Tag Archives: flood

Sonnet of Pain

Confession time? When I wrote this, I kind of forgot how the structure of a Shakespearean sonnet was supposed to go. It’s ababcdcdefefgg, rather than abbacddceffegg- oops? I think I got it confused with the Petrarchan kind too, abbaabbacdecde. Messy, messy brain. Don’t even get me started on Spenserian sonnets. Jeez. 14 lines, 140 syllables, way too many ways to organize that nonsense.

Sonnet of Pain

Pain in my joints comes and goes like the tide
It swells and jabs at me, icy and burning
There is no relief with seasons changing
No calm sanctuary where I can hide.
A symphony of suffering for me
The rising and falling of storm-tossed waves
No blissful unconsciousness for me saves
From thundering blistering agony.
The crescendo builds, the water rises
Kettledrums in my bones and in my blood
I cannot keep my head above the flood
When all my joints are trapped in vises.
The symphony ends, the waters recede,
But pain never stops as soon as I need.

(C) Bridget Noonan, 2011, 2012.

The transition from autumn to winter was hard here. It went from mild to omg-wtf-it’sfreezing. This came out of that.



Filed under Poetry


Soooooo, I don’t know if you know this, but sometimes Canada has snow. I know it’s been ‘spring’ for like a month, but people here are still surprised that it snowed today.

Hate to break it to ya folks, but… look where we live! Seriously.
I have learned (the hard way) not to trust the nice spring weather until after the May 2-4 weekend. ¬†After that, we’re less likely to freeze our butts off at random. Annnnd once Labour Day hits? Snow can come any day! That is how this country works. It’s sad, but true.

Onto my reason for being: poetry. I found a cool picture, then wrote a poem to go along with it.


Three roads I see before my feet:
The left, the right, and straight ahead.
Which way to go, I do not know;
They fill me with such fear and dread.

The straight leads deeper in the woods,
Though I am now on my way home.
The left goes down toward the lake,
And I do not know how to swim.
The straight winds up beyond my sight;
My bones are weary of the road.

Where I shall go, I do not know.
They fill me with such fear and dread,
The paths I see before my feet:
The left, the right, and straight ahead.

I went the straight road in the past,
Though the steady plod had bored me.
The left path floods with every spring,
And it’s just the start of April.
The right has dangers of its own;
My mind flinches from the perils.

Three paths I see before my feet:
The left, the right and straight ahead.
Which way to go, I do not know;
My heart is full of fear and dread.

©¬†Bridget Noonan, 2011.

It doesn’t feel quite done. Then again, I’m not sure. Thoughts?

Actually, I kind of like it- except I get the lingering feeling that I’m ripping off Robert Frost in some way. But he had two paths, and both of his looked the same. Fuck that, three is a much better number.
Oh here’s the picture that inspired this whole shebang.


Filed under Poetry