April Adjunct

On April 25, 2022July 9, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

The birds now build a nest

And milk comes to the breast

The world moves on and I

Bemoan the by and by

The bees buzz on the air

The fox prepares his lair

The proud hawk floats on high

As tears rise to the eye

Pert buds sway on the trees

Sweet songs waft on the breeze

The whippoorwills apprise

Of some soul near demise

Puff clouds move gently on

And soon the spring is gone

No good to wonder why

I look at you and sigh

Sonnet 542

On April 25, 2022June 5, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

There is no scalpel edge, no well honed word

That cuts more deeply than incisive hate

So parting flesh unto it’s beating core

And marking scars to bear to heaven’s gate.

There is no venom that could poison so

Where but a single drop could legions raze;

No piercing eyes to run the very soul

As found within that vicious rapier gaze.

What demon now does your gaunt form possess

Where here I see the skull conform the skin,

Those bony fingers that the mace now grasps

Foul set to bludgeon with a fang gaped grin.

Would I have yet been blessed to see that curse,

Or more to heed, ‘for better or for worse’.

Sonnet 541

On April 25, 2022October 2, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

So was he venerated there in death

By jealous lips that now defied all bounds,

Where by extolling merit bright in breath

Paid homage to their own gilt lofty sounds.

Speaking loudly as if the pledge so read

Bombastically ascribed proud pious praise,

Yet still upon some granite to be set

To crown the hallowed plots of further graves.

They did not care for him in his brief life

Save for his lauded portion of the sun

That so out shone their light of murky strife,

Or dulled the music of smug songs they’d sung.

Here still to claim some virtue of the man

Where words of him yet to themselves commend.

Sonnet 540

On April 18, 2022October 23, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

I held the world ransom with my pen

Daring that I would soon reveal it’s sins

And bring rank faults unto the scathing scan

Of every eye that deftly truth defends.

The world laughed and said “you silly boy,

You are of lowly birth, what can you prove

And from the throng, who hears a lonely voice

That ever could dark hearts of stone so move?”

You are correct suggesting I am one —

But every line begins by single word

And words unto more words beget a song

So sung by lips of truth ‘til all is heard.

There is no greater lever held by man,

So heed my quill and ‘give me where to stand’.

Sonnet 539

On April 18, 2022November 5, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

What slim dimensioned art could herald you,

You whose sovereign grace yet knows no bounds?

Whether plumbed by sight or weighed by virtue true,

No bottom there or scale of worth be found.

No sculpture, portrait or fine script borne praise

Could ever mark your poise, nor yet no song

Sung here by angels heralding second days

Might more swell breasts of hearts where you belong.

No hand of man, or still…what hand of God,

Save that which blessed your pilgrimage to earth—

Could frame a work not deemed a grand facade,

All acts there planned full mortified in mirth?

Ethereal in scope, what skill dare read;

Where every eye that stares stays so agreed.

Sonnet 538

On April 16, 2022June 5, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

The world is now too full of self it seems,

Material ethos worshiped like the sun;

Pride subject to false virtue there to deem

The rights of many slave but to the one.

No point of view may counter that which is

And that which is now but a point of view

Designed to close all doors where freedom lives

There to the wicked, power to accrue.

What once was right now ever seeming wrong,

What once was white now fifty shades of grey,

All words of truth full censored by the throng

With fear to throttle what the wise may say.

A Tower of Babel reaching to the skies;

Assured to court disaster and demise.

Sonnet 537

On April 16, 2022July 9, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

There is no proclaimed flower nor yet no

Ascribed weed immured by fate within it’s

Hour, adjudged by outward grace alone;

But in her scented glory yet she sits

Assessed of worth there sole by sight and smell,

Rude soiled, shamed by vermin that do crawl

Between the petals of her blossom’s shell—

Who ravish, plunder and pure heartless gall.

Where is the story that she proudly holds

The clods of earth protecting them from rain

Or of the nectar that sustains the fold;

Her simple essence that assuages pain,

The quiet labors which afford each breath,

Or of that form to nourish yet in death.

Sonnet 536

On April 8, 2022November 13, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

I brusquely thrust my words into her mind

Lancing her thoughts as yet again, again,

That there her pleasured soul in wanton kind

Might cede her doubt and to my heart remain.

Dubiety poured forth along that keen,

Long filled by staid convention of the past;

Rapier lines that prudery would so deem

Licentious, lewd, lubricious, even crass.

But soft she did embrace the libertine,

And dewey-eyed she seeming understood

The discourse there that flirted nigh obscene

And so debauched, did intimate she would;

That conversation carried on past dawn

‘Til silence blessed the stains we laid upon.

Sonnet 535

On April 1, 2022November 13, 2022 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Is love then sparked by but a simple smile,

Or yet upon a twinkle of the eye;

Some artful quirk that can the heart beguile,

A testing moue upon the soul to try?

A spate of laughter floating on the air,

A graceful dally spun about the room,

A single curl of sun blessed raven hair

Or wafting scent as from a summer bloom?

Perhaps by all of these, or none at all;

A grand gestalt or yet some locus prime,

A fancied web there to sound wit enthrall

And so entangle, trussed by one’s own mind?

It is but pleasured bonds that bind me so

Yet of what essence, I may never know.

	Steven on Sonnet 556
	julesbikepoems on Sonnet 404
	Meramolin B. on Sonnet 414
	Thalena on In Black and White
	pairunoyd on A Thought

	Steven on Sonnet 556
	julesbikepoems on Sonnet 404
	Meramolin B. on Sonnet 414
	Thalena on In Black and White
	pairunoyd on A Thought

Loubert S Suddaby poems

Month: April 2022