Sonnet 25

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2007/02/18
Sonnet 25

I know the feel of emptiness, at rest
Within the valley of my throat, a cliff
Of granite swallowing up night, possessed
By how far, how soon, not how to nor if.

Some preparations I tolerate the taste
But expel quickly, all the remnants rinsed.
That which ventures further is but waste
Whose meat speaks like a poet unconvinced.

I don't mind smoke, the smooth carress of gin,
The heat of certain juices, water's ease
-- Little else of substance ventures in.

My throat feels open, pure and fresh and clean,
No god above nor under me to please
-- My breath like thin air, quiet and serene.

Tagged with: ,

Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: