A feeble excuse that's plain as day,
given in the forlorn hope
it evokes forgiveness and pity,
with a lame witty ditty tale,
about what the dog ate,
is demacing, defacing, emacing and demurring.
It voids the hope of mercy, pardon and exoneration
that the dog ate as well.
My mind could well from a million alts choose:
Marvel at beauty of that moonless sky,
Re-live that meandering slow boat cruise,
Recall fragrance from her love wafting by,
Re-enjoy bluebell blossoms of late springs,
I could have dwelt at her demurring dimple
Which, seems to show deeper dent when she sings,
And whilst at it, could have delved on her ample
Presence— any of her prime beauty spots,
But worries weighed in, crowding out my joys,
Why, but I kept on dotting needless dots,
Not on the pleasant dream, what it destroys,
Which, made me twist and turn in bed n times,
Dwelling on life’s peripherals, not primes.
__________________________
Sonnet |01.02.13, revised November 2024|
terza rima
Years of experience, a discovery -
I can speak without making use of my jaws.
Prudence and patience are rudimentary.
Some folks get their kicks using scuttlebutt claws.
Their tongues' crude vitality comes with closed eyes;
emotional blindness - the probable cause.
Starting with prejudice, they out and out lie.
When asked, I stand silent, comments I refuse.
To their third-degree grilling I can't reply.
Some fake aggravation, crying through tissues.
But demurring to speak, objection I raise.
Honesty is one of many dead issues.
Bidding no farewell, I leave, making my case,
which makes me their next target, no hesitance.
My objection overruled, noise fills the place.
Turning my back on verbal vindictiveness,
this fugitive from gossip needs no redress.
13 March 2016
No more the curse of what is bad,
enduring cause, or so-so sad
I am the circle of the mad,
disciple of implore . . . the Had!
This venture, trusted counterfeit
the soul's combustion ~ make it fit,
alas, alack, the sum of it,
I am rescheduled ~ my work's bit!
Oh labor lost, the onion's pit
has much more flavor ~ keep, not spit
approve, thy own concern with grit,
a self conferring, truth not skit!
No cause demurring can restrict,
this thought occuring ~ I've had it!