Month: November 2022

Sonnet 567

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
What does it mean that I should die for you,
That you should thrive, I give my final breath?
What greater act of love, if this be true—
Than sealing in my blood, a vow till death?
You show no joy for any gifts I bring
And every prize bestows but fleeting smiles,
Your stony ears refuse the songs I sing
And steely eyes look on me from a mile.
I feel as naught, though you are all my life—
My heart, my soul, my one eternal flame;
Yet for faint favor I endure this strife,
Still praying that one day you’ll bear my name.
Love is a prison—thus it proves to be,
Where one who cares the least fair holds the key.

© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 566

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
What praise lies in the raiments of a king?
What power rests within a jeweled crown—
And to earth’s son’s, what psalms are fit to sing
Where lineage alone confers renown?
What gives one being right by blood to rule?
What crux of life ordains a better birth?
What vain conceit is held by jesters’ fools
That they mouth scripted lines of paltry worth?
The merit of all men lies in their deeds
Where by invention they so prove their right,
For unearned honor ever truth impedes
And patronage damns every hope to blight.
From crowded masses let that soul arise;
To stand alone—and dare to touch the skies.

© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

A Lover’s Lament

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
What should I say of you and love
The nightingale and turtle dove
Once sang our song to gods above;
What of love to blame?
You said my heart you’d ever hold
That hearth once warm now here lies cold
Dear promises sworn ever bold,
Surely damned to shame.
Still what to do when love is lost
And sweetest dreams stand naught but dross
All hope to Hell there seeming tossed,
Who could bear this pain?
I see you now upon the heather
In sunshine or in foul weather
With another soul to tether
In your hapless game.
A wish, a whim, a prayer to state
An orison at Heaven’s gate
A malison bestowed by fate,
All shall bear your name.

© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 565

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Ice water veins and muscles deft and right,
Rapt mind full fixed upon the gliding knife;
The grip upon the handle firm but light
As tissues splay whilst spilling forth their life.
A muted buzz to stem the surging tide—
Staunch suction pursed to swill the overflow;
Numbed full, the corpus cleaved, a book spread wide,
Sheer layered lines loom ‘neath the head lamps’ glow.
Deep lies the demon in his hidden lair
Snarled tentacles insidious and grey,
Pure malice mingles with dread death’s despair,
Of purpose bent to murder or betray.
The duel rages, hours in minutes pass—
And now the evil fettered up in glass.

© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 564

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Splayed on my shipwrecked life I drift and muse
Enthralled by spectral forms that rise and fall
As white caps crest along the rolling blue,
Wind fetched by storms now tamed to tempered squalls.
How vast the ocean, minuscule the strand
Who by the mighty main is ever tried;
Upheaved in ire upon approach to land—
Froth fisted fury, yet conquest there denied.
Ah still they come to flail the mighty down
As if by constancy they can prevail
And swell in force that nereids too may drown,
Spawned so by distant tempests, borne by gales.
Perhaps they’ve won here after all this time…
And I should now commend my soul to brine.
© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved

Sonnet 563

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
What care I now that you should love me so,
For were I gone, you would soon find another;
Yea, ‘ere the grass upon my grave could grow
Your arms would surely clasp a fresh-found lover.
What say we then—that love should ever stand,
Where simple audit proves it rarely true?
What oath once sworn can passion not remand—
And so of “ever after”, what say you?
Love is a dream in which fond souls partake
In fantasies of bonds that outlast time,
Where tales of loyalty still hearts awake…
False fancies of two hearts forever twined.
Eternal love? A wisp of fleeting breath—
That sings of specious constancy ‘til death.
© Loubert S. Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 562

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

What of those eyes that heaven did so bless,
Alluring smiles to best telluric dreams;
Lithe, loving arms that lonely souls caress,
Smooth satin skin soft gilded by moonbeams.
A sylphid spirit sailing through the night;
Sweet murmured songs to soothe the savage beast
In tones to shame bold Orpheus in his plight
When he soft sang to save Eurydice.
Yet here on earth, behold this paragon 
With all the carnal chattels of desire—
A sultry sprite to every heart so warm
That it may melt or burn in love stoked fire.
A spectral sight to ever haunt the mind—
And with closed eyes, too often there to find.
 
© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved