I pretended not to hate you last night,
knees pressed into your pelvis like stone fists,
your cold, clever lips there against my wrist
with promises you would make things alright
once the morning at last brought home some light
and you could show me why we must persist,
how without you, I would barely exist,
and why it was pointless for me to fight.
But I kept count of those lies and those kisses.
every feathered touch up, along my ire,
and each time I should have taken your tongue
when your arrogance stocked up this fire
and told me I did not have strength to rise
when you were the one crawling all along.
Bjorn is hosting the first Poetry Form night of at the DVerse Poets Pub and he’s picked an old fling to throw up as the first challenge. While I played with sonnets years ago, I went off them in the same way I went off most fixed form poetry. However, anyone who’s been around this blog for the last few days will know that I’m trying to dip my toe back into that particular poetry pool so I was going to give this a fair shot.
One hour later I have what I hope is a presentable sonnet that goes against the assumption that sonnets are all about love. I wanted to give this old form a modern, feminist twist.
It deserves a little shaking up after all that twisting the rhyme scheme had me doing.
If you fancy joining in the form fun then click the badge above to check out Bjorn’s post and also to find the rest of the brave poets taking on sonnets for the evening.
Best of luck and I hope you enjoy.