The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

Peanut Butter Sonnet

Accompanying music.

Soft caress against my swollen

tongue, so sticky, O so sweet,

smells like honeyed springtime pollen,

tastes like roasted coffee beans.

Friends with butter, bread, & jelly,

but best friends with creamy chocolate;

but just ‘lone it still fills bellies:

scrape a spoon & take a long lick.

In the time the pantry’s light,

how you filled those lonely nights

just before food stamps arrive.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Candy Constellation Sonnet

Accompanying music.

I know that you taste just like

lemon heads or gummy worms;

your bright stars with just 1 bite

blow up in raspberry bursts.

Drink up all your empty black,

drown myself in cherry cola;

don’t care if I rot with plaque—

my sole hope is super nova.

Then I’ve eaten all the stars;

now my universe is starved—

as ‘twas my eternal start.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Nondescript Bass Sonnet

Accompanying music.

You’ve been passing round my ears

since I was in kindergarten,

always growling soothing cheers

in your warblin’ Martian garblin’.

What’s the song you sing today?

Not the same as years ago,

though all share the calming waves,

many single-showing shows.

Who are you under those hoods?

On to work or buying goods?

Stay as shady as you should.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Tired Sonnet

Accompanying music.

Is it gray or is it blue?

Leaves between both black & green.

Sunny’s shift is ending soon.

Zephyrs scurry up my sleeve.

Feel a tingling in my chest.

Minutes pass without a thing.

Papers lying with the rest.

I just want to catch the seas.

Now I see some purple there.

Still I feel the still chill air.

Stare @ shades o’ midnight wares.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Route Sonnet

Accompanying music

Feeding thirsty leaves, the grapes

paint the concrete oily yellow;

& they keep unique pastel glow

e’en when wrinkled by dry age.

Get’n to business pecks the crow,

front & back, that beaky drummer;

no concern that e’en in summer

faded mountains still smell like snow.

But that sun was far too distance;

now there’s shade. The fact, though, is that

still these crows get down to business.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Seaweed Sonnet

Accompanying music.

I can taste the bloody iron

in your sticky spinach clinging

to the rocks, your simple sirens,

though its your leaves that are singing.

There is safety in remains,

memories o’ wine-sweet bliss;

ride on waves, on ships, on chains,

green all that is colorless.

Still you cling to my gray shoes;

though I love your ugly fruit,

progress says you get the boot.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Melted Ice Cream Sonnet

What a waste. Without a taste,

stretching out for help, but found

none in suns on yellow days,

frowning drowning pastel clown.

Nothing’s sweat in salty tears,

only smeared & only itchy

make up made up of those years—

dark, & yet they still bewitch me.

Dump you down my creaky drain,

please remind me of the rain—

Please! I promise to behave…

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Black Morn Sonnet

Accompanying music.

Blues wash boughs but black still keeps

in the kitchen ‘spite the lights

toasting coffee donut creams;

when bird portraits lost come ‘live,

when the slumber cinemas

play still, till they’re suddenly

breached by scents o’ cinnamon

& the neon digit 3.

Walk across the sweating grass,

through the chilly wind o’ glass—

soon skies take off beauty masks.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Ivy Sonnet

Accompanying music.

Though I wrench you off your tree,

‘least I get to feel your flesh…?

No, that’s not the way to treat

sauce that grows right off the stem.

Itch my nose with pepper smells,

spread your veins all over me.

I need sap mo’ than all elms

—I’m the 1 who’s looking green.

Rain just gives you free refreshments,

zephyrs make you dance so festive

—tastes will linger like a fresh mint.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry

Tea Glass Sonnet

Ripples in my glass o’ tea,

how I could forever gaze

& forget society,

live my perfect holidays,

breed my perfect memories,

just to laugh into my face

‘bout the myth eternity.

O, tart tea, give me a break.

I try gathering all your rings,

but they just slip down the sink,

followed soon by mo’ ear rings.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry