Same Title Challenge - Spring

[wildsweetone]

Here's a new Same Title Challenge.

Poem Title: Spring


Form: a sonnet


Submitted by or on date: 1st March 2006


Sonnet how to:

SONNET
The sonnet. It is one of the best-known and best-loved forms of poetry in the Western world. Lax enough to permit freedom of expression but restrictive enough to be challenging, long enough to allow detail but short enough to force concision, sonnets have endured for centuries and are still written today.

A sonnet is a poem with fourteen lines and a strict rhyme scheme, written in iambic pentameter (ten syllables per line, stress pattern of unstressed, stressed). There are many types of sonnets, each with its own rhyme scheme, but whichever rhyme scheme is chosen, it must be carefully followed. For example, the Shakespearean sonnet rhymes abab cdcd efef gg.

There is also the Italian sonnet (also known as the Petrarchan sonnet, after its creator), which can rhyme abbaabba cdecde or abbaabba cdcdcd, among other variations. The Spencerian sonnet rhymes abab bcbc cdcd ee. There are others as well, but the exact rhyming pattern chosen is less important than the overall effect of the sonnet on its reader. Also important to note is that many sonnets contain a turning point at the end of the eighth line, dividing the poem into an octet (the first eight lines) and a sestet (the last six).

Choosing a single sonnet to show as an example was no easy task. Shakespeare's Sonnet XVIII and Sonnet LV are well-known and excellent, as is Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Ozymandias" - the latter is my personal favorite poem of all time, sonnet or otherwise. In the end, though, I decided on Edna St. Vincent Millay's incredible "Love is Not All." Note how the poem shifts direction at the conclusion of the eighth line.

Love is not all: It is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain,
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
and rise and sink and rise and sink again.
Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
pinned down by need and moaning for release
or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It may well be. I do not think I would.

Have fun!

 

[normal jean]

sonnets

I dont love em, and I cant DO em... pout

 

[wildsweetone]

I dont love em, and I cant DO em... pout

well that makes two of us. wanna learn with me?

 

[BooMerengue]

I'm in if you delete the very last sentence in your post. I want to use another definition of the word spring, ok?

Definitions of spring on the Web:

the season of growth; "the emerging buds were a sure sign of spring"; "he will hold office until the spring of next year"
a natural flow of ground water
jump: move forward by leaps and bounds; "The horse bounded across the meadow"; "The child leapt across the puddle"; "Can you jump over the fence?"
form: develop into a distinctive entity; "our plans began to take shape"
a metal elastic device that returns to its shape or position when pushed or pulled or pressed; "the spring was broken"
leap: a light, self-propelled movement upwards or forwards
bounce: spring back; spring away from an impact; "The rubber ball bounced"; "These particles do not resile but they unite after they collide"
give: the elasticity of something that can be stretched and returns to its original length
develop suddenly; "The tire sprang a leak"
a point at which water issues forth
produce or disclose suddenly or unexpectedly; "He sprang these news on me just as I was leaving"

'nuff said??

 

[wildsweetone]

it was very guiding of me wasn't it. okay i'll delete it.

 

[normal jean]

well that makes two of us. wanna learn with me?

Oh, I better explain, I get so stuck. I understand iambic pentameter, I can write like that, I get messed up at the idea of having to pose a
problem/question part of the thing and having to resolve it at the end and in so few lines.It gets all twisted in my head and I have really truly tried to do them, they sincerely frustrate me. And that frustrates me even more.

Im thinking my problem is that I am a pseudoperfectionist and I am afraid of failure and looking silly to myself, but I dont really care what I think...most of the time anyway... oh ive lost my mind just thinking about the form part. I am a rebel, anti form, anti matter, anti panties and all... okay, sorry

I will try.

 

[wildsweetone]

Oh, I better explain, I get so stuck. I understand iambic pentameter, I can write like that, I get messed up at the idea of having to pose a
problem/question part of the thing and having to resolve it at the end and in so few lines.It gets all twisted in my head and I have really truly tried to do them, they sincerely frustrate me. And that frustrates me even more.

