More on sonnets

[LittleMinna]

I know I'm completely late on this topic, and you're probably all sick of it, but I dabbled a bit recently in sonnet neighborhood (got tired of iambic pentameter around line 9, but, still, it's in the vicinity.

The ‘Love’ Sonnet

I didn’t mean quite what you thought I meant
Or I misspoke, and what you heard was right
in context, ‘love’ could set a precedent
so let’s rewind, and take back the whole night

You’ve got that bunch of posies in your fist
and what you’re whistling sounds like Marvin Gaye
but I feel my intestines start to twist—
sweetheart, you’d better throw those things away

What if we see ourselves as friends?
What if the timing just is not quite right?
What if it isn’t you, it’s me?
What if I’ve got another date tonight?

--But I’m not finished. Don’t you walk away.
I love you back, is what I mean to say.

 

[flyguy69]

My immediate, visceral response? I like your free verse better!

But i couldn't write a sonnet if my if life depended on it, so I tip my hat.

I know I'm completely late on this topic, and you're probably all sick of it, but I dabbled a bit recently in sonnet neighborhood (got tired of iambic pentameter around line 9, but, still, it's in the vicinity.

The ‘Love’ Sonnet

I didn’t mean quite what you thought I meant
Or I misspoke, and what you heard was right
in context, ‘love’ could set a precedent
so let’s rewind, and take back the whole night

You’ve got that bunch of posies in your fist
and what you’re whistling sounds like Marvin Gaye
but I feel my intestines start to twist—
sweetheart, you’d better throw those things away

What if we see ourselves as friends?
What if the timing just is not quite right?
What if it isn’t you, it’s me?
What if I’ve got another date tonight?

--But I’m not finished. Don’t you walk away.
I love you back, is what I mean to say.

 

[LittleMinna]

yeah, form

My immediate, visceral response? I like your free verse better!

But i couldn't write a sonnet if my if life depended on it, so I tip my hat.

Nothing personal to those who like form, but to me, it will always be an exercise, makes my mind do funny things, and alters my language for "real" poems. Is that terrible? There's some beautiful formal poetry, obviously, but it's not my bag. in short--i agree.

 

[flyguy69]

Nothing personal to those who like form, but to me, it will always be an exercise, makes my mind do funny things, and alters my language for "real" poems. Is that terrible? There's some beautiful formal poetry, obviously, but it's not my bag. in short--i agree.

Well, your poetry makes my mind do funny things!

Ted Kooser wrote that poetic form should fit like the packaging of meat in a deli counter (something about "ham cubes," I think)-- that is, it should fit so well as to be unnoticable.

 

[ewopper]

I know I'm completely late on this topic, and you're probably all sick of it, but I dabbled a bit recently in sonnet neighborhood (got tired of iambic pentameter around line 9, but, still, it's in the vicinity.

The ‘Love’ Sonnet

I didn’t mean quite what you thought I meant
Or I misspoke, and what you heard was right
in context, ‘love’ could set a precedent
so let’s rewind, and take back the whole night

You’ve got that bunch of posies in your fist
and what you’re whistling sounds like Marvin Gaye
but I feel my intestines start to twist—
sweetheart, you’d better throw those things away

What if we see ourselves as friends?
What if the timing just is not quite right?
What if it isn’t you, it’s me?
What if I’ve got another date tonight?

--But I’m not finished. Don’t you walk away.
I love you back, is what I mean to say.

beautiful... I love the portrait you paint with your words

 

[Tathagata]

I know I'm completely late on this topic, and you're probably all sick of it, but I dabbled a bit recently in sonnet neighborhood (got tired of iambic pentameter around line 9, but, still, it's in the vicinity.

The ‘Love’ Sonnet

I didn’t mean quite what you thought I meant
Or I misspoke, and what you heard was right
in context, ‘love’ could set a precedent
so let’s rewind, and take back the whole night

You’ve got that bunch of posies in your fist
and what you’re whistling sounds like Marvin Gaye
but I feel my intestines start to twist—
sweetheart, you’d better throw those things away

What if we see ourselves as friends?
What if the timing just is not quite right?
What if it isn’t you, it’s me?
What if I’ve got another date tonight?

--But I’m not finished. Don’t you walk away.
I love you back, is what I mean to say.

form poetry is like math
some people can see the flow and beauty in math
others can do the math but it is a struggle
people like me hate math and end up staying after class clapping the erasers for drawing pornographic pictures with a protractor

i used to write songs with rhyme and meter and all that
and some were very clever
having to adjust to a form thats so specific has always made what i write sound forced and silly.

i still try in private

when you nail one, share it

 

[Stella_Omega]

See, that's what I like!
Shoving the modern discourse into the old form like that- It adds something, IMO. And however you feel about the results, it's still a good exercise.
I kind of feel like the biggest problem with much free verse is that the search for the right word is less critical. We can get so lazy...

That being said, I am at an utter standstill with my cycle project. Like, whatever muse possessed me to spew out two kinda decent sonnets in a row- only visits me every thirty years, or something!

 

[Angeline]

This is a sonnet:

In August
Babette Deutsch

Heat urges secret odors from the grass.
Blunting the edge of silence, crickets shrill.
Wings veer: inane needles of light, and pass.
Laced pools: the warm wood-shadows ebb and fill.
The wind is casual, loitering to crush
The sun upon his palate, and to draw
Pungence from pine, frank fragrances from brush,
Sucked up through thin grey boughs as through a straw.

Moss-green, fern-green and leaf and meadow-green
Are broken by the bare, bone-colored roads,
Less moved by stirring air than by unseen
Soft-footed ants and meditative toads.
Summer is passing, taking what she brings:
Green scents and sounds, and quick ephemeral wings.

and this is a sonnet

Sigh As It Ends
by John Berryman

__Sigh as it ends… I keep an eye on your
Amour with Scotch - too cher to consummate;
Faster your disappearing beer than late-
ly mine: your naked passion for the floor;
Your hollow leg; your hanker for one more
Dark as the Sundam Trench; how you dilate
Upon psychotics of this class, collate
Stages, and…how long since you, well, forbore.

Ah, but the high fire sings on to be fed
Whipping our darkness by the lifting sea
A while, O darling drinking like a clock.
The tide comes on: spare, Time, from what you spread
Her story. - tilting a frozen Daiquiri,
Blonde, barefoot, beautiful,
__flat on the bare floor riveted to Bach.

and this is a sonnet

Sonnet
Ted Berrigan

Dear Margie, Hello. It is 5:15 a.m.
dear berrigan. He died
Back to books. I read
It's 8:30 p.m. in New York and I've been running around all day
old come-all-ye's streel into the streets. Yes, it is now.
How Much Longer Shall I Be Able to Inhabit the Divine
and the day is bright gray turning green
feminine marvelous and tough
watching the sun come up over the Navy Yard
to write scotch-tape body in a notebook
had 17 and 1/2 miligrams
Dear