365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)

You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: :)

Sunday, August 24, 2008


The words of men are webs. The sticks of men are words.
Obstructing blue the sky, they branch from trees,
enlaced in branches there, obstructing what I see.
I hear their rustling calls, like twitting of the birds,
and yet, they seem as bears, as trunks from where they spring.
Obstructing me, I cannot see, I cannot breathe –
and darkness of their interweaving swallows earth.

But can they swallow me? They come from tiny seeds,
an acorn maybe, sometimes from ambitious weeds.

And so, can webs of trees – envelop me in dark?
They try, a canopy above my upward head,
but burn in lightning’s blaze, turn green with envy’s bark
and sicken, die like toads, from webs die overfed.


  1. Mike- I stumbled upon your blog via visiting the one-minute writer. Your work is fantastic! I'm an English teacher in Montana and hope to show some of your work to my Sophomores and Juniors.

  2. Hi Miss H,

    Thank you so much for visiting! I'm very pleased you like my work. Feel free to share my sonnets and spread the word! :)

    Have a great weekend!


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!