#mini sonnet

[env0writes]

Juniper Journal’s Vol. 2, 6.26.24 “Corporate Rungs"

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Scaffolding, hand-holding to the tower Struggling to maintain grip on the power Mesmerizing flame dances in a majestic arc As sunlight cresting over sorrow’s dark

Outsiders ascending, defending their home Thorns nestle sparrows, cloudy and gloam Reach as you may for the highest of reaches Carried on high by the loftiest speeches

March on and carry the weight of each stone Building and building another man’s throne

[sparksofrose]

21st

the air smells like calamity and wine. she sits, weeping about a charcoal smudge, her eyes ablaze, she's trying to define the selfish art she often tried to judge. her fingers, shaking, ignite a bonfire. cigarette turns pensively aglow. you see her fervent mind is filled with shame; that wandering soul turned false so long ago. today, you hold her, through her vanity. lungs turn to ash and hearts become fool's gold, and you must help to keep humanity; protect wildflowers from persistent cold. with broken heart, she tried to medicate; in modern, tragic fashion, she found fate.

[sparksofrose]

pseudo-sonnet (calamity and wine)

the air smells like calamity and wine. she sits, weeping about a charcoal smudge, her eyes ablaze, she's trying to define the selfish art she often tried to judge. her fingers, shaking, ignite a bonfire. cigarette turns pensively aglow. you see her fervent mind is filled with shame; that wandering soul turned false so long ago. today, you hold her, through her vanity. lungs turn to ash and hearts become fool's gold, and you must help to keep humanity; protect wildflowers from persistent cold. with broken heart, she tried to medicate; in modern, tragic fashion, she found fate.

[theidentitytheif]

Mini Sonnet 2/11/12

What a tepid world we live in, so frail Living in this unforgiving iron Jungle of a city where babies wail, A world doesn’t exist outside of your own Three concentric circles all in a line, Standing apart, their hearts beating in time.

[chromaticillusions]

Where our film does join, tis exquisiteness

Where the winds caress, is skin of goose-flesh

The restraint of our touch does not create stress,

Ardor and calm in harmonious mesh.