Biography of Sonny Rainshine
Education: MA English; BA French.
Profession: Software trainer for health care organization.
Hobbies: Avid reader and movie buff. Light hiking and long walks in the woods.
Most of the 19th century Romantics, William Carlos Williams, and a host of others.
Poetic philosophy: I look for both interesting form and content in the poetry I read and that I compose. They do go hand-in-hand. If one has something to say, it's necessary to say it well.
Sonny Rainshine's Works:
I have a few poems published in University literary magazines, a couple online, and have won a contest or two. I'd like to become good enough to publish in prestigious poetry journals, but appear to be too lazy to do the necessary work. Please consider commenting on my poems here on this site; even if you don't care for them, a little constructive crticism helps us all grow as poets.
Sonny Rainshine Poems
A Leaf Refuses To Fall
The leaves don’t let go that easily either. It takes a bluster, a filabuster of north wind, and the wasp-sting of the first
He stayed up half the night collecting one hundred fireflies in a mason jar. Just before midnight he unscrewed the lid and released them inside the screen porch.
1 Is Easy
One sex, one race, one religion, one face. One thought, one nation, one dream, one altercation—
Apology For Poetry
Some say that people who like poetry live in a rarefied world populated with pretty words
In what she referred to as Reverse Art, she decided to re-create Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” in an arrangement of real blooms
After The Rain
One Chinese lantern, forgotten when the lawn party was spoiled by a summer downpour, waves in the drizzly wind
An Oak's Progress
An acorn drops, piercing the leafy humus. Heavy rain in the night entrenches it
21st Century Rant
Growth! Progress! Expansion! Then downsize it all when it gets too bloated, and if that doesn’t work, lower the borrowing rates
Haiku: Hail Storm
Pearls from a necklace
Every wrinkle, marking her skin, burnt parchment, every ache in her body, every Great Depresssion,
She reached for grapes and grasped a cluster of words, which she crushed in her fingers to make a concoction of nouns
Every day we fish. We cast our lures and our flies into the rippling reservoir of life and wish for a nibble.
3 Seconds Before The Shot
The brown doe for a moment mesmerizes the boys in camouflage, broadcasting a telepathic message: I stand before you here,
Haiku: Sweet Breakfast
Aroma of fresh ground coffee and apple pie:
Finding What We Lost
Where do you keep your joy?
Did you install it
in a strongbox or tuck it
in your wallet?
Have you given all your zest away—
Get it back!
It’s not something to sell
or to toss in a sack.
You say the travails of life
have snatched it away.
Relocate it. Take it back;
redeem it today.