Ordinarily I don’t publish so much poetry at Theoria-press, and instead try to provide mostly essays with an odd poem or sonnet occasionally interspersed among them.
I’ve heard that Brahms composed a fugue when he woke up each morning, stretching his compositional muscles, crafting it with care, then crumpled the paper and tossed it in the fireplace. How we wish that more of Brahms’s output survived for us to enjoy today!
Max, I’m grateful for your discipline, composing a sonnet a day. You’ve inspired me to write more sonnets in recent months. Often I see in this certain indefinite number more than one flash of imagery, of word art, of mystical insight, and I wish that you would take the time to smooth the awkward places.
I don’t know that this is an improvement, but it’s me infusing my personal style into your work. Please take this as a tribute, not a “correction”.
A THOUSAND things that I would like to say —
I’d tell you ancient secrets, if I knew
them; but alas, my memory holds but few.
Their whispers carry truth from far away.
Arcane, faint metaphors can but convey
an echo of their power, a cryptic clue
that I cannot decode. But maybe you
will bear your candle to this dark one day.
Your ship will wreck, your heart will dash on stone,
Dear Josh, thank you for your kind words and your encouragement and most of all for you reworking of the sonnet. Believe me, I am honored by it and not in the least bit offended.
I’ve heard that Brahms composed a fugue when he woke up each morning, stretching his compositional muscles, crafting it with care, then crumpled the paper and tossed it in the fireplace. How we wish that more of Brahms’s output survived for us to enjoy today!
Max, I’m grateful for your discipline, composing a sonnet a day. You’ve inspired me to write more sonnets in recent months. Often I see in this certain indefinite number more than one flash of imagery, of word art, of mystical insight, and I wish that you would take the time to smooth the awkward places.
I don’t know that this is an improvement, but it’s me infusing my personal style into your work. Please take this as a tribute, not a “correction”.
A THOUSAND things that I would like to say —
I’d tell you ancient secrets, if I knew
them; but alas, my memory holds but few.
Their whispers carry truth from far away.
Arcane, faint metaphors can but convey
an echo of their power, a cryptic clue
that I cannot decode. But maybe you
will bear your candle to this dark one day.
Your ship will wreck, your heart will dash on stone,
your pride will persevere, so that alone
you spill your blood in fertile streams of care,
and every claim to vanity forswear.
Then our Creator’s thoughts will be your own
for you, and for all humankind to share.
Dear Josh, thank you for your kind words and your encouragement and most of all for you reworking of the sonnet. Believe me, I am honored by it and not in the least bit offended.