Month: April 2023

Sonnet 586

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
The female heart oft veils a bold deceit—
Yet rolls bright eyes at all who choose to vet her.
While true, both sexes will prevaricate,
Of that dark art, the gentler proves the better.
Bemoaning value based on looks alone
She nonetheless will paint and primp to flatter;
Of future beaus—character’s deemed touchstone
Yet station, berth and purse by size full matters.
Perhaps here lies why men do oft enhance
All things that bend to rank or scale or measure,
Half knowing that her under-stated stance
Is largely based on status, sway and treasure.
Of lies, by lies and for sweet lies we live—
For truth in love oft stands a paltry sieve.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 585

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Love is a promise written in thin air
Not scribed in ink nor stamped on steadfast stone,
Sweet slender lines of strength beyond compare
Outlasting vellum, slate and burnished bronze.
It is a tenet pledged on hope and time
By words dream-born in proud and earnest verse
To stay a maxim locked within the mind,
Devotion rendered, heart and soul immured.
Still what I write  for you here matters not,
Your essence shuns the reach of mortal hand
And though I strive, I ever grasp but naught—
These paltry words, as though soft writ in sand.
Love is a covenant graved in Heaven’s blue
That I here breathe—and by each breath hold true.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 584

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
For I have searched the corridors of love,
Empty and cold, drab flowers on the wall;
Far still by heart, fair little left to move
And yet, more less, my soul to so enthrall.
Were I a beast of burden—or a bird…
By instinct set to prance and procreate,
Happiest in the act, not in the word
Where love lurks as but lust to satiate.
Am I a puppet drawn upon thin strings
Of acid base—Oh what an irony!
Perhaps such contradiction might yet bring
Some sane solution to my anomie—
I fear for God, by sin I here atone,
For where is she that’s meant for me alone?

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 583

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Do not apologize for the wrath of Time
For every countenance his blade shall score;
Each visage born of flesh, though once sublime,
By siege of life shall feel that ruthless sword.
What battle grand does not bestow its scars
Where staunchest ardor did by heart propel,
What greater proof of undiminished wars
Than marks recalling Caesar’s glorious hell?
For of such passage where’s the sign of strife
If cherub faces counted struggles waged,
Yet bore no badge of unforgiving fight
And how they triumphed nobly o’er that rage.
Unblemished faces here shall court despise—
True warriors seldom sport a flawless guise.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 582

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
You cannot force a fancy on my mind;
Truth is the glass that shows reality,
Though critics parse the logic they may find,
There still remains one actuality.
All human fancy is subject to gloss
That’s oft by will or happenstance contrived,
Through wit alone are misperceptions tossed
For sole by reason is a proof derived.
Where once man did believe the world was flat
And that the earth was center for the sun,
Such misconceptions here now make us laugh,
While Galileo’s chains spoke truth alone—
Reason be damned, embrace the common thought;
Heretics burn that flout the orthodox!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved

Sonnet 581

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
What wealth by trade could your sweet love dispose,
Or yet, what belle usurp you as my lover?
The bond we share outshines all sovereign gold;
And finest lusts are but a paltry bother.
No earthly arms can hold the gifts we share;
No wonders of the world boast nobler cause;
No plunder of the heart could top the wares
That seem as gifts bestowed by doting gods.
Our love alone transcends all mortal worth
And by its’ truest form bests earthborn prize—
For all the fashioned bounties of this earth
Can’t dim the truth and beauty, love provides.
Though chattels oft corrupt the soul of man—
Kokoro shows love’s worth in full command.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved

Sonnet 580

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
So little honor still remains in men,
Their souls corrupted by the glint of gold;
And of their worth, what adage to append
When to the tomb—as all men—they must go?
Should carats now define one’s character,
Or eminence be weighed upon a scale?
Should purity to acid tests defer?
Will wealth alone at heaven’s gate prevail?
By measure such, dear values we demean
And all the treasures of sweet life confound,
All purposed gifts of being, wax obscene—
The crux of human grace debased to ground.
By sculpting gods from clay of common earth,
We bow our souls to emptiness, not worth.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.