Archive for sonnet

Jocko Willink and David Goggins versus Leo Tolstoy, Ernest Hemingway and Hayden Carruth

Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory, Real Men with tags , , , , , , , , on July 10, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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There are some novels you read that make you think, ‘Why can’t all books be like this one?’ Continue reading

Shades of Lust and Hate, and Fear, and Love, and Grief

Posted in poetry, sonnet with tags on June 8, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

 

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I woke beneath a wringing sheet last night

To phantom figures cast on midnight screens

They rose in opalescent sheets of light

Their trains were wet with rot from loathsome dreams

 

Morbid lights crept over the planes of flesh

That spun across those shifting, spectral screens

Sharp white incisors rhymed with stark white eyes

As invective rose like bile behind my teeth

 

Hopes and promises turned to screams and cries

Violence sticky with the shame beneath  

Powerless I lay to efface those shades

Of lust and hate, and fear, and love, and grief

 

Sunrise finds me bound with the shameful tie

That I can neither break nor can deny.

(I think) She Might Be Crying

Posted in poetry, sonnet with tags , on April 28, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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The floor to ceiling hotel window is

A lidless, depthless, staring midnight eye

The bed’s reflection breaks along its gaze

Sheets rolling in a long, disordered line

 

Face down, the weave of hair conceals her face

As tattered heart’s words tumble to the carpet

I am complicit: dumb, and blunt and hard

Plumbing a womb of shit and barren darkness

 

Later: scrutinised by bathroom light

Sitting naked with my head in hands

Marooned in a field of arid, empty white

Revealed to be the object that I am

 

Next door: drooling, drunk and stoned and slurring

Maybe, words (I think) she might be crying

Choke (2)

Posted in poetry, sonnet, violence against women with tags , , , on February 2, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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The sting in my hand from where I’ve struck her

The welt that’s swiftly rising on her thigh

The mark glaring through its suntanned lustre

The bolt of pain that taints her almond eye

 

The sweat that gathers in her dusky creases

The body that’s knotted like a rope

The sigh that’s strangled and abruptly ceases

The chin slick with saliva as she chokes

 

Blinking eyes that swim with sweat that’s searing

Relentless, I drive past lips, teeth and tongue

Her eyes bulge, mascara-smeared and teary

I feel the edge of teeth before I come

 

Gagging, she spits and tears a breath of air

Spent, sated and slaked, I can hardly care.

Choke (1)

Posted in poetry, sonnet, violence against women with tags , , , on January 23, 2020 by Jarrod Boyle

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The sting in my hand from where I’ve struck her 

The welt that’s swiftly rising on her thigh 

The mark that’s glaring through its suntanned lustre 

The bolt of pain that taints her almond eye 

 

The sweat that gathers in dusky creases of 

The body that’s knotted like a rope 

The sigh that’s strangled and abruptly ceases 

The chin slick with saliva as she chokes 

 

Supine, the curtains of her belly part 

And she’s inhaling sharply through her nose 

Relentless, I drive up towards her heart 

While turning like a dragon’s embryo 

 

She gasps, and groans, ‘I feel you everywhere’

So I take hold and pull her silky hair. 

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 Continue reading

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 Continue reading

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