The World Of Sense

And now there’s nothing here for us to see
And now there’s not a thing for us to see
The world has vanished by a grand decree

The plaintive dirges are not heard at all
The sound of sighing is not heard at all
No barking dogs, no bird’s melodic call

We won’t try any bitter tastes, or sweet
We’ll never sample bitter tastes, or sweet
We’ll never thirst, or hunger after meat

Can’t feel the shining sun upon our face
Can’t feel the falling rain upon our face
The touch of pain, replaced by joy and grace

The world of sense has passed, and we’re unburned
The realm of knowledge is, and we’ve returned


This poem is in the form of a Blues Sonnet (see The Book of Forms, by Lewis Putnam Turco). This form has the following rhyme scheme: AAa BBb CCc DDd ee. The capital letters represent refrains that can vary a little. The form contains 14 lines: 4 blues stanzas in iambic pentameter, and a final heroic couplet.