Page 3 of 50 Sonnets


  that slut deserves to rot in the belly of hell.

  It’s amazing how such revulsion festers inside

  I hope one day such hate will eventually subside.

  It breaks my heart to know she’ll never be mine

  the pain of love never achieved is almost as great

  as the experience of losing something so divine

  it feels like cupid’s an ignorant, uncaring cheapskate.

  I want her love so bad the thirst for it is killing me

  like a man yearning for water within a vast desert

  there’s no one else within this immense country

  who has her amazing intellect and striking beauty.

  I’d scale mountains, swim through raging rivers

  to feel her delicate hand caress my fevered brow

  just the sight of her gives every bone I have shivers

  as I take in as much attention that she will allow.

  It will never come true, this much everyone knows

  yet its a dream so sweet my mind cannot oppose.

  If only there was a way she could understand

  the way I feel about her deep inside my heart

  I long to walk beside her and hold her hand

  it’s a shame she has her own sweetheart.

  I could be good for her, a very supporting man

  it takes more than money to be there for someone

  for she has dreams, and there no one who can

  stand there by her side, help carry the burden.

  I love everything about her; that smile, those eyes

  I want to weave fingers through her delicate red hair

  it breaks my heart that we had to say our goodbyes

  and she will never really know how much I care.

  If you love someone, all you want is their happiness

  I’ll stay away, even if it drives me into madness

  Words must be spoken for the broken hearted

  there are far too many of us walking around

  suffering each time the radio plays a ballad

  each verse stings, as their meaning’s so profound.

  One day we’ll take stand, our voice will he heard

  society will one day learn to mind their manners

  because each time one of our hearts is murdered

  there isn’t enough wine, never too many benders.

  We try to drown our sorrows with rich liquid

  trying to wipe away even memory of our beloved

  the party is never too big, never too crowded

  as deep inside our soul, we feel cold and dead

  There is never enough to do to make us forget

  forever we’ll remember, our memories always rest.

  When there is nothing any of us can do

  we need to find the strength to carry on

  when in trouble, minds comes to the rescue

  with poems to be written, artwork drawn.

  From such tragedy, comes great works of art

  as our feelings and experience paint a picture

  an utterly vain attempt to deceive and outsmart

  yet we fail to find a truth, the missing answer.

  We act liberated but are in fact enslaved

  by the loss of love, the loss of our life

  longing for love but hearts remain starved

  fearing that we’ll never find a new wife.

  When things are falling apart, it feels like the end

  what we truly need is the ear of a caring friend.

  I learned the hard way you can never go home

  people, places and countries will always change

  nothing is the same once you choose to roam

  your perspectives alter when you’re out of range.

  Travel truly is the most eye opening experience

  meet new people, see new and amazing places

  you see mankind in all its tender brilliance

  realizing there is more earth than random spaces.

  Every continent has a new lesson to offer you

  through the people and their personal history

  each moment leaves a mark like an unseen tattoo

  observing the world in all it’s glorious beauty.

  When you travel around, see what is out there

  not a single other experience can ever compare.

  I stare at the empty page with a sense of doom

  unable to speak the words caged deep inside

  thinking of her, the memory a cloud of gloom

  it all makes me want to run away and hide.

  I stare at the door, hoping she’ll walk through

  eager to see her slender legs, her glowing smile

  I’ve wait so long to see her, if only she only knew

  that my heart aches to see her as it’s been a while.

  My heart drops as the meeting begins without her

  fearing I’ll never see her again, share her company

  the day is a little darker, my soul a little emptier

  the next ten weeks will be a little less fun for me.

  Making each week bearable, she has my appreciation

  what I looked forward to has become my new dungeon.

  I watch from a park bench as the children play

  free from the immense dangers that brew abroad

  going to school without passing through an x-ray

  protected from all those who attempt to defraud.

  Children have it easy and are oblivious to the truth

  of how much more dangerous this world really is

  never was my generation this sheltered in our youth

  parents today are fearful of very trip, every first kiss.

  While the world is a much more dangerous place

  parents are to blame for creating this atmosphere

  freaking out at all that invades our personal space

  it didn’t used to this way, people overcome with fear.

  While it’s true we protect our kids with good intentions

  we stop them from going out and learning life’s lessons.

  Every day I watch the news, my temper boils

  like a kettle that has finally reached it’s limit

  unhappy to watch politicians reap our spoils

  especially those unworthy babies in the senate.

  Money wasted on expenses that are not needed

  while families are looking for a way to afford food

  those bums in Ottawa have never been so crooked

  it’s hard not to believe that our nation is screwed.

  People continue to struggle, politicians are unaware

  that there’s a problem with the world’s economies

  jobs are lost, homes foreclosed, it’s a nightmare

  while congress lives large on parliamentary freebies.

  People will not stand for this, we will take action

  as their own indolence will result in their eviction.

  For stupid reasons I can’t even begin to think of

  stumbling through each date, every one a blunder

  I fight hard each day as I long to find my new love

  then I remind myself: settling is not the answer.

  I should be willing to hold out, be picky this time

  as I don’t want to repeat this complicated process

  I should hold out for the right one, someone sublime

  I know that she’s out there, my perfect princess.

  The key isn’t to find someone who is perfect

  for that is a quest that no man will ever conquer

  instead search for one who will be the right fit

  that will bring an end our reign as a bachelor.

  They keep telling me the right one is out there

  with six billion people, a discovery like that is rare.

  While it all seems hopeless, things can change

  whether for the better, I c
an’t make guarantees

  we all must organize if we want to rearrange

  how people think, change our nation’s priorities.

  If you think the politicians care, you’re deluded

  they were paid off the second they ran for office

  we’re about to loose what we all take for granted

  as cuts being made at every hospital and campus.

  If you want to keep it all, then stand up and fight

  we lose so much without as much as a whimper

  none of them don’t want our protests to see daylight

  we need to be heard, like a mighty clap of thunder.

  It’s time to get off your arse, stop watching reality TV

  make a stand for yourself if you want to remain free.

  Each morning when I wake, there is a new page

  ready to receive my words, my deepest thoughts

  this process will carry on as I continue to age

  as I piece together my life and connect the dots.

  Blank pages are a sincere invitation to the poet

  as they dare us all to conjure up a little magic

  to construct each rhyme, every stanza a gantlet

  every line a gift, one to be shared with the public.

  My work will inspire others long after I am gone

  each thought gliding towards the future like a bird

  I have no idea what inspiration they might spawn

  Will you feel enthused or will things be awkward?

  What one does with my work doesn’t really matter

  all I hope is that you all appreciate the gesture.

  Acknowledgments:

  Today I’d like to take a moment to thank some extraordinary people for being my greatest inspiration. Here they are in order of when they came into my life:

  Kirk Smith, Joe Bond, Kenneth Lamb, Martin Race, Alex Imre, David Mawson, David Greene, Don Nichol and Jay Meek.

  These men have two things in common:

  1. They were my teachers; my greatest mentors.

  2. They all told me I was capable of doing anything. Their confidence in my ability had no limits.

  Their compassion and guidance continues to inspire and motivate me as I never stop writing new poems and books.

  For their steadfast encouragement, these men have my most humble and sincerest gratitude.

  Thank you.

  PJ

 
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