Entrapment

A veil of brambles eclipses the sun
My frantic clawing dies in crimson hands
The moon is strangled as cold Night commands.
On charred embers of Hope I blindly run

A claustrophobic haze: the day is done
The water has abandoned parching sands
The withering glory of these tortured lands
In crumbing crystal memories is woven

Can stern resolve then forge a battering ram
When golden fields of goals are set ablaze?
Now stagnant are the brooks where Beauty swam

Yet glides a Swan whom mires did not faze
A drop of sanity in rank bedlam
In search of wings for transcending this maze

Reviews

[Devons]

I really admire the rhyme and scan of this poem, as well as the quality of its translucent imagery and language. It occurs to me when reading such work, that when the real engineering of poetry is set in motion the smoothness of its running when executed well is the heart of its work in making it a success. Serious, well calculated poetry achieves the attention of the reader and thus acquires the bulk of their comprehension and willingness to see what is really being said.
This poem certainly achieves that.

[Gerald Parker]

I do not wish to detract from the fine sentiments expressed in this well constructed sonnet. I see you are fond of 19th century English poets. The problem is that much of their poetry would be tossed aside by modern publishers. It was acceptable in those days to distort logical word in order to get the rhyme to fit. Moreover, the need to find the rhyme often dictated the next line. ( Wordsworth: 'The rainbow comes and goes/And lovely is the rose.' ) Also, there are a number of places in this poem where appropriate punctuation needs to be inserted.

[Penlady]

your words strangle hope until the swan is seen gliding. Then it is regained in the possibility of the wings lifting in flight!
Dark song sung here. Your poetry makes one FEEL.

[eleanorclaire]

This is beautiful -
Your fear and anxiety is palpable, it's expressed so well - the only thing I would suggest would be to have more concrete imagery.

Beautiful.

[asdarkeyesclose]

This interests me as i have written a lot of sonnets. The first line eclipses - you'd never have stress on the e maybe something like 'a veil of brambles hides the falling sun' don't like 'the moon is strangled' - would put a comma after commands- the full stop is too heavy at that point for the delicate texture of the sonnet. Like line 7 a lot and line 11. Over all i found it a bit too dark for my taste would like to see your lyrical ability talking about something you loved :)

[James W Wilson Jr]

Beautiful!

[Derek S.Keck]

This is really Really interesting piece! I keep rolling that first stanza over and over again in my mind. With your lines "A veil of brambles eclipses the sun/My frantic clawing dies in crimson hands/The moon is strangled as cold Night commands." What all of this imagery creates, in my mind, is the personal suffering of the speaker distance him/her from the real world, from nature, maybe even happiness; any state that would feel naturally opposed to depression, suffering, loss, etc. It sort of made me recall that one line from Bob Dylan's song One Too Many Mornings, where he says states: "An the silent night will shatter/From the sounds inside my mind". The second line of the first stanza reiterates these sentiments by saying essentially that I'm giving in to it (to this black feeling) against my will, I can't control it. The second stanza creates this desolate state of existence, the eyes from which our speaker sees. Eyes that have little hope in the world around them, that emphasize the emptiness in living in bitterness and memories of better times. The third stanza really brings to the forefront that the darkness (what I keep dubbing as darkness) could dissipate, that hope exists, for of something beautiful has once existed (happiness) it could exist again. The forth stanza, to me, partially represents a snapback to reality and also a revelation on life, grace, and patience; the rock standing against the wind. I love this piece. Your one of the finest poets I’ve ever met. You craft your work so delicately and carefully. This review doesn’t do your poem justice; this piece was crafted with love, patience, and careful meditation.

[Judy Ponceby]

Wow! Awesome vivid imagery. Beautifully written.