[Brian Allgar]

Try as I might, and despite the ingenious readings of others, I cannot even begin to see this as any kind of religious allegory. Perhaps I'm too literal-minded, but I take it at face value as a rather nasty little story told quite effectively, if sometimes elliptically.

There a couple of phrases that baffle me:

xxYou’ll never need to wonder why I [...] made you show your age

I've no idea what "I made you show your age" means.

Similarly, I don't understand

xxto feel the long arm of a grown man’s relief.

How can relief have, or be, a long arm?

I'm also confused by "It was distressing how you coughed, until you stopped", which suggests to me that the victim was strangled to death, followed by "Don’t bleed so fast, Dear", which implies that the victim is still living but bleeding to death.

Overall, though, a convincingly disturbing piece. I shall be interested to find out whether that was the poet's intention, or whether there's more to it than meets my simple-minded eye.

[Kate Benedict]

Brian mentions the phrases that baffled me as well. If this is God talking, he's inarticulate. If Catharine's interpretation is correct, then addressing the Christ as “Son” would help a lot. But maybe the poem is about Etan Patz or something like that. The first line might not be punctuated correctly. The intention might be "Christ! I see you're finished, lying here." In other words, "Damn! you're lying here, dead."

Maybe, but I don't know. I’m having a hard time following the thread of what actually happened. Am I really too dumb to follow the thread
of an English language sonnet? I like risky, even pervy, poems that dare to probe the dark side but, to my mind, the poem isn’t specific enough.

There’s a world of possibility here but this reads like a first draft to me.

[Charlie Southerland]

I've been hard-pressed to figure this one out. I suppose the title was the lead-in but it didn't. I think it is intentionally creepy and poking fun. I see some elements of Quincy Lehr's writing in this one, but confess I don't know. I admit to being too dense to really get it. It is a strange mix of Petrarchan and Shakespearean. Nothing wrong with that though.

[Antonia Kelly]

Originally Posted by Top Secret DG

Valediction Against Mourning


Christ, I see you’re finished lying here.
You tried everything to get me off
and go. It was distressing how you coughed,
until you stopped. Sweet, I’ll leave you somewhere
safe, I swear. Nearby. You’ll never need
to wonder why I brought you to my stale
crib, made you show your age until your nails
tore ragged hours down my chest. Don’t bleed
so fast, Dear. I’ve been your chaperone,
a steady hand to waltz you through some songs
of stuff that conquers all and makes us one.
I’m touched, grateful that you’ve come along
– just to feel the long arm of a grown
man’s relief. I’d never do you wrong.

I thought the 'long arm' reference something to do with the law and the way the law can be interpreted in order to justify, in this case, an illegal act. The attraction of this sonnet, for me, is the fact that it can be read multiple ways. For several reasons I was put in mind of Philip Larkin's 'Deceptions' but obviously from a different viewpoint. A hard poem to forget!

[ross hamilton hill]

This is a religious poem, Catherine you have opened my eyes, it is about Christ.
I must stop speeding on coffee.

[Martin Rocek]

I join the "too creepy" vote. Nothing that I would like to read more than once. I like my gratuitous violence light: https://youtu.be/kjPhFSlhOuQ

More seriously, notice that Tom Lehrer's song develops as it goes along. This poem meanders and I don't really see a turn.

[Jennifer Gordon]

Janice preempting an outcry against that almost too pointedly blasphemous beginning, I wish we could leave "father" Donne out of the equation, but Harvard lately proving you could take religious meditations with impossibly Biblical overtones and make them sexual effusions and experiences, I suppose it is inevitable and cleverly, albeit blasphemously executed.

The long "i" sound as the first word unhappily draws the reader from iambic to something more trochaic, and I cannot think the sonnet flows but choppily, albeit laden, and L9 seems to be missing a beat, yet probably will rest its success on the first and something less than iambic.

After that, I'm too poorly acquainted with the particular strain of christianity which justifies this supposed beauty, whence I shall rest at being ill-qualified to debate its finer points. Suffice it, apparently it is is impossibly religious and somebody must be credited with cleverness, though I beg to differ. Kick me for a poor critique.

[Maryann Corbett]

Count me among the creeped out. Add that the notion of identifying God the Father with a rapist/murderer is pretty off-putting. That's the risk of making a strong statement in poetry: the reaction might well be strongly negative.

[Manny Blacksher]

"Let Magdiel rejoice with Ascarides, which is the life of the bowels -- the worm hath a part in our frame."

Christopher Smart _Jubilate Agno_

[Ann Drysdale]

"Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue."

(Francis Thompson - The Hound of Heaven.)

Manny, I am sorry I didn't comment on your sonnet. I couldn't get your drift and I'm still floundering. I hope you will respond to some of the comments here to help me see the way in, and I hope you post more poems in the forums.

Pleased to meet you!