Poem: The Question of Love, a Shakespearean Sonnet

Tis sweet defeat to love, says Lo
Answers Vick, thine sugar is rancid
Am I then dunce, asks I, or no
For defeat cannot be tasted.

Vick, he laughs, at I, and bends
Young knave, if defeat is thine candy,
Then retire thine tongue, or now, perpend
Thou death is thy life’s own fancy.

Lo, she fronts, thou fear the child
With thine zany words, I shrift
Love is unsure, unsafe, and wild
Yet without such Love, is one adrift.

The two undergo such testy balk
While I abhor their argued tenses
For Love is silent, and fools do talk
Neither doth Love to sit on fences

And still my mind doth will to capture
Such honest and absolute, thus rapture

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Author: Ikaika Torres

Shamanic practitioner, writer, filmmaker, friend

4 thoughts on “Poem: The Question of Love, a Shakespearean Sonnet”

  1. Surprisingly, of all the sites I’ve visited (I really like yours), I’ve never seen the following by Shakespeare from Julius Caesar:
    “And since you know you cannot see yourself so well
    as by reflection,
    I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself,
    That of yourself which you yet know not of.”

    My fave

    Like

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