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Tag: purpose

A Soul in Cement: sonnet (sonetto rispetto)

Published on July 8, 2025

I will not live my whole life just to spite
one more imagined evil at my door,
some cloud determined to block out my light,
or leave my spirit destitute. No more.
Why be a tool for either left or right,
when a binary choice is still piss-poor?
You’re always wrong when you pick just one side,
and where you end depends on how you ride.

The truth that can be shown in white or black
is just one more illusion, just a trick
that gives you hope for something permanent.
Reality is change. Stop holding back.
Your life is not cement that will grow thick
and make your purpose more self-evident.

08 JUL 2025

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Talking Heads: sonnet (Sicilian)

Published on July 7, 2025

Who in the world do we believe we are,
imagining our words alone suffice
to change the future’s course or shift our stars?
How much can you expect for that small price?
So little fuel will take us just so far.
What’s worth achieving takes some sacrifice;
the answer is never a lower bar,
unless your goal is a fool’s paradise.

There is no evolution of the mind
without some kind of action made out loud.
It’s not enough that a thing is conceived,
a mere equation with all terms defined.
So you can talk – no reason to be proud.
It’s only by your acts you are believed.

07 Jul 2025

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What Would Become: rondine

Published on June 26, 2025

What would become of me without ambition,
a driving force to make some kind of mark,
to cast my feeble light out in the dark
and so improve my overall condition?
To otherwise behave suggests perdition,
a life led without purpose or benchmark.
What would become of me?

If I accomplish nothing, what derision
will others heap upon my useless mission,
assuming I’m a bum lost in the park,
my fortune come to nil and prospects stark?
What would become of me?

26 Jun 2025

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On Poetry and Prettiness

Published on June 5, 2025

Poetry does not need to be pretty.
It is a distillation of images, of ideas,
to their primary essence.

Poetry is not about cleverness,
although you have to smart to use it well.
Maybe not book-smart,
but your eyes need to see the world
as it is, as it could be, and as it was:
and each in the other two.

Some say it’s about the show, not tell,
but showing someone a sheet of music
isn’t about what it looks like
on the printed page.
There are rules you need to know, sometimes,
that can serve as prison bars,
or a box spring.

Poetry does not need to “make” sense.
It is for the senses.
It should move you
as if you were a dancer,
and the song
was the only thing in the world
stuck with you in the amber of time.

05 Jun 2025

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Travel Plans: englyn unodl union

Published on May 29, 2025

In retrospect, I should have known:
if the world changes, you have grown. Doesn’t mean
it’s all neat and clean. You’re shown
maybe a thing or two, alone.

You have a choice. Choose to care.
It matters how you get there; the end
depends on it. So beware:
life’s not a solo affair.

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The Write to Read: caudate sonnet

Published on April 28, 2025

What good to write when so few have the time
to do much more than nod and swipe me gone?
Opinions vary, but to ramble on
without an audience seems too sublime.
Besides, what difference can a few short lines
make when the world needs changing, not anon,
but here and now, before the chance is gone?
The line between much good, and none, is fine.

What matter does it make, ten thousand friends,
when only two or three may even try
to navigate through streams of postured talk
that lives for but a moment, then it ends,
before it has a chance to qualify
as something just more useful than a rock?

You read me? I’m in shock.

It does me good to think of you out there,
afloat in that great ether realm, somewhere;
I write on, since you care.

Together, let us seek some peace of mind;
there is no limit to what we can find.

28 APR 2025

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Your Feet Know the Way: benison

Published on April 21, 2025

Your path begins there at your feet;
the first move is the hardest one.
Until the last step is complete
you will not know the task is done.

Along the way, you’ll see the world;
you’ll wonder why, and how, and when,
and sift through miles of sand, and pearls,
each whole day through, and then again.

What answers will you seek, or find,
no one else knows. They are your own.
If you will learn, or lose your mind,
depends on you and you alone.

You have a choice, with every breath:
to love or hate, to lose or gain,
to see rebirth in every death,
to seek out joy or dwell on pain.

May you find what you need to do
to build more bridges where you can,
so that when your time here is through
you don’t regret taking a stand.

Your path begins right here and now;
your feet already know the way.
You need not wonder where, or how,
but only when: and that’s today.

21 APR 2025

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