What is the nature of reality?
As my friend drives us to another town
for ‘TheTrust Fall’ movie that we missed here,
the pollen-heavy miles inflame my eyes.
In a strange, surreal state, I watch the screen
with a hand covering each eye in turn
(to cut glare, soothe pain) as we all observe
a far less transient torture, long-term,
likely to be fatal. It’s clear the man
is not villain but hero. How can we
save him? It needs all of us to keep on!
Home, I manage to smash a favourite
glass. Upset, I forget Assange – once more
blanking out that we live in the unreal.
The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write an American sonnet, i.e. more loosely structured than the strict sonnet form. (But I chose to keep 10-syllable lines, though not in iambic pentameter.)
The Poem A Day prompt was to remix one of our old poems, so I turned Day 3's surreal prose-poem into a sonnet.
I like this, Rosemary. Getting out of the unreal takes courage.
ReplyDeleteMine too has meter, tetrameter. "I" still call it an American sonnet as it lacks rhyme. Most of mine don't anymore.
..
I'm glad you like it, Jim, and also glad you understand it. My earlier version received responses focusing more on my sore eyes (which bizarre happening was quite true) and expressing happiness that things had ended well. But of course things have not yet ended well for Julian Assange, my real subject.
Delete