Category Archives: Sonnet

American Greatness Lies Bleeding Sonnet

Abraham Lincoln airily declared

“With malice toward none[:] charity for all”

& then was like a dog by racists slayed

Thus continuing America’s fall

Into the deepest abyss we have moved

A trench under five miles of racism

The rotation of our caliber grooved

Marching blithely towards modern fascism

The Identity Politics of Race

(Thought to be the scourge of all us colloreds)

Has taken DW Griffith’s face

& will drag us down with these poor dullards

The American Election has said

World War Three’s coming bringing death instead

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White-Black Supremacy Sonnet

There’s a measure of White Supremacy

In our Blackness’s complex alchemy

This identity takes complacency

So that we do the work of hatred, see?

For individual identities

Have been put in conflict with each other

Because of artificial scarcities

We are set to have brother kill brother

It’s an artificial zero sum game

Where egos must have winners & losers

(For it is impossible we’re the same)

& hence society favors bruisers

Remember the suspicion you feel

Is a key part of racism’s raw deal

http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/nyc-crime/ny-metro-timi-oyebola-suspect-brooklyn-20181001-story.

America & Americans Sonnet

I wish I could clearly sing the praises

Of America & Americans

Whom the high bar of decency raises

Even after our recent concussions

Although we jump out of a checkered past

The rules of our game were fairest back then

& our best impulses try to hold fast

To those ideals of the enlightenment

I won’t focus on insecurity

That short-sighted fear & greed nurtures

Our greatest wealth is our humanity

(Liberty’s carcass circled by vultures!)

Right now I am told to fear the others

But in my heart I know they’re my brothers

Sanctimony Sonnet

Am I happy being right all the time?

Does this certitude make me feel better?

(Certainty’s a higher pay grade than mine

Remember, opinions our souls just fetter)

So, as wittily as possible, we

Try to tear down others’ Peoples thinking;

It’s mostly for our vanity, see

(•Ecclesiastes• described our shrinking)

So we squeeze onto righteousness’ bus

Rush Hour, in traffic: sanctimonious

We defend our banal opinions: tough

(It is for identity that we thrust)

We’ve completely forgotten who we are

By staring down Smart-Phones hand-held st

Gratitude Sonnet (7-24-18)

I need to cultivate more gratitude
By focusing on my life’s abundance
(Now this won’t give me any certitude
It will reduce ego’s interference)

The rainbows climb down from the summer rain
& the flowers sprout from forgotten seeds
My attitude is created the same
By fertilizing life with those good deeds

Creating by alchemy this treasure
Demands wizardry of faith enduring
I’ll never find peace searching for pleasure
But it’s duty’s byproduct assuring

Now I have paid gratitude obeisance
I hope that my faith will have more frequence

Calculated Risks Sonnet

We all take calculated risks each day
To remind us that we are living free
Most of the time there is nothing to pay
But, occasionally, our luck does flee

We should all lament all of the accidents
That our foolish pride leads us to create
Fatal or criminal, they never relent:
We play with chance, until we meet our fate  

The liabilities that, carelessly,
We bring into our individual
Universes: both thought & thoughtlessly
Pay people eternal residuals

This man will never be at liberty
To make the mistakes of chance & then flee

“Motorcyclist killed after blowing stop sign, crashing into SUV in Queens” http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/nyc-crime/ny-motorcyclist-killed-suv-queens-crash-20180721-story.html

Lost Sonnet Sonnet

I wrote a sonnet on an envelope

About the scope of my students writing

I’d just read an exploration of Hope

In beginner’s rough English challenging

The essay before that one was superb

Exploring determinism using

A Kurt Vonnegut book absurd

In these papers was the range of learning

Alas, I stuffed envelope unopened

Into the pocket of my cargo shorts

It had my membership card that they send

When you donate MoMA ǝʞıן a sport

Those fourteen lines about my students’ work

Are lost forever, I feel like a jerk