crucified with broken nails

as wayward grains escape the hourglass, night plows over day,
done is past and past is gone, except remorseful witness,
relentless torture prompting even faithless men to pray,
strident pleas absolving deeds are bearing false forgiveness

like gardeners pruning bonsai trees, to shape the future seen,
mortals choose which sins to show as guilt refines transgression,
contrived contrition, likeness planned to mold a visage clean

lucite smiles and visine eyes concoct a masked impression
for spit and polish highlight tarnish, dour defects obscene,
fatal scars inscribed by sins ignored at last confession

instead of slowly rotting, crucified with broken nails,
cast aside with honor stained, bereft, alone and mourning,
esteem engraves a peaceful guise where moral wealth prevails,
nothing’s veiled by virtue’s truthful tenets self-adorning

© EAW, All rights reserved

None Can Say

Should morning bless my life with breath and sunlight meant to please,
giving me another chance to act without contrition,
with courage strong to right my wrongs in efforts to appease,
forgiveness sought, the slate wiped clean of my own volition.

Should evening come to rest with me in solitary note
weaving orphan thoughts of past through remnants left from waking,
with fragment dreams and empty frames of pictures they connote.

Sorrow’s sharp in sightless hours with bygone forfeits aching
and war drums beat unceasing, clenching tight against my throat,
aim to sleep but left to weep til midnight clocks start breaking.

To stand up tall and move ahead with present locked in past,
memories endure past setting sun’s indifferent waning.
Accepting loss and facing joyous days in frail contrast,
none can say how long to grieve or how much life’s remaining.

Eclipsing Winter

With sorrow square on shoulders bent, with weight to smother joy,
piercing blight, a numbing stab like chilling bones of winter,
maintaining guise as days endure, wan smile a frail decoy,
stoic stance to demonstrate that shattered smiles don’t splinter.

Assumptive comfort’s echoes play through home of hollowed sound,
clustered shrines with near-forgotten faces, framed and fading,
reminders march unceasing, blinded griefs surround.

Prying eyes can’t fathom truths, her secret wounds evading,
when fears eclipse with mute response as meddling traits abound,
silent guard of future barred excludes abject parading.

The past, a breach she can’t repair, it rests as granite-sealed,
cryptic walls formed not to fall, a dubious endurance.
Beyond despair, with strength unmatched, compassion’s gift revealed
warmth beyond great loss exists if only granted entrance.

~*~

attest

as days wear long and patience weak, an inward glance reveals
swirling thoughts, emotions roil as wild confusion rages
and wedges cleave through fragile bonds in spite of our appeals,
wounding scars that flare before a doubting quest engages.

some things aren’t said, they’re understood, a foil in life’s vignette,
features firm with worthy flaws, all traits ingrained completely,
to tell it all would be a task I can’t accomplish yet.

commonplace for one is not a view to share discretely,
of scenes mundane, repeating themes with challenges unmet,
piercing notes to crumpled mess to sweep away completely.

but still the need to learn and know breeds queries new each day,
pressure rising undisguised with hungered pains unceasing.
though hard to grasp, the presence of unhidden truths betray,
deconstruct to build unease with trust in trust decreasing.

 Image Source

~*~

This is the Sonnet version of Stress Matrix Dectet/Stress Checkerboard Stanza – invented by Luke Prater WordSalad: Luke Prater’s Poetry Weblog

14 lines, 14 syllables per line – aBaB cDc DcD eF eF

where lowercase are iambic heptameter (7 beats/stresses per line), and uppercase trochaic heptameter. This yields a perfect ‘checkerboard’ of stressed and unstressed syllables (14 x 14, equaling 196 syllables).

Depending on where the Volta arrives (the ‘turn’ – resolution, or at least, change in tone, crucial aspect to a sonnet), there are 3 different stanza layouts (the rhyme-scheme stays the same).

If the turn comes after the first eight lines, as it does in Italian Sonnets, the layout is aBa BcDcD cDe FeF. If it comes after line ten (unique!), then it’s aBaB cDc DcD eFeF (same as English but ending on a quatrain rather than the two couplets).