Showing posts with label sonnet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sonnet. Show all posts

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Special Poem for Holocaust Remembrance Day 2014


A sonnet dedicated to Irving Lipson and his family


Puddles of Wax
By Susan L. Lipson

A candle flickers in my heart for you;
I symbolize it with a wick just lit,
Commemorating millions also due
For honor as we rise from where we sit
To sing of lives snuffed out before their wicks
Had burned for all the years they should have glowed,
Before they were consumed in flames like sticks,
Or piled in pits and ditches by the road—
A road less traveled by the ones who’ve dug,
Unearthing truths embodied by their bones,
The ones who will not sweep under the rug
The evil echoing in ghostly moans.
The candle flames will end in puddles here,
While yours will burn and shine in every tear.


Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Irony in Frost's poems--inspired by anonymous comment on last post

I appreciated Anonymous's comment on my last post about the irony of Frost's poem, "The Road Not Taken." I LOVE Frost's poems and his tone. In fact, one of his poems, "Mending Wall," inspired one of my own ironic poems, a sonnet called "Neighborly Love," which has been published a few times, and will also appear in my new YA novel, now in submission. Thank you, Robert Frost, my muse!

Irony is one of the most effective tools for social commentary, and why is that? Emily Dickinson could answer that: "Too bright for our infirm delight, the Truth's superb surprise." So could Jack Nicholson's character in "A Few Good Men": "You can't handle the Truth!" Comedians make some of the most insightful political commentary via sarcastic jokes. The bottom line is "Success in Circuit lies" (Emily Dickinson again). Ironic humor takes the painful part of a Truth and mitigates it with a smirk, to make it palatable and indelible.

For my anonymous commentator I will now share my "Neighborly Love" poem below. And I think I'll start posting a series of ironic poetry over the next few posts--thanks for the inspiration, Anonymous!

Neighborly Love
by Susan L. Lipson

In ancient days, no doors were ever locked,
And silversmiths had not invented keys;
If Man had visitors, they never knocked,
For loving neighbors made him feel at ease.
And then one day, Man found his home was robbed;
Some thief had emptied all his walls and floors.
When neighbors heard, the silversmiths were mobbed;
The whole town asked for locks to bar their doors.
They left for church each Sunday with their keys,
To listen to the teachings of their Lord,
And "Love thy neighbor" had been one of these--
They'd seen it in their bibles, locked and stored.
Now when a neighbor visits Man he knocks,
For what makes loving neighbors but good locks?