“Sonnet I” by Danil Rudoy is a fourteen-line poem from Love Is Poetry. Desire, guilt and self-deception are compressed into a form that keeps returning to story, ending and the wish to understand its own direction.
Sonnet I
My dear Lord! I tried to numb the inner,
And yet amid the pains, divine and lewd,
Revolving and prepared to protrude,
There was a name that grew, becoming thinner.
Indemnity is not for such a sinner,
Not even respite, much less quietude:
A rascal, it aspires to elude
Before its humble servant’s served for dinner.
Of that I could compile another story,
Narrate it to the shadows of the past,
Or just pretend the sonnet is perfection…
Lies bring but solace, not an allegory;
I wouldn’t mind if this one were the last.
Someday I’ll know the depth of this direction.
2012/2013, October 2017
Publication
“Sonnet I” appears in Love Is Poetry: Rhyming Poems About Love Life, in The Heartless Muse.
Fourteen lines under pressure
The poem names its own form while questioning the comfort that form can provide. Story, allegory and perfection appear as possible shelters, yet the final line leaves the speaker inside an unresolved “direction.” Formal closure therefore intensifies the uncertainty it contains.
Text and citation
Copyright © Danil Rudoy. The poem is published here as the author’s canonical text. Short excerpts may be quoted for criticism, scholarship, teaching and literary discussion with attribution to Danil Rudoy and a link to this page. Full reproduction requires separate permission.