Sunday, January 27, 2008

Unreadable Mysteries

This is a mystery you cannot read.
No trail of clues, no puzzles to resolve
no clever sleuth a-hunt as fogs dissolve
in gaslight. Empty streets and voiceless need
the backwash of a heartless city's greed--
the tropes of noir don't make this plot revolve.
Nor are our heroes struggling to absolve
themselves of some long-hidden sorry deed
by doing good. No, here's our secret text:
the paths untaken, stories that have forked
from common root, but grown beyond our sight.
Who drank the wine from bottles I left corked,
who slept while I went dancing every night,
and when, my heart, will she and I meet next?

7 comments:

paisley said...

you must be able to write those in your sleep by now... they are so difficult for me!!!!

Dennis said...

I always feel so poetically insignificant after I read your work. I'm lucky my poems are on my computer and not somewhere where I can rip them up

tumblewords said...

Ah, I'd give an eyetooth to be half as good as you...

sister AE said...

I love the way all those "nots" plant false suggestions that ratchet up the tension and unease.

SweetTalkingGuy said...

Yeah, it takes a lot of discipline to write a sonnet and you do it so well!

Revathi said...

Great way with English!! Concept too..

anthonynorth said...

Perfectly done. An inspiration.