Sugary Prague


O Sugary Prague draped in its gentle snowfall –
Hides love but calls it out as well,
As the church spires still reach for heaven,
Finding dark chill, still echoing her defenestrations
and Kafka-gloom, but Sugary Prague finally falls,
And pillows our hardy feet, searching for love
amongst the cold stones & hot hearts & graffiti.
O Sugary Prague uneaten eats loneliness,
its Cosmic Clock ticking out civilization in the Square, where
sugary women split the darkness with bright green eyes
& find feasts & friends in the medieval town far freer than
the “world beacon” is; & where contented love looms
in this beauty’s future, her labors not lost,
her soul in sugar tossed.


0 responses to “Sugary Prague”

  1. After many readings I see it. A lovely casual sonnet,(fourteen lines,) very much in the manner of a Frank O’Hara city poem, and the atmosphere of winter covering all. Delightful closing. cheers, will

  2. Quite a compliment, William. Many thanks. Here’s the latest version of it, without so much of an OE pathos feel to it:

    Sugary Prague in orange light, draped in gentle snowfall hides love but calls it out as well,
    As the church spires still reach for heaven,
    Finding dark chill, still echoing her defenestrations
    and Kafka-gloom, but Sugary Prague finally falls,
    And pillows our hardy feet, searching for love
    amongst the cold stones & hot hearts & graffiti.
    Still, Sugary Prague uneaten, eats loneliness,
    its Cosmic Clock ticking out civilization in the Square, where Sugary women split the darkness with bright green eyes & find feasts & friends in the medieval town far freer than the “world beacon” is;
    & where contented love looms in this beauty’s future, her labors not lost,
    her soul in sugar tossed.

  3. well, i will try an analogy. you are taking something that flows. read it out loud with the original line breaks. then the revised version with its overly long lines breaking the flow. ah, the analogy: appearance & form matter. i personally don’t like very long lines, only the poet, mei-mei berssenbrugge really pulls it off for me. the original version: an ice sculpture as done in the scandanavian countries, and china. revised: soviet era apartment block of the fifties or sixties. but, it is not mine, and these are only top of the head opinions as i wait for dinner. i do enjoy the original and wish you well with further efforts. will

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