Im thinking my problem is that I am a pseudoperfectionist and I am afraid of failure and looking silly to myself, but I dont really care what I think...most of the time anyway... oh ive lost my mind just thinking about the form part. I am a rebel, anti form, anti matter, anti panties and all... okay, sorry

I will try.

i don't see any reason why we can't post our attempts on here and see if someone will enlighten us along the way. *smile* who knows, maybe if it's just you and i that struggle we might be able to point out the problems in each other's poem.

i'm glad you're going to try. 'cepting that means i have to now too. *rolling eyes* wretched dickey birds.

 

[BooMerengue]

Oh, I better explain, I get so stuck. I understand iambic pentameter, I can write like that, I get messed up at the idea of having to pose a
problem/question part of the thing and having to resolve it at the end and in so few lines.It gets all twisted in my head and I have really truly tried to do them, they sincerely frustrate me. And that frustrates me even more.

Im thinking my problem is that I am a pseudoperfectionist and I am afraid of failure and looking silly to myself, but I dont really care what I think...most of the time anyway... oh ive lost my mind just thinking about the form part. I am a rebel, anti form, anti matter, anti panties and all... okay, sorry

I will try.

You don't have to do that! I don't. Is that what you do w/ a sonnet? I never knew that. Or maybe you're misintrepeting? Ask Ange or Lauren. If that were the case I doubt I ever would have tried it.

And you 2 girls stop quibbling. You CAN do this! sheeesh

 

[normal jean]

You don't have to do that! I don't. Is that what you do w/ a sonnet? I never knew that. Or maybe you're misintrepeting? Ask Ange or Lauren. If that were the case I doubt I ever would have tried it.

And you 2 girls stop quibbling. You CAN do this! sheeesh

Oh BOo, we arent really quibbling. And Ange has tried to help me before, I just dont get it. My brain is messed up there. And yeah, it has always been my understanding that the first two lines are a ponderance of sorts. LIke, dare I compare thee to a summers day? I m sure Will said that in something he wrote...so he gets the "") followed by why he can or cant and then he does and its all good at the end. LIke I said, Iw ill try. If anything deserves a sonnet, it is Spring. myabe thats what I will write about

love you, Boo.

 

[champagne1982]

Kids rush out to spring in unfastened coats
to play in gutters filled with sky's tears.
Newsprint cutters racing popsicle stick boats
for Tenth Avenue's Cup. Past Ninth Street weirs
and Main Street wharf, the fleet jauntily floats
down to the storm grate on Beach and Sixteen,
their captains harrying the crew digging moats
through the ruts, to divert disaster and win clean,
Tenth Avenue's Cup means nothing at all
to land lubbing moms and tutting granmas
but to springtime sailors and faithful dogs
who rush out to answer the season's call
begging sailing input from old granpa
as spring turns roadways into yacht club bogs.

 

[BooMerengue]

Its beautiful, but it's meter needs a twitch, Champ! C'monnn! You can do it!

 

[wildsweetone]

my brain is in reverse at writing a sonnet. i hope you're all nearly there with yours.

Maria, where art thou? how's it going?

 

[champagne1982]

Its beautiful, but it's meter needs a twitch, Champ! C'monnn! You can do it!

If insomnia offers nothing, at least I got to do some meter tweaking.

Spring (The Tenth Avenue Cup)

They rush out to spring in unfastened coats
to play in the melt with laughter and cheers.
Newsprint sails racing popsicle stick boats
for Tenth Avenue's Cup. Past chip bag weirs
and coffee cup wharfs, the fleet jauntily floats
down to the storm grate on Beach and Bradshaw.
Their first mates harrying their crews to dig moats
through the ruts carved into the muddy thaw.
Tenth Avenue's Cup means nothing at all
to land lubber moms and fussing grandmas
but the world to children and faithful dogs
who rush out to answer the season's call,
and beg sailing technique from Cap'n Grandpa
as springtime turns roads into yacht club bogs.

 

[wildsweetone]

as it's the 1st March for me already, here's mine. i still need to work on the iambic pentametre part and this is where i get stuck.

Spring - The Cherry Tree

Facing the sky in sweet profusion, pink
satellites swallow the sun in union,
fallen petals kicked by feet on the brink
of running for fitness too long undone.

Petals scatter as the cool breeze abounds
and a leaf tic, tic, tic, zigzags the deck
to stop with a jolt as it hits the ground
is crushed underfoot when a duck takes a peck.

Watched by the husk of a praying mantis
caught in a spider’s web on the deck edge
the duck waddles ‘round, and it’s not ‘til ‘tis
time that he takes off and skulks through the hedge.

