💾 Archived View for d.moonfire.us › blog › 2019 › 04 › 04 › poem captured on 2022-06-11 at 21:05:43. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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On the fourth day of National Poetry Month, I write a little poem with my least favorite pattern: rhyming. I suspect I know why I struggle with rhyming, I don't sub-vocalize when I read. In other words, I don't sound out names or places as I got but “parse” them as symbols. If you ever talk to me, you'll hear it because I mispronounce a lot of words, even ones I don't know.
It also means I have a remarkably difficult time starting to talk. Though, as coworkers will tell you, once I get going, I don't shut up. It's like one of those big engines winding up.
When I'm surprise or not ready, I don't always respond with words. Sign language? That comes faster and that gets used instead of speaking. I fumbled my wedding vows partially for the same reason because I forgot how to speak (and I was thinking about a scene from Hackers when I was supposed to be listening).
Regardless, this was one of my first sonnets in a long time.
Sand Bites Hard Now
No matter what I see across the sand, From dunes to rocks to cloudless sky above me, The bright sun burns my vision like a brand And reminds me that I'm a refugee. My blameless guilt gnaws as a thousand bites. Blood on hands and a shadow overhead. I didn't think there would be constant lights. I would rather be somewhere else instead. This new life is going to be so damned hard. I didn't have time to make this poor choice. And now my life is nothing but a shard. I'm going to scream until I lose my voice. I don't have a choice anymore, do I now? Not if I don't want to break my new vow.
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