sargasso sonnetdom

[mindbum]

lush veneer of drifting deep blue water
and your hair is like the sargasso sea
an intricate web of life much farther
from land than water. portugal says the
curlyheaded girl is the kind of nest
i'm going for. and kept, snared in that
trap with scooby and shaggy and the rest
who walk across that legend seaweed mat.
a pirate ghost what plays the harpsichord,
dissembled wrecks and forgotten fleets with
any other lost at sea in a myth.
as fish and eels-come-home call: all aboard

to any vacation that breaks the bank
far enough from land it cant be a prank.

¢

and your hair is like the sargasso sea
tangled, adrift, supporting existence
among the weed. i can walk in nascence
from wreck to vessel, myth to cautious lee.
drifting ellipse. turning calm of ocean
currents. and shaggy wants to play a game
of poker for any snack i can find.
all there is on the nearest hulk: motion,
treasure and kelp called breakfast. what a shame
says shaggy (counting cards) three of a kind.
fuck the ghost. i'm hungry. don’t these pirates
ever eat? how bout rod and reel i say
and neon lines. eels and dolphinfish and plates.
we'll burn a hulk to boil our scaly prey.

¢

the motion mentioned is water, is tides
is ocean. open and less than jagged
like a cutlass slice. calm motion pervades
and your hair is like the sargasso sea.

c'mon shaggy i cant stand to be begged.
like, fly fishing in the bermuda tri-
angle? he says. man i cant wait to see.

(the ocean is hard to keep your hook dry)

we'll eat tonight even if it is fish.
that's shaggy again. this time he succeeds.
he knows how to cast and quickly fills his dish
with what swims among the fertile waterweeds.

if atlantis rose one day this is where
it surfaces like rides at the county fair.

¢

old harpsichord played by a pirate ghost.
blue or black or red beard. some color sailor.
baited net of music. another tangle
in the weeds. a theme for the triangle.

the tune lends an air. song like a tailor.
ties up rigging and patches sails. the most
you can ask for from a pirate's melo-
dy is magic fit to sail a clippership.

and such turns this tune. notes to wake each wreck
seem to make every vessel echo
with intimate sounds that resemble lips
that sing harmony as from evry deck.

and your hair is like the sargasso sea
with secret songs you put a spell on me

¢

5 trees lost at sea. trunks and sturdy
limbs, long floating, come now to rest in weed
tangled, bound and gagged, like in a dirty
picture or magazine. for sex: plead or bleed.

and your hair is like the sargasso sea
where things without course tend to congregate
where words like driftwood and jetsam, easy
nautical appellations, come to the plate.

the spiral, cyclical notions that he
produces casting for a well-mannered
snack are contagious and continuous
through shaggy's single desire. and the
necessary motion of other ideas ensnared
in this ragged sea is stark and curious.

¢

me and shaggy make a pile of shit we
hope to burn. some way to turn up the heat.
most everything in the ocean is soggy.
i hope this spittoon will do. says shaggy.
seawater and kelp squishing at his feet.

and your hair is like the sargasso sea
tender turns of metallic drastic curls

yes we get the fire to go despite
an abundance of wet wind that unfurls.
double double and insistent words of care
brought to a boil on a fire: heat and light.

one for you. two for me. shaggy says again
one for you. two for me. is always fair.

eels and fish-come-home swim the spittoon and grin

¢

one skeletal wreck that stands with less of
a listing angle than other members
of this lost fleet of compromised vessels.

this one houses the harpsichord above
all other objects of value and treasures.
the music, tune, magic escapes portals
and saturates this neglected region.
whether found or lost this weedy legion
arranges itself and sings along.

and your hair is like the sargasso sea
tangling me like noodles on silver prongs
turning to the next note which is the be-
ginning of what came up so quick before
marooned on a wet world of myth or lore.

¢

[Zlatko Waterman]

Lively and witty imagery and a good narrative, MB.

Just hearing the beautiful word "Sargasso" repeated over and over is a bonus . . .


--Z

[mindbum]

nothin like narrative sonnet sequences. yippy.

thanks zlatko. (a name almost as fun to say as sargasso)

[hester_prynne]

Very very tasty piece here M.B.
Bravo
H


PS I was listening to Peggy Lee singing "Deep Purple" when I read this....it added the perfect ambiance.

[Doreen Peri]

This doesn't really use a sonnet format, mindbum. It has 10-syllable lines (even though 10 syllables, not really pentameter), and without the required iambic emphasis on the syllables. Aw, but hell, what do I know?

None of that matters, because you called it a "sonnetdom" anyway...... a very cool coined word, and most of all.... the piece rocks!

You use some excellent imagery and the rhythms and story carry the reader through, easily and with an engaging pace.

Plus, it's got heart. Lots of it. And passion.

I enjoyed this very much. Thank you for sharing it!

[mindbum]

surely there's one line of pentameter.

if you really analyze it i'm sure i slant a rhyme or three. and rhyme schemes do some neat pairings.

i'm a bad counter. and frankly just bad at following rules when they make my hackles rise. an iamb has little to do with how i can think. so i compromise with myself and keep in the 10 syllable range. these were the last sonnets i wrote. they're getting to be a few years old. i'll be writing some directly. a series. writing one sonnet leaves a bad taste in your mouth. but i dont think i could bend on the counting. it's the play. i'll call it advancement. first you had shakespeare. (and spenser and italians and petrarch... yadda and on.) then you get e.e. cummings. my two favorite sonneteers. i want to grasp more onto narrative sonnet feel. a little rhyme scheme to throw things in an odd light and hammer out some lines.

those are blades sharp as any puzzle.

i'm going to write sloth sonnets.

beyond alla this flimflam.

thanks doreen (and H) for tasting this briny treasure.

oh and 'the rhythms and story carry the reader through... pace.' that's why it's ok it's not iambic pentameter. what do you say to that?

[Doreen Peri]

yeah... there are many lines of pentameter in there, just not all, and if I didn't know you wrote what you just wrote, i mighta thought I wrote it because I think the same way....

bring on more series.... seriesously

I love it! you are very talented



(and that's no flimflam)