This weekend, I picked up 100 Love Sonnets by the 1971 Nobel Laureate and my favorite poet, Pablo Neruda. He dedicated the entire book, every line, word and phrase to his beloved wife. With that in mind, I have decided to try my hand at a similar, though much smaller endeavor. I will write 20 sonnets and post them as they come. The term sonnet will be more a loose reference than a strict adherence. I will try to maintain an octet and sextet. I have written 2 sonnets today, so here they are.
Sonnet I
The twilight brings you to me
your thick-as-night hair destined
to entwine about my body, as heat
wrapped round the sun.
In your earthy-eyes, I see
the wheat and deep-soil color of kisses
of your lips pressed against my open heart
and the pulse of harvest, of wine.
Your hips, my portion of the moon
the sway and pounding of sea-salt
in the air, on my skin, in my body --
you have taken dominion.
May you produce a new measure, a new
world in me with your earth-forming eyes
and echo of endless foam.
Sonnet II
You are the heiress of beauty, a ray of stardust
of fire, of flame. Lighting in me that hot tempest,
you melt my bones and take the marrow of my manhood
for your own.
You drink me in with little sips, like lemonade
on summer days. Salty and biting, I go in your mouth
and traverse the insides of your body,
exploring the hidden hills with dark clarity.
My wild-fire, when your hands have seared my heart
and my blood boils with longing, when your pink'd
cheeks have scalded this white chest and burnt
into this body of wood, take me as your own --
Take me and recall my oaken fragility,
let the scent of my burning be your stonghold.
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1 comment:
Wow, your writing is incredibly haunting and evocative, and definitely Neruda-esque.
I don't have my own poetry to share, but here is one of my favorites by Pablo:
This is another one of my favorites of his:
The Potter
Your whole body holds
a goblet or gentle sweetness destined for
me.
When I let my hand climb,
in each place I find a dove
that was looking for me, as if
my love, they had made you out of clay
for my very own potter's hands.
Your knees, your breasts,
your waist
are missing in me, like in the hollow
of a thirsting earth
where they relinquished
a form,
and together
we are complete like one single river,
like one single grain of sand.
- Found on the Red Poppy Website!
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