NOTE: I made a new friend, Alex, who is a writer, and she wanted me to explore the idea of including more humor in my sonnets (I personally didn’t think I needed to explore “more humor,” as there didn’t seem to be any of that in the first place). She found them too depressing and didn’t want to see the reader turn away from the craftsmanship evident. I worked it out with this sonnet, and it was uncomfortable yet I found myself chuckling a bit. I don’t know if this sonnet is what my friend had in mind, but I certainly made a concerted effort to try. I guess, “it’s how I cope to hope” now can mean, “it’s how I craft to laugh. I am glad I am the type of artist who is willing to stretch new muscles in my creativity. I shudder to think if I was the type of artist who was too rigid and too unyielding to suggestions/feedback from fellow artists. I never want to be a “too set in my own ways” artist. I recognize that I need to shift and bend and move in many directions as an artist and, often enough, as a person, to find what works and what doesn’t.
“You got a great sense of humor,” they say.
You crack jokes like peanuts less the butter.
You laugh through life; you cry never the way.
You are needed to clear “the blues'” clutter.
I recall quotes from men: “Life is absurd!”
I have a good laugh over that ballad.
I’m still the last comic standing, jokes slurred.
They throw tomatoes; I make a salad.
Couldn’t find a verse for this kind of laugh.
No chapter no:number – Not God’s Copy.
We still gotta laugh through life on behalf
of God’s Comedy of Errors’ sloppy.
Just saw a man slip and stumble? Okay!
He was hurt bad but we laughed anyway.