A sonnet is a form of rails and bars

And not much like the gossamer spider’s web

A foursquare scaffold toward the circling stars

An angled answer to high tide and ebb

For Nature never tamely interweaves

In calm susurrus of alternative

But storms and swirls ‘till rampant Chaos grieves

The blows that she lacks time and task to give

While should the poet spend force, force to show

No blood is shed;—yet forcéd falls his lay,

His every effort effortless to go

Succeeding mere exertions to convey.

We cannot mimic Nature, do our all;

‘Tis artifice that is most natural.

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I pick up pen and, weeping, start to write

The ink is blood of wounds I must display

That seneschal, awake all through the night

Has patient watched my tears fall for this day

When tears will tell their tale and take their toll

Tell all, ‘till all their trial and toil be done

That soft report that echoes in the soul

Yet leaves me unconsoled, consoling none

For when I’ve squared the circle of my pain

I find myself no closer to the cure

By flowered words, truth is deflowered again

I’ve written, to be sure, or—be unsure?

Art is dishonored, used as heartache’s whore

And life dishonored too, by one line more

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We think that feeling must be where we start

Wise Aristotle’s first primeval Source

Of movement, moving mind and mouth and heart

So speak our feeling—wind up feeling worse!

What cart is this we’ve put before what horse?

Does passion lie? Or truth lie somewhere else?

Where does love run when love has run its course?

Has honesty, or poetry, played false?

Perhaps the fault lies neither in our stars

Nor in ourselves, but in this Fallacy—

That strong emotions, and emotions’ scars

Set us in motion; when the truth may be

That motion pulls emotion in its wake;

We move, and moving, love the step we take.

Mark Simos is Assistant Professor of Songwriting.

He notes of this work:  “This trio of sonnets, tossed off in a playful imitation of the style of the Metaphysical Poets, was inspired by discussions with students in various songwriting and lyric writing classes in the past few years. Though these may read as poems about poem-making, they concern questions that plague contemporary songwriters and musicians as well: Is structure inherently ‘cool’ and artificial? What is the role of our emotions as inspiration for our creative work? Does artistic authenticity depend on the depth of our feelings in the moment inspiration strikes? Can a work of art express thought as well as feeling, and still be affective and not didactic? The last sonnet alludes to the idea that “motion creates emotion”, a ‘meme’ I associate particularly with conversations with Pat Pattison. (I can’t say for sure who first came up with it—especially after a quick Google search showed it in use by cold call marketing trainers and aerobics instructors among others! But I’d like to acknowledge Pat and my fellow teachers in the Songwriting Department for many provocative discussions on these questions.)