one poem; two layouts
Posted: July 6th, 2005, 5:44 am
O wan, o corpse-pale thought of having loved once;
bloated with exaggeration,
bruised with falsely held resuscitation hopes
(sweet ‘maybe yes’ imaginative dreams):
it’s not as love has died,
but rather trust
of recognizing with a cognate heart
the mutuality respect adores is love
my thought uneven so deplores when thinking
you were truly loved
and party to my soul.
O that entrenching just for true respect—and that for love,
it seems in meditative truth,
renewing gropes respect for love itself
(perhaps amused at any less)—
let me be so removed.
or
O wan, o corpse-pale thought of having loved
once; bloated with exaggeration, bruised
with falsely held resuscitation hopes
(sweet ‘maybe yes’ imaginative dreams):
it’s not as love has died, but rather trust
of recognizing with a cognate heart
the mutuality respect adores
is love my thought uneven so deplores
when thinking you were truly loved and party
to my soul. O that entrenching just
for true respect—and that for love, it seems
in meditative truth, renewing gropes
respect for love itself (perhaps amused
at any less)—let me be so removed.
[Not sure which layout fits better here. I wrote it first as a chiastic sonnet (the second layout here), but thought I'd toy around with the presentation to see if I could strenghten it in other ways...any suggestions?]
bloated with exaggeration,
bruised with falsely held resuscitation hopes
(sweet ‘maybe yes’ imaginative dreams):
it’s not as love has died,
but rather trust
of recognizing with a cognate heart
the mutuality respect adores is love
my thought uneven so deplores when thinking
you were truly loved
and party to my soul.
O that entrenching just for true respect—and that for love,
it seems in meditative truth,
renewing gropes respect for love itself
(perhaps amused at any less)—
let me be so removed.
or
O wan, o corpse-pale thought of having loved
once; bloated with exaggeration, bruised
with falsely held resuscitation hopes
(sweet ‘maybe yes’ imaginative dreams):
it’s not as love has died, but rather trust
of recognizing with a cognate heart
the mutuality respect adores
is love my thought uneven so deplores
when thinking you were truly loved and party
to my soul. O that entrenching just
for true respect—and that for love, it seems
in meditative truth, renewing gropes
respect for love itself (perhaps amused
at any less)—let me be so removed.
[Not sure which layout fits better here. I wrote it first as a chiastic sonnet (the second layout here), but thought I'd toy around with the presentation to see if I could strenghten it in other ways...any suggestions?]