By Eric Meub
The raven’s more than hoarse by now, he’s dead
of boredom. Duncan’s come again, fifth time,
and I’ve put fresh sheets on the sofabed
for Mac and me, sleepwalking past our prime.
The test results said I’d have been sensational
as a manicurist—see how clean
I keep my fingers—or a motivational
speaker, but I’d rather be a queen.
I showed such promise then: I stirred each thought
to action. Now my indecision dooms
me to a part without a script; the plot
unfolds in other castles, other rooms.
Can’t wash a spot away in this slow flood
of inactivity. It stains like blood.
[More sonnets to come in the monthly column, "Second Saturday's Sonnet," beginning October 12.]
Copyright © 2013 by Eric Meub
Eric Meub, architect, lives and practices in Pasadena. He is the adopted brother of the artist. They respect, in their different ways, the line.
Good afternoon, Eric.
ReplyDeleteThe timing of your "sonnet" was perfect for me. I am making some major life changing decisions and do not want to become a relic of sort by indecisions. Reality has shown me that "test" cannot caputure the breadth and depth of a peron. I did not have a goal of obtaining a Ph.D. but this was the right decision for me. It took me almost 30 years to realize my potential. Keeping writing for others to enjoy!
Sincerely,
Saundra E. Carr
Very well penned and thought provoking. Good job!
ReplyDeleteQuite original! I enjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteMost interesting ! Keep up the great work !
ReplyDeleteGlad to see another poet on here! A lot to ponder here. Please contribute more poems to Moristotle & Co.
ReplyDelete