"Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness."
Khalil Gibran

Friday, March 3, 2017

Sonnet 33

Night Perfume
Kaoru Kawano (1950)
Fair Use


I wake with a sudden flush of heat
upon my skin (so suddenly the dream
is pulled adrift) a thought left incomplete,
an odour at the edges of the room:

these dog tail days of summer bind
sweat to salt to tears (they taste
of every desultory day I spent confined)
but let me perfume the damp corners
                                     of hope gone to waste.

When did the promise become ordinary?
All subject to this wear and tear (my edges
are ragged as seams unpicked) and no balm
for a life when I’m only halfway there.

What faint scent lingers in the crook of my arm?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bits of Imagination ~ Perfume is a prompt hosted by Susie Clevenger in the Imaginary Garden.

18 comments:

  1. Oh this is so deep, so very intense and philosophical, Kerry!❤️ Especially admire these lines; "these dog tail days of summer bind sweat to salt to tears (they taste of every desultory day I spent confined)but let me perfume the damp corners of hope gone to waste." Beautifully executed.


    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is beautifully done, Kerry.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I really love what you have done to the sonnet... wonderful enjambment making the read just the right kind of melancholy. I realize how I should break apart my sonnet a bit (that hanging line really added a lot)... The sense of an end of summer seems so far away... but I know its sadness.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Bjorn. I've been reading a few of e.e. cummings' sonnets and felt the urge to experiment with the line breaks (hence the parentheses) but I was not as confident to chop up the phrasing as he does...one does not dare emulate the master.

      Delete
  4. A beautiful sonnet Kerry! "When did the promise become ordinary?" I love that question! Truly spoken from a poet's heart.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Nice use of the sonnet form to illustrate what was dreamed to be to reality. Leaving only an unfinished scent.

    ReplyDelete
  6. What a gorgeous sonnet, Kerry. Just to point out a few stunners here:
    'an odour at the edges of the room'

    '(they taste
    of every desultory day I spent confined)
    but let me perfume the damp corners
    of hope gone to waste.'

    'When did the promise become ordinary?'

    ReplyDelete
  7. these dog tail days of summer
    bind sweat to salt to tears

    Perhaps the uneasiness of the ending of Spring to pass off too fast it brings the frightful end of summer to mind!

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  8. Scent must be a primordial relic in us, the way it seizes us so: epileptics often smell roses at the edges of fits: Yet always it's distaff, at edges, lingering -- invitations both to voyage and poem. You kept that scent gauzy and in traces, exactly where it is most deeply divine. What scent indeed lingers? You end with the dream.

    ReplyDelete
  9. There is such depth in this poem.......I so admire your work, Kerry.

    ReplyDelete
  10. "these dog tail days of summer bind
    sweat to salt to tears..." a magical line, Kerry--indeed that whole section rings, as a sonnet should, with an uncontrived but constant exercise in balance, and the off-balance elements only seem to enhance the sway. How often we wake like that(if we are lucky) in a suspension of dream-infused memory.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I love this sonnet!
    The odour of hope maybe? :)

    P.s - I love your blog :D

    ReplyDelete
  12. "hope gone to waste"

    Oh, dear goodness, some phrases tell whole stories... that stay with us for days. I wish I had written those words.

    ReplyDelete
  13. There is such melancholy in this, such a moment of facing questions. A beautiful sonnet. Thanks so much for taking part in the prompt.

    ReplyDelete
  14. love, and death, or at least the death of love ~

    ReplyDelete
  15. Very sensory. I find myself breathing in deeply.

    ReplyDelete

Let's talk about it.