Dishwasher sonnet

Following up on First bloom! Pumpkin sonnets, here is my "dishwasher sonnet" written in 2008 when I was in Tim O'Keefe's Intro to Creative Writing at the University of Utah. I believe we got more poetry instruction in Tim's version of the class than in most. I came away from the class with a healthy sense of how little I knew about poetry. Over the years, I've had further conversations with Tim, and my general sense is I still know precious little about poetry. However, the impulse to write and think in the way of poetry continues for me, and my sense of what's possible grows over time.

One assignment was to write a sonnet. We had freedom in terms of the form: rhyming or not rhyming. I believe we were encouraged to keep to fourteen lines and to use iambic pentameter. I wrote an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG "traditional" rhymed sonnet in "I grow a pumpkin aching back to you". My second sonnet uses an invented scheme. It's also precise, but I recall there was only one class member out of about twenty who actually spotted it.

So, readers of Chapter This: what's the organizing scheme? Make your guesses in comments here on the blog or over on facebook.

Because I couldn't leave it alone, I revised the poem slightly today. Here are both versions. (Hint: the scheme did not change.)

Endless Cycles (for Barbara) (2008)

Done for now—I can do no more.

Reach and grasp and stack and stow the same

Milkwhite stonegrey implements—enough.

Fan from the dishes any wet pools and place

Solitary the ones that drip or spill.

Labyrinthine task at last complete—

Time of emptiness scarcely seems to find

Dominion—a Ferris wheel poised

        at highest height

Tilts and topples, its yawning void for all

Languishing glassware, bowls, encrusted stacks

Soldierlike returning in order stiff

Fast inhabiting briefest empty room

Miringly filling ’til fullness ends the chore.
Re-poured soap, closed door, pressed knob I stand…

                                 * * *

Endless Cycles (for Barbara) (2014)

Done for now—I can do no more:

Reach and grasp and stack and stow the same

Milky whites and stainy stainless—enough!

Fan the wetness pooled in grooves and place

Solitary whatever drips to dry.

Labyrinthine task at last complete;

Time of emptiness scarcely seems to hold

Dominion—a Ferris wheel poised

        at highest height

Tilts and topples. The void invites return.

Languishing glassware, bowls, encrusted stacks

Soldierlike returning in order stiff

Fast inhabiting briefest empty room

Miringly filling ’til fullness ends the chore.
Re-poured soap, closed door, pressed knob I stand…