Cut Out My Shadow; Cut Out My Shadow Revisited — Two sonnets paired

Cut Out My Shadow; Cut Out My Shadow Revisited — Two sonnets paired

“Cut out my shadow.”

~ Lorca, “Song of the Barren Orange Tree” (“Canción del Naranjo seco”)

Some readers want each sonnet to omit

The truth.  They want a shadowless report

On life.  They do not see that we commit

A crime, one tantamount to worst abort

Command for launching deepest probes of space

To verify disturbing facts we guess

Around us and inside us.  Only grace

And beauty are allowed.  The answer “Yes!”

Is what these ones require.  No roses with

Their thorns are right.  A bush not evergreen

Is banished.  Pollyannas hold this myth

That poetry is always sweet, not mean.

  The greatest poet ever disagrees.

    In Hamlet he weaves slaughter, sin and sleaze.

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”

~Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5)

Cut Out My Shadow Revisited

 

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

~ Philippians 4:8

 

Cut out my shadow so that I can paste

It in again, again.  It needs to be

Set on . . . repeat, repeat.  If I am chaste

As whitest ice, as far as eye can see,

We need a better telescope.  James Webb

Ain’t good enough.  Saint Paul suggests a list

Of what we should consider.  Flow, not ebb,

It seems is fine.  Our lives do not consist

Of mild vanilla only.    Cyanide

Exists.  A convent tries to stop the blight.

A nun prepares to be the Savior’s bride.

Yet even nuns are dressed in black and white.

  We’re all required to take in every view.

    Yes, we are told to think about what’s true.

Phillip Whidden

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