Day 13 of The Year Apart (and Sometimes Not)

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Davis began the week with a beautiful suggestion.

"Today’s Challenge:

Write a sonnet. 14 lines. a-b-a-b c-d-c-d e-f-e-f g-g format.

in iambic pentameter."

 

Here is Charles' piece:

 

"The poet sits before his moving screen

And here he types and tries to find the voice

Hidden within the time and rhyming scheme

But stunted by each every approaching choice

 

To simply put inside the blocks of words

An assembly of similes to convey his talent

Would sacrifice the flow for the absurd

And reveal that skill was something that he’d hadn’t

 

And yet the bastard spilled across the page

and worked his way into a passioned clip

His early lines he chocked them up to age

He trusted that the point would start to tip

 

And thus he’d found himself damn near the end

And told himself he’d have to try again"

 

And here is Davis' piece:

 

"

I walk and think ‘bout that which I have lost

The innocence and boyhood dreams I’ve known

I’ve grown into a man; and at what cost?

To be mature, and, to be sure, alone

 

When I was young, my dreams were open skies

Boundless as they boldly twist and turn’d

And now those dreams, I’m told, are distant lies

Isolated by the fear I’ve learned

 

I must defy the nature of this path

And so, my love, my dreams I cannot scorn

To pierce the shell of crippling terror’s wrath

And live the purpose for which I was born

 

I pray we crack the many masks of men

And birth anew our purity again