Tag Archives: crown of sonnets

Reign XV

It was always two minutes to midnight
In our world, this green valley turned metal.
The promises broke like glass, bright and sharp,
Each point of light another jagged edge.
Leopard print and sequins aren’t Tyrian,
But in your hands, they are greater than gold
(The shame was never in going naked,
Only in blindly insisting you weren’t.)
“No gods, no masters, every man a king.”
We preached our creed with every breath we took,
Every night spent beating back entropy.
The world was ending, but we were dancing.
With pen and ink, blood and bone, I proclaim
The coronation of King No Future.


Reign XIV

The coronation of King No Future
Came on like a bad hangover: sudden
As a star collapsing into sutured existence,
Painful as a cracked skull and a broken
Heart, and just as inevitable. This
Is our life now, homeless and indebted,
Marginalized and indignant. Well, piss
On the world that left us here, abetted
The theft of our later days. Tiny hands
Force crowns of thorns on us all, begin to
Salute. They laugh, those new Charles IIs,
But the only royalty is us. So
We live like exiles looking for a fight.
(It was always two minutes to midnight.)


Reign XIII

For Chris Cornell

With pen and ink, blood and bone, I proclaim:
“We’ve been living like études, short, fast, hard.
(Rock and roll, baby!) Sex, drugs, magic, fame:
We devour them, laugh and push things too far
(but never too too far, until we do,
Until life becomes stacatto and we
Trade microphones for shotgun barrels.) You
Made it past twenty-seven, thirty-three,
And we thought if you didn’t die strung out
On a cross, you’d live forever. But no
One does. We just get that one time around,
And if that doesn’t do it, what will? So.
Here I go, cataloging in sutures
The coronation of King No Future


Reign XII

The world was ending, but we were dancing
Our merry little jig, two fisting beers,
Smoking “don’t worry about it,” asking
Questions about LD50s and fear.
The day I traded my brain for a chip,
Nothing changed. I was born of Rage and Love
To begin with, was sick of the world’s shit
By seventeen, but not in the sense of
Eating a bullet. No, I was aggrieved.
I wanted only to dance and sing, suck down
Cherry vitriol and spit fire (believe
Me, I have enough hate to go around.)
I will not be silenced, will not be shamed.
With pen and ink, blood and bone, I proclaim.


Reign II

In our world (this green valley turned metal,)
We grew up as vault dwellers, told from birth
How SPECIAL we were, snowflakes and petals.
(But that was the vault, not the dry dead earth.)
How did we become doomsayers, preaching
The end of all things? Indigo children;
Products of forced evolution; reaching
Up towards the cosmos; holding communion
In some secret realm beyond human sight.
All these things we believed ourselves to be.
It was destiny that we’d shine, bring light
To a darkened world, set each other free.
It was promised, clear as notes from a harp.
The promises broke like glass, bright and sharp.


Reign I

It was always two minutes to midnight
In the land of the cowardly, those fools
Who had spent their lives giving in to fright,
Resigning themselves to living as tools
In the hands of selfish and simple men.
Their world was inconstant, shifting as soon
As they looked away. Their masters condemned
Them to a waking nightmare, lying, spoon-
Feeding them meals prepared from broken glass,
Fabricated from falsified figures,
Seasoned with warfare (global, racial, class,
Whatever worked, whatever would trigger
A search for the dark and not for petals
In our world, this green valley turned metal)


Corona XV

Today’s post, Corona XV, is on NewMyths.com. Go to NewMyths.com to read Corona XV.  Seriously. To see the final part of Corona, go to NewMyths.com. I cannot drill this into your head enough. Also, repetition helps search engine optimization. NewMyths.com. Corona XV.

So, as you may have guessed once the parts of Corona started appearing closer together, or if you went back and read them in numerical order, or if you read the tags on the posts (you do read the tags for clues as to what the hell I’m writing about, don’t you?) there was a larger structure at work here. I won’t go into it, though. I have no idea if anyone’s interested in a dissertation on poetry forms and authorial intent and so forth. If you are, leave a comment. I’ll illuminate everything for you.

Anyway, to reiterate, today’s post is on NewMyths.com, and it completes the Corona cycle. If you want to just read it, go directly there and poke around. (I also have an author bio and interview there! A link to that has been added to the “About” page for handy future reference.) If you’d rather read the poems in order, or just find them all in one place, please refer to the links below (now with semi-official individual titles!)

Now, this is way more than I usually rant. Perhaps you’re asking yourself how come. Well, the truth is that this poem is a milestone for me. It’s not the first time my writing’s ever been published, but it is the first time I’ve ever been paid for a publication. Which I suppose officially makes me a professional writer. Or maybe I was already a professional writer and this just provides concrete evidence to support that claim. Or maybe I’m just desperate for validation.

In any case, go to NewMyths.com and read Corona XV!

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