- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Perfect Line
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Click hereThe sparsely furnished room is lit by lamps,
three beacons against walls of raw cement
on which the shadows fall in arcs and slants
and drape my neck, unnaturally bent.
I thumb through indices, check zoning codes
and heiroglyph a bridge or streetcar rail.
Beneath my hand lines buckle, varicose,
or elegantly swing a coast to sail.
At hand I have a showcase armory
of pens, a compass, rulers, bottled black
and maps of every scale filed carefully,
pulled lovingly apart, then folded back.
My finest word is just a thing of twine
compared to one complete and perfect line.
- COMMENTS
clutching_calliopealmost 18 years agoseem (or seam) effortlessly is a true talent. Thank you, Rainy, for pointing this out. Great job, Mr. 373. More sonnets, please.
Calli
Tzaraalmost 18 years agosingularly appropriate here, Lord K. This is a wonderful sonnet. As others have said, no forced rhyme, and the theme (most of my family are engineers) touches particularly close to home.
One minor fault: "hieroglyph" is misspelled.
Welcome.
RhymeFairyalmost 18 years agomy friend.
Love your imagery and imagination.
You pulled us in and held close
your vision tunneled
to zero in ... on your pen ~
Nice one at that ~ Welcome to Lit ~
More Please~
annaswirlsalmost 18 years agohey hey welcome Kelvin! we welcome your heat hope you stick around, enjoy the view.
thanks for sharing your poem with us, much enjoyed!
