Sonnet 215

On March 31, 2019January 12, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

In truth, you would beseech me endlessly,
And evermore heap guilt upon my breast.
A child of love you wished to thus conceive,
A secret trust that no one here might guess.
No obligation, none, you staunch did swear-
No ties, no times or labors to confound;
Just you, your child, and hope to here forbear,
And I a memory lost, my life unbound.
No simple matter to unyoke a heart,
And so to leave a shackled soul to roam;
Though I, in pleasured moment play my part,
Yet there condemn my conscience to a tomb.
A life so precious must spring forth from love,
Or I the dastard left, with naught to prove.

The Empress’s Clothes

On March 31, 2019May 21, 2023 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

A woman’s geography’s
Considered pornography
So everywhere that she goes.

She’s constrained unto modesty
So many times all that we see
Is face, fingers, hands, arms and toes.

A blatant indignity
At least at the beach where might be-
A veritable lacking of robes.

There strident ‘don’t look at me’
Embraces hypocrisy-
Most everything hidden now shows.

This seems pure inequity
Or at least rank false piety…
For empresses sometimes have clothes.

Sonnet 214

On March 30, 2019December 18, 2021 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

What is true love? Perhaps not ever after;

Does it survive beyond the beating heart?

When souls dissolve into thin vapored matter

Does love so tarry or with souls depart?

What essence yet lives on in memory

To tempt sweet tears or smiles thought may bring,

And when dear voices into darkness flee,

What forces raise their echoes on the wind?

Does love then fade like music in a room

Or yet like perfume on a bridal gown,

Evanesce as light trapped in a tomb

Or wane like haunting bagpipe dirges blown?

In hope love lingers ever and beyond,

So says my prayers here captured in this song.

Sonnet 213

On March 24, 2019December 25, 2021 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

I remember us speaking when you returned,
Yet we spoke not of your most rank deceit,
Preferring platitudes as if we’d learned
That biting rancour thrives on harsh critique.
Deft words did probe my heart as if to find
Perhaps an ember left in ashes grey,
A little spark or glow love left behind,
Sweet breaths unto a flame might there parlay.
Puffery was wasted, the hearth stayed cold;
Stone cold, without a glim of hope afore,
And where once smarm could rattle dying coals
Into a raging pyre; now here no more.
This love, black cinders where no Phoenix lives:
Five hundred years or more could not forgive.

Sonnet 212

On March 10, 2019January 12, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

These pleasures of the flesh, my soul decry,
Yet powerless am I to thwart their throes;
And of us two, which one shall here decide
To honor promise and make lust our foe?
All wrongs seem right when you are in my arms;
What truthful vows can we not thus amend?
Proud passion brief, wherein does lie the harm
If on the morrow we to truth commend?
My hunger for your body grates my soul;
Your lips inflame me with a madness sweet;
Your warm caresses all my heart cajole,
All mortal reason vanquished here complete.
No gods or demons could this fervor quell;
As we assail the very gates of hell.