pram
    Take comfort in its rocking,
    The child aboard sleeps like a lamb
    When Mother Goose comes knocking.
    . There’s a punctuated rhythm to a passing crowd,
    . People making patterns – composing out aloud.

    © Tim Grace, 28 February 2010

    To the reader: The rhythm of life pulses through the human race expressing our moods and demeanours. The confident gait belongs to those with status, the boastful strut marks the braggart, and the carefree skip of a child renders all else a function of bipedal progression. When watching a crowd, it’s the collection of gaits, struts and skips that give it character, and mark it as different to a marching parade; having the hallmark of precisely choreographed passage.

    To the poet: In the absence of a strict iambic-pentameter, the initial four lines of this poem capture what is probably my natural rhythm of a longer first line (eight syllables) followed by a shorter phrase (of seven syllables in this case) to conclude the two-line sentence. The mechanics of poetry are vitally important but contrived construction ensures collapse. Every poem should have its own pulse; and for the readers’ sake help to transform the words from a written to oral state.

     

    Punctuated Rhythm Punctuated Rhythm
  • Saturated Image

    Saturated Image

    Liquid reflection

    A saturated image floats lightly
    As a surface level scene.
    An occasional glimmer shines brightly
    To accentuate the sheen.
    From fluid thoughts and wet connections
    Comes a deeper contemplation.
    A pool of thoughts, recollections
    born of liquid incubation.
    Still waters give reason to reflect
    but shallow is its lasting.
    One slip, one drip, and gone is its effect
    No image is it casting.
    .    The clarity of thought can be swallowed by a ripple
    .    Drowned in the disturbance created by a tipple.

    © Tim Grace, February 2010

    To the reader: Watching the dynamics of ripples in action is fascinating. The way ripples bounce off each other and merge into new concentric patterns is poetry in motion. But the impact of a ripple on a liquid surface breaks the mirror-like qualities. As ripples expand across a surface they blur clarity and replace a perfect image with a disturbed and distorted impression of the form at source.

    To the poet: In this sonnet we look through the image to contemplate a deeper thought; there is something below the surface worthy of attention. In delving deeper, the poem introduces the impact of a ripple. One drip and the unity of an image is disturbed. Over time I learnt to separate the writing of the final couplet from the body of the work; often with a night’s sleep. Creating some space in time allows me to step back and observe then summarize the work from a useful distance.

     

  • Vagrant Wordsmith

    Vagrant Wordsmith

    A dispossessed poet has no address?
    Vagrant wordsmith finds himself lost for words?
    Sunday morning solitude, more or less
    A waste land; quarters apportioned in thirds.
    Fractional allotments, absurdities;
    Occupied tables, multiples of six,
    Or four, or two; disputed territories;
    Unilateral remedies, far from fix
    An awkward treaty. Spaces between lines
    Become expansive; attract attention,
    Heightened meanings and hollow countersigns
    Position the possessed in contention.
    .   A poet in the margins, far from lost,
    .   Far from desolate, with his words embossed.

    © Tim Grace, 24 August 2014

     

    To the reader: If you’re outwardly observant and inwardly conscious the creative mind looks after the assembly of a poem. Once the mind is in-flow with the general gist of a theme it will mix and match its contribution of frames and reference points. That’s all very well, and easier said than done; practice and discipline are critical components of the process – and that presumes a conducive space to write.

    To the Poet: Rhyme inducing comfort zones are hard to find, and even harder to keep; context is everything. For years, I’ve sampled cafe cuisines in pursuit of an ideal writing ambience. For the most part, a hotel’s ‘breakfast room’ seems optimal. As a large enterprise, hotels usually offer an affordable option of ‘tea and toast’. With a passing trade, the regular change of clientele constructs an interesting sense of community; notable but not obvious.