One More Sonnet

Tag: Poetry

  • Sketch of Dawn

    Sketch of Dawn

    Overnight arrival, concealed by dark.
    Uncovered by the scratchy-sketch of dawn.
    Bleak demeanour, drawn as stubborn and stark.
    Bearing the Mistral’s mark; from elsewhere born.
    And so blows the breath of an awkward gust;
    tugs at the rigging with canvas attached;
    agitates, orchestrates a whistling thrust.
    And so throws a whisper; from elsewhere hatched.
    The unknown foreigner, anonymous,
    more shadow than substance; a pirate’s mast
    that bears no scrutiny: Notorious.
    . Best comes the pedigree by light of day.
    . Open to inspection and expose.

    © Tim Grace, 28 July 2013

    To the reader: Built into the fibre and fabric of this nautical replica is a mischievous spirit. I was at ‘the coast’ doing what poets do at sunrise; walking the wharf. And there she appeared … Notorious … a black caravel. Overnight this ‘dark shadow’ had moored itself to the shoreline. As is her habit, she slips the coast of Australia slinking into ports under cover of dark; under pretence of a plundering prank… black comedy?

    To the poet: This poem was written about an experience; a Notorious encounter of sorts. But like so many interesting snippets there’s a larger back-story. While writing the poem I had no idea the ship was built by an Australian, Graeme Wylie, in his backyard, as recuperative therapy. Graeme, a furniture maker by trade, built the Portuguese Caravel by-eye from surplus wood-stock. In a physical sense, the ship is sheer poetry… a compilation of ideas and a floating metaphor.  (reference: http://scienceillustrated.com.au/blog/in-the-mag/vintage/the-mahogany-ship/)

    Sketch of Dawn
    Sketch of Dawn
  • There Are Moments

    There Are Moments

    There are moments when everything makes sense.
    For just a second nothing is at odds.
    Simplicity abounds, becomes immense;
    earns the approval of a thousand gods.
    It’s at that moment, between wake and dream,
    that all things become imaginable;
    all things at once adopt a common theme.
    One point of truth becomes conceivable.
    Clarity of thought is clean-cut and crisp;
    vagaries sharpen so ‘that’ becomes ‘this’;
    images emerge, give shape to a wisp;
    that which is simple, more beautiful is.
    . Where stems the answer to “why is it so?”
    . From the essence … in the presence of flow.

    © Tim Grace, 18 July 2013

    To the reader: If you haven’t had your introduction to the works of Dr Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (chick sent me high) you owe it to yourself to make that connection. Through this acquaintance you’ll meet yourself at your potential best. As the theory goes, there are deliberate steps you can take on the way to achieving flow; an essence you learn to channel from within a zone of intense satisfaction with your own condition of contentment… in pursuit of happiness.

    To the poet: You can’t bottle flow; it’s a meditative energy, that through active absorption describes a form of fulfilment. My gateway to ‘flow’ is through the comfortable challenge of poetry. Effort, along with challenge, is a necessary ingredient. And so, in the right mix, these energies combine to create a state of self-contained purpose. Flow, by definition, is a dynamic stream of consciousness, coursing its way through mind and soul… in pursuit of happiness.

    There Are Moments There Are Moments
    Picture Source:
    http://www.ted.com/talks/mihaly_csikszentmihalyi_on_flow?language=en#t-33296
  • Dust and a Broom

    Dust and a Broom

    ‘Tis one thing to be untaught, ignorant
    of facts and figures; as to be naive.
    Quite another to be belligerent,
    to bludgeon truth and blatantly deceive.
    One can accommodate some innocence,
    show a little slack for lack of nous.
    Such is not the case for arrogance:
    long since the boarder; banished from the house.
    For those with space to wonder, give them keys:
    grant them all access to rooms full of room
    To badgers and bullies who shoot the breeze
    give to them the basement; dust and a broom.
    . We learn to be wise, to know and believe,
    . to stand in defiance of those who aggrieve.

    © Tim Grace, 14 July 2013

    To the reader: Knowledge without the balance of skills and understanding is as useful as a one-legged stool. Content can not stand alone. Context provides a subject with its reference-point. Our conservative school systems have for decades trained and rewarded the content-collectors to the detriment of children with more broad and practical forms of emotional and social intelligence. The know-all is a renowned nuisance … often a drag on the multi-talented team.

    To the poet: There remain some clunky-lines that hold their place by virtue of adequate fill. In the absence of better content they suffice; for the moment anyway. Otherwise, and after some serious editing, this sonnet has some redeeming features. The context of consonance works well as belligerent emphasis. And I quite-like the line that gives “a little slack for lack of nous”. A poem is more than clever words; for them, we turn to a dictionary; with them, we build vocabulary; for more, we turn to art.

