It’s the end of November, and with this post I’m filling my quota of 14 sonnets. I know that’s trivial compared with the 50 000 words that NaNoWriMoers manage, but I’m pleased with myself anyhow.
This one takes off from a comment the Art Student made as we were walking in beautiful autumn sunshine. The ‘she’ in what follows bears only incidental resemblance to any persons living or dead.
Sonnet 14: On gloom and doom
She sees blue sky and dreads the rain
it bodes. She hardly draws a breath
of pleasure without fearing pain
and nothing rhymes with ‘breath’ but ‘death’
or crystal meth which, failing guns
or cars or flame, will kill her sons.
And if she takes the wider view
there’s war and global warming, eu-
ro in trouble, AIDS, blind greed.
She knew that Rudd would disappoint,
thinks Abbott soon will run the joint
and make the very cosmos bleed.
But then, although she’s mostly right,
she won’t give up without a fight.
This was heading for some kind of variation on ‘seize the day’, but when I had 11 lines done, I read them to the Art Student, and she suggested the final couplet pretty much as it is here. How could I resist?
It may be no coincidence that as I type this the rain is bucketing down, and we’re sitting in a warm room watching the gum trees’ branches outside wave and bow in response.
Next year I might see if I can persuade some hardy souls to join me in this venture …
Me fail? I fly! 
Excellent effort, Jonathan, but must it stop at November? More, please (as soon as can summon the energy!)
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Thank you, Jonathan, for cheering and warming my November descent into winter. I loved the simple, quotidian subject matter, the heavy enjambement, the light tone, all of which disguised the artistry and made the poetry seem as natural as breath. Encore!
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Fabulous sonnet. As Paul Gilding puts it, global Disruption is necessary for global transformation. It’s going to be ugly. (Abbot is SO ugly!) I’m excitided by the thought that your solo vigil, in sonnet form, may become a collective voice? Collective voicing in many forms may be the way, if the Internet is not censored! Today we can sign the Avaaz petition against that: http://www.avaaz.org/en/save_the_internet/?cl=1425282703&v=11332
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Thanks all. I can’t tell whether this sonneteering is good discipline or pure indulgence, but I love the idea of it as a solo vigil and I’m tempted to institute a weekly feature — a Sunday Sonnet? Maybe after a little rest. I’m glad you noticed the enjambement, Will – heavy isn’t quite the word for some of it!
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Nice poem. Until your 10th line I was thinking, ‘such pessimism – not the way to be’. But I knew that Rudd would disappoint too – I was surprised how many people didn’t. And it seemed that that was the way to be less disappointed, calmer and happier when it came. Hmm…
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Zeta: Actually, I liked the way the poem went on its own sweet way from ridiculous anxiety to reasonable pessimism. I’m glad you saw that too. Thanks
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Golly. Might take you up on that for next year … am also considering doing ‘frocktober’, for which one wears a frock each day to raise money for cervical cancer research. Guess you’re not likely to join in that one (though I bet you’d raise a motza if you did).
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I’m up for next year. But you’ll have to remind me. 🙂
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McCardey: I’ll do so without fail, unless of course I forget
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