Recently, I
came across some poems by Nicholas Leonard on TikTok and was immediately struck
by their honesty and depth. Nicholas is a writer from Massachusetts with whom I
have the pleasure of collaborating on YouTube by narrating his stories.
This post
is written to share his work here — not just to give it space, but to celebrate
it.
There is a
common denominator in the three poems, or better yet sonnets, I’m sharing — the reclamation of authentic humanity against
systemic dehumanization. Each poem exposes how institutions distort our innate
magic, connection and legacy. But crucially - all three end with a unifying call
to action, a redemptive defiance, a manifesto to live.
But those
are just my thoughts. See what you make of them.
Nicholas Leonard’s Note:
“I like writing short stories and novels, but there’s something about writing sonnets that feels magical. It gives me that feeling I’d used to get in church when I was a little child, the feeling where you feel something very light and gigantic, but you don’t know what it is yet. It’s like organ music exploding inside of me. But also, some sonnets can take a whole day or two to write. They’re not normal poems to me.”
In school,
they made the magic in you sick
because they wanted workers, not Mankind.
Depression,
tartar of the spirit sticks;
the magic
that is orphaned ossifies.
Medusa
pharmacies believe you can’t
reprieve
the fireflies inside the stone,
oh, but I,
a stranger, think you can.
The forests
in your lungs will be their hosts.
Stampede
and run until the tartar cracks.
Someday the
Earth will miss you, Sisyphus.
How sweet
it is to have a breath to catch
and lose,
for fireflies to reconstruct.
The magic
that they turned to stone anew.
You are
yourself. You have no homework due.
Our fingers’ stringless intricate design
was meant to twirl thy soulmate hair.
you scroll thru girls who can’t return the stare.
Is on a screen where all of beauty’s set?
Without our leaps, too wild grows the grass—
no one to hold you when your lust resets,
or roll you down the hill, to chase you back.
Thy eye is not for angel holograms.
Thy finger not for swiping endlessly.
Imagine not having to swipe again.
No winter thaws within a soulmate’s glance.
That blizzard lasts within forever, and
all models into dust dismember.
The tomb in Petra hasn't any door.
The terracotta columns seek no fee,
because the Leper King remitted
yours,
You bear unlocking lungs. Your
breath a key.
The water at the Taj Mahal awaits,
although it costs too much to travel
there.
Reflections that your feet were
meant to break
repose too still before the palace
stairs.
You'll break it like those landmarks
want you to,
From knights to Dr. Jones, it's now
your turn,
but don't go like the average
tourists do
but like someone whose soul's
endowed to learn.
So like the Leper King and Jones
you'll go.
Fulfill the inheritance of your
soul.
[All
three poems are written by Nicholas Leonard and are published here with their
permission. The author retains full copyright and all rights to these works.
Please do not reproduce without permission.]
Author Bio + Links
Nicholas
Leonard is a writer from Massachusetts, specializing in general fiction with
gothic and romantic elements. In addition to prose, Nicholas also writes poetry
and has penned more than 154 sonnets.