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Another Species
Each time you felt some shame you could confess
The sins you had committed, but instead
You whispered a revision, something less
In someone’s ear in yet another bed.
That is to say, you were quite off your head,
And took it out on everyone you knew.
Your failings never flagged; your heart seemed dead
As each sly dance of courtship went askew.
Tangled and driven, thoughtless, always you
Would promise all, returning nothing much
But pain. Still, there were those quite eager to
Receive this bounty, once your fickle touch
Had been desired. Fat, balding… only then
Too late you wept for things that might have been.
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Janus
She took him for someone she had mistaken
For one she had not met as yet, and so
Horizons tilted, and the ground was shaken,
But her demeanor stayed reserved and slow.
He still pursued, and played the game of nudging,
Exchanging furtive phrases, secret sighs,
With double meanings in each phrase; some fudging,
And limpid looks that promised sweet surprise.
At last, when she confessed she waxed romantic
And was afraid such feelings might be real,
He closed the spigot, cut off every antic,
Began to do the opposite with zeal.
Confused, she felt distraught and cheated, dim,
As a dark, different face emerged from him.
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Morning Star
This was our holiday—two hours or less
In borrowed bathing suits. We screamed in fun.
My mother’s suit was shiny blue, I guess;
She swam there, breast-stroked, dived—when she was done
She tracked up sand and called us, one by one;
Remarked upon the weather, and our size,
What we would eat. We saw the setting sun
And one small star: a clouded, bright surprise.
Coffee, a cigarette, perhaps a tune,
The scent of perfumed grass. Blue shadows drew
Her like a little doe beneath the moon.
She planned for us; and willed it to come true,
And wished her fawns a blessing on the road—
The wishing star looked down, and faintly glowed.
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Sally Cook is both a poet and a painter of magical realism. Her poems have also appeared in Blue Unicorn, First Things, Chronicles, The Formalist Portal, Light Quarterly, National Review, Pennsylvania Review, TRINACRIA, and other electronic and print journals. A six-time nominee for a Pushcart award, in 2007 Cook was featured poet in The Raintown Review. She has received several awards from the World Order of Narrative and Formalist Poets, and her Best American Poetry Challenge-winning poem “As the Underworld Turns” was published in Pool.
Sally, with great admiration I read your adeptly written sensitive sonnets in perfect meter and rhyme. 1.) “Another Species” is an inspired title for the way one can feel when hospitalized and feeling shorn of self-respect. At least that is my own interpretation of what may have happened. 2.) “Janus” perfectly describes the two-faced flirtation of one which, when finally reciprocated, turns to dust. I really felt this one deep in my heart. 3.) “Morning Star” is like a memory of happier, playful childhood days on the beach with such a wonderful ending: “She planned for us; and willed it to come true,
And wished her fawns a blessing on the road—
The wishing star looked down, and faintly glowed.”
Those are precious words that make life worthwhile and stick in our memory.
Sally Cook’s poetry is almost always deeply personal, but written with a cool detachment of tone. These three sonnets — all Shakespearean, but different in their page layout — show her great skill in wordcraft.
My reading of the first two is that they describe selfish or unsatisfactory lovers. The first is a liar and a manipulator; the second a two-faced teaser who seems to be aiming at romance, but who immediately rebuffs any response from the speaker. How deeply wounding it must be for a woman to be the subject of advances that make her feel attractive, but who then is rejected by the man when she softens her demeanor and responds positively!
The third sonnet is about a family outing at the beach — a mother and her children. The key is “the star” — the narrative makes it clear it comes out in the evening, but the title calls it the “morning” star. “She” in line 12 refers not to the star, but to the mother, who has planned and willed good things for her “fawns” (children) in the future to come. There is a deliberate conflation of the small evening star that appears, and the loving mother who will care for her family.
Sally Cook will not be able to reply to any comments on her poems. She is still in Rehabilitation. But she is a loyal fan of the SCP, and has asked me to give a general Thank You to all who post any comments on her poetry.
“Another Species” is such an incisive portrait of this person; and I love the interlocking rhyme scheme from section to section of the sonnet. “Janus” and “Morning Star” are also well-painted portraits. “Janus” leaves the reader with much empathy for one and anger toward the other. “As a dark, different face emerged from him” is a strong, conclusive ending.
Dear Sally, what a treat to read three admirably written and heartfelt sonnets that plumb the depths of human relationships and the deceit, confusion, pain, and genuine care that comes with them. I have always admired how you paint tangible scenes with words and “Morning Star” is a perfect example of this. It appeals to the senses and stirs the heart. I am particularly taken with the apt titles of the first two and how effectively they frame the words – words that remind me how dangerous the charming can be. Sally, thank you!
Just love “Morning Star” but the other two are excellent too. Regret and heartbreak, such familiarities. Love the little “doe” and its offspring.