Thorny, Growing Things

         Thorny, Growing Things

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

A sonnet wants to go somewhere, not just

Within itself.  It travels in its thought

And themes.  It wants a wider wanderlust

Perhaps of wish, volcanic spheres and not

The common love of valentines of pink

And heart-blood red as boring as a clown

Who isn’t funny.  Sonnets want:  a chink

In lyric walls, a dove that they shoot down

And not with Cupid’s arrows; launching far

Like light from distant planets we have not yet

Discovered, or collapse in death of star

So venomed that we fail to feel its threat.

  A poem wants an epic journey in

    Its space.  The goal is like a rose of sin.