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Nicky Goodman

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Member Since: May, 2006

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Dad - D Minus
by Nicky Goodman

Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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           >> View all 198

(sonnet, sort of, not)

Dad - D Minus

There was a sonnet twenty years ago
D Minus and written under duress
Little rhyme rebel and iambic flight
Scribbled in the middle of the longest night.
Witnessed, on the tips of tongues one more time,
Wriggling on the end of my fishing line
Behind blindfolded years I'm cutting loose -
'Grinning fish flying through the glaze...' Oh Joy!
Amazing...light flapping gills...sequins...of
Horror. Thirty years ago a pink pearl,
Wicker, basket, reeds, sonnet, river, ditch,
"Take the hook from its lip! Swim, little fish!
Swim!" Joy...Horror, weep, shiver...how now I
Missed to be with you...the fish, the river.





*
(c)Apr08



from, Simply This



Blindfolded




Blindfolded maiden under a blackening sky,
Swords unused, uncertainty climbs
The tower above warring factions:
Inner and outer realms, ideals and fractions,
Her true nature visible in the distance.
Held hostage in a windowless structure
Unfit to house a matching love.
Tiniest seeds take root, evolve
Outside the magic circle of the father;
Lovers entwined in Solomons' ancient house
Whose silent fruit blooms secretly inside the self.
No cherubs dot this landscape, no bespectacled patriarchs;
Her love contains all she seeks,
Cutting loose the blindfold of a lucid dream.





(c)Ross McCague 2008


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Reviewed by Karen Palumbo 4/2/2008
Interesting, enlightening and very well said...

Be always safe,
Karen
Reviewed by Debby Rosenberg 4/2/2008
hook, line, and sinker!
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart 4/2/2008
Nicky this is so original and compelling. Metaphorically brilliant!
Reviewed by Charlie 4/1/2008
I love this-- your sortanotta-- your first three lines are my favorite... reeling us in... and a little play in the third line-- too late to fight, we're hooked...
I find the last part to be almost like a different poem, but it belongs here... the tone is changed a bit (sorta like a true sonnet) we hear things tumbling from a dad's lips in splashy, bitty glimpses. Twenty minutes ago, I read a sonnet...
But in the end, we come to know quite a bit about him-- about his son--
Reviewed by Felix Perry 4/1/2008
Well done, and I can see that fish and hopefully one on the end of my line in a few weeks when the water warms up.

Fee
Reviewed by E T Waldron 4/1/2008
Excellent Nicki,I felt the struggle...
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 4/1/2008
A plus in my eyes - excellent, Nicky.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.



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