Tag Archives: sonnet

2024, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, sonnet, the no-scape

only in dreams


here finding myself awake: swing
these legs out of bed (something
resembling purpose, ya) open the blinds
and let in the cold January sun.
be here in a proper moment find
life in a fresh cup of coffee, the scent

of supper simmering in a slow crock pot
fill the space with light, with air and
these smells — proof of life needing
living an urge rising from bone deep
something all sinew and blood rushing

rivers on the verge of flooding
pushing mud and broken bits onward
to a basin an ocean known only in dreams.

Standard
2023, Autumn, Ohio River Valley Literature, river life, sonnet, the no-scape, Working Class Literature

Autumn 2023, no. 23

(a sonnet)

it all just shuffles just shrugs away
near the eve of the equinox
the sky is already painted in autumn
there is no point in dodging the moon,
old tired-eyed daemon (yes one must believe
one must believe in gatormen too
and firetrolls and mermaids
else the world is too flat-faced)

floating in near darkness unmoored
and hoping the lines will hold
knowing only temporary ones do
under reflections by vulgar man-made lights
the river writhes oily: a snake
learning its new skin

Standard
2023, Autumn, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, the no-scape, Working Class Literature

Autumn 2023, no. 13 (a sonnet)

no, the wind does not come calling
and the suspicious absence of haunting train whistles
must be noted. still:
this river, great world’s wound,
is connected to everything.
where water goes
so goes that in me
that still flies

and that which remains finds
endless worlds stacked upon each
here at the edge
here at the land between the bridges
where the clouds, the currents, the grackle,
the heron, bring me all the news I need.

News of the World / 28 Aug 2023
Standard