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Beatitudes · Poetry Short Short ·
Organised by Anon Y Mous
Word limit 100–2000
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Sonnet for a Prodigal Son
The Lord's ends are written upon the sphere
of Heaven, in stardust and holy flame.
Would that I could read them, and know His aim,
to follow straight unto my dying year.

But Heaven is far, and the earth is near
And 'tis earthly passions the earth inflames.
Let me indulge them without slightest shame,
and repent at last when I reach the bier.

Far better men than I have tried, and failed,
to live a life full free of any sin.
The effort being all to no avail,
I see no reason that I should begin.
I'll ask, when at the pearly gates I stand,
Good Lord, was this not also as You planned?
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#1 ·
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This poem conveys an atheistic type of cynicism and lands straight between the eyes. Technically, the original Son knew his father's commandments (who is a stand-in for 'the Lord'); this is the weakness in this speaker's argument. In that sense, the tone errs toward something which might have been thought of by the humanistic Erasmus of Rotterdam.

The rhyme and rhythm are not strict, but the weight of the poem leans very much on its message and not its metricity.
#2 ·
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You've got the right syllable counts, but it's harder to tell since it doesn't maintain a meter. I hope you weren't trying for a meter, because if so, it's forced in beyond recognition. Rhymes are a bit loose in places.

This reminds me a bit of the old Simpsons episode where Bart joins up with a revival preacher, who tries to get Bart to behave, and Bart says he can always just do that right before he dies. The preacher thoughtfully says the deathbed confession is a pretty good angle.

I like the earnestness here. There's a nice plaintive quality.