The weeping cherry once bright with pink bloom
now has bare branches that cradle the moon.

 

[Angeline]

Persephone's lost in the soulless halls
of the damned, where she an unwilling bride
lays cloistered. Now the earth turns, darkness falls
deep within dogged jaws as Hades’ ride
blacks the sun from her breast. Demeter wept
tears of ice, scattered grain now blown to dust
in exile. Winter childless swept
the trees bare, made of the loam spitless crust.
The arid seeds of this rape have engraved
emptiness on brittle branches of faith:
All the world froze, season's mistress enslaved.
Who would believe the greening more than wraith?
Persephone's found in the crocus wing
tip of season anew, daughter of spring.​

 

[BooMerengue]

A Part Of The Midwife's Song

I scried her in the spring under the rain;
the cloudy background destined in her eyes,
but she was there and all her future pain
splashed over her and numbered all her days.

Unwanted, though I saw her soul was strong
I spread the bony knees to make more room.
More room? I laughed, if I decided wrong
this child would never see her seventh moon.

A wail, a scream, an agony of birth,
she cried then settled in her Mama's arms,
and Papa said that she would not be worth
the trouble that it'd take to keep her warm.

But I knew from the caul pulled off her face
that she would be the one to take my place.​

.

 

[wildsweetone]

Champ, Ange and Boo, I bow to your incredible ability to fit words into this form. Your poetry sonnets slip off the tongue. Awesome.

 

[BooMerengue]

Champ, Ange and Boo, I bow to your incredible ability to fit words into this form. Your poetry sonnets slip off the tongue. Awesome.

Thank you, Sweet One, but mine doesn't compare to Ange's or Champs. I have spotted several errors in mine, but I waited til 2 this am to start it.

I had an idea for you. Find some Sonnets who's IP is perfect. Shakespeare comes to mind, though there are a slew of others. Before you write another word, read some of these aloud. I think that will show you the 'swing and lilt' as I call it of the form. Read them over and over, til you start speaking IP! It will happen! Inundate yourself; you'll be glad you did.

You're the best! Thanks for challenging me- I've been running dry too long.

ummm... whats next?

 

[champagne1982]

Thank you, Sweet One, but mine doesn't compare to Ange's or Champs. I have spotted several errors in mine, but I waited til 2 this am to start it.

I had an idea for you. Find some Sonnets who's IP is perfect. Shakespeare comes to mind, though there are a slew of others. Before you write another word, read some of these aloud. I think that will show you the 'swing and lilt' as I call it of the form. Read them over and over, til you start speaking IP! It will happen! Inundate yourself; you'll be glad you did.

You're the best! Thanks for challenging me- I've been running dry too long.

ummm... whats next?

No false modesty here allowed. I enjoyed your offering as I did WSO's and Ange's too. ... As for what's next for you Boo lady, I think Midwife's part 2 would be good.

Thank you for a great challenge WSO.

 

[BooMerengue]

A Part Of The Midwife's Song

I scried her in the spring under the rain; this is unclear.
the cloudy background destined in her eyes,
but she was there and all her future pain
splashed over her and numbered all her days.

Unwanted, though I saw her soul was strong
I spread the bony knees to make more room. up to this point I was speaking of the unborn, then Bam! 1 line about the mother?
More room? I laughed, if I decided wrong
this child would never see her seventh moon.

A wail, a scream, an agony of birth,
she cried then settled in her Mama's arms,
and Papa said that she would not be worth
the trouble that it'd take to keep her warm.

But I knew from the caul pulled off her face
that she would be the one to take my place.​

.

this is but a few of the things I did badly.

Thank you Champ! We'll see.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Snap-Dragon; Part I

SnapDragon's bloom in a Geisha garden
Koi color a pool under a wooden bridge
Plush grass yeilds The Emporer, guarded
as SnapDragon kissed his lust's stiff ridge

Long slender fingers pull for his delight
milking his needs with a fan spread wide
Komono fallen and bare breasts in sight
wet fluids flow as her hand gently slides

She kissed his love and licked his muscle
tending to the job of releasing his tension
his final gasp of orgasmic pleasure tussels
Snap-Dragon smiles as the Emporer mention

In his delight and departure, tossing her yen
Snap-Dragon, a flower in the Geisha garden.