Sonnet 11

  • Lonely, Lonely, keeps me great company,
  • The solemn friend forever waiting there.
  • Anxious to hear my banked causality
  • For why sadness now is future's prepare.
  • "The logic is simple my dear skeptic,
  • Subside the pain and linger in its jeer.
  • All wounds are cured by mind's antiseptic,
  • The scars remain to numb the next shunt tear.
  • So what for the one true fated real love,
  • Those notions are so long winded and bought.
  • Go looking further for some off-white dove,
  • You'll see she's no match for the one you sought.
  • Abide the rules despite your brazen eyes,
  • Your lost love makes the next a pack of lies."

Notes

Was listening to some Feist while driving towards Del Mar in San Diego, and on comes "Lonely Lonely", which rang in my head for a bit since the title consists of two perfect iambs. So I kept those words in my head while I sank my sight away in the torrid calm ocean, then ventured back to Peet's Coffee (oh horror!) to do some writing and came out with this. I'm on a roll right now, two sonnets in two days.

This sonnet starts off somewhat disheartening, seemingly giving reason to mop around and depress. And speaking to some personification of "Lonely" doesn't help the situation. But this soliloquy of sorts is meant to convince Lonely to make amends with some great love that is no longer present instead of subsidizing the pain with hollow relationships. If the love is worthy of the pain, linger in the pain because that's the closest you'll get to that love. Everything else will be some sad derivative that will not satisfy.

— Huy on