    Dust and a Broom Dust and a Broom
    Picture Source:
    http://youtu.be/FIBOdT86XmI
  • Death Shrieks

    Death Shrieks

    Perplexed by the passage of your passing;
    the path you have chosen not to complete.
    Death, that easy option, that ever-lasting
    expression of nothing more than defeat.
    Through your dangling obituary death speaks:
    “dirges from the book of unfinished works.”
    No songs of joy, hymns of praise; sadness shrieks
    through a minor key, morbidly it jerks
    at the heartstrings, tugs a discordant wrench;
    pulls from mortality a cheap reward.
    Never was the thirst for life given quench
    through the cut and thrust of a broken sword.
    . Rest – that which remains of a life unspent.
    . Rest – that which contains all of life’s content.

    © Tim Grace, 19 July 2013

    To the reader: In his case, suicide was an ultimate escape; a cynical determination. A deliberate departure from life’s course; one he hadn’t travelled well. Alongside a list of other broken relationships I suppose suicide was just one more; consistent with his self-absorbed character. There were no indulgences he didn’t crave and feed to the detriment of others. Eventually his ‘smartness’ wore thin, and so he resorted to ever greater forms of obliteration; the final one rubbed him out.

    To the poet: I’m sure he had many redeeming features. I knew of none. As anonymous he has become the particular avenue of my general vent. In his truncated life, I wasn’t allowed the last word; the attention-seeker makes no sense of that. But now, with his last move made it is my turn to speak. The poet’s obituary can be harsh… who bears the burden?

    Death Shrieks
    Death Shrieks
    Picture Source:
    http://youtu.be/bldW5tjfmpU
  • Renovated Dream

    Renovated Dream

    I’m living in a renovated dream.
    Walls come tumbling down before my eyes.
    Rose-coloured glasses wash away the theme
    of ‘tangerine trees and marmalade skies’.
    Gone is the porter, that plasticine man.
    Gone from his station of gainful employ.
    Gone is the dog-mouse with rice-paper plan.
    So too the drummer, that blue-eyed boy.
    Gone are those characters, lucid and bright.
    Gone with the pictures on ‘green-pepper walls’
    with ‘everything emptying into white…’
    Gone from my reaching; ignoring my calls.
    . I’m living in a renovated dream.
    . Devoid of pattern, of colour and scheme.

    © Tim Grace, 9 July 2013

    To the reader: Through my teenage years I was drawn to lyrics that conjured-up slightly distorted visual images. Masters of the art (John Lennon, Cat Stevens, etc.) wrote convincingly between believable and plausible lines; avoiding a shift onto tracks of complete nonsense. As in vector-distortions the original image is never lost, simply stretched to entice attention. As in camouflage, clever-mimicry replaces the truth. As in this sonnet I’m living in a renovated dream…what is that?

    To the poet: In some forms of deception the skilled-expert successfully arrests disbelief. The magician, the con-man and the poet all use the same ploy of managing expectation. Within bounds, an audience will allow a degree of contrived replacement. As long as the augmentation doesn’t break too many rules that contortion (otherwise that mistake) is overlooked; enjoyed as different.

    Renovated Dream Renovated Dream
    Picture Sources:
    1. http://youtu.be/YSq270lUuZE
    2. http://youtu.be/kea0ghm7Z4E
  • So Be It

    So Be It

    So be it. Luck and chance have had their fun:
    coins flipped, dice tossed, cards dealt with nonchalance.
    So be it. In the end the deed is done;
    that flippant toss invites a strong response.
    As it is. You now have a given stack:
    Heads not tails, six over one; King not Ace
    As it is. No point missing what you lack;
    take what you’re given, put a plan in place.
    Be as may. Accept that which comes to pass.
    Concede to consequence, be resolute.
    Be as may. Be game. Be as bold as brass;
    Become that which by chance allows you route.
    . So be it, as it is, or be as may
    . By way of luck, or chance, it’s yours to play.

    © Tim Grace, 30 June 2013

    To the reader: Educators increasingly talk about gamification of learning through the lens of human psychology. Observation of ‘gamers’ in action shows a persistent response to challenges on the basis of social rewards. A social-gamer gains kudos and reputation for increasing levels of skill; admired by his or her significant community of peers. Behaviours associated with belonging reward the value-adding learner; they are badged with success.

    To the poet: As I move slowly through the editing process, there’s a pattern appearing. When I meet a stubborn-draft (poorly finished) the easiest solution is to rediscover the original hook; and obviously, hang everything off that – as much as it will bear. And so, the three-word stem for every second line allowed this poem to be reframed with some semblance of original inspiration. Making-do with what you’ve got.

    So Be It
    So Be It
    Picture Source:
    http://youtu.be/FeyhpQRQJew