Archive for the sonnet Category

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Superleggera

Posted in poetry, sonnet with tags , , , on November 14, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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My love sets her jaw upon her anger 

Sits with her back towards the High street 

Collagen asymmetry, botox rictus 

Her cheek a chiaroscuro of hunger 

 

I sit opposite, without an answer 

Observed by the pitiless eye of my espresso 

Until the afternoon is torn in two

By raucous farting from a steely sphincter 

 

A demon-fish, regal, mauls the bitumen 

But not the crystal blankness of its eye 

Nor the callous forgery of its heart 

Hold any more room for love than friction 

 

My love, an orchid of licentious hunger 

Swoons toward the sound of summer thunder 

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Your Voice is a Caress Most Definite

Posted in Love letters, poetry, sonnet with tags , on October 3, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle
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Your voice is a caress most definite

On velvet footfalls your words descend

The vertiginous staircase within my head

To take up mysterious residence

Modelling from the darkness a bower

Where meaning is resonant temperature

That blossoms across my eyelids into colour

A verdure of mysterious flowers

These flowers turn their faces narcotic

Toward the distant sun of where you are

With a febrile yearning in their motion

Reaching toward that place exotic

Whose voice describes a sunset-coloured shore

Whose windswept weave is salted with its ocean.

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Twisted Valentine

Posted in Love letters, poetry, sonnet with tags , , , , on February 14, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle
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Tattoos and piercings lodged in the weave of her becoming

A pale flame that undulates from my hips towards the ceiling

She feels like mine but is held within the darkness’ grip

Its heavy fingers printed in the slats between her ribs

I want to reach up inside and touch her deep as she can take

But the one who came before me is coiled there like a snake

Suddenly cruel, I insinuate the word ‘love’ into her ear

It is the single weapon I have that will cut into her

At the impact of my cruelty her groan shatters into a cry

And I see the truth congealed upon the mirror of her eye

Satisfied, I watch the tracking of a single salty tear

As it snakes along her cheek to hide in the hair below her ear

I apologize in a voice almost innocent of the lie

But if I couldn’t make her love me then at least I made her cry.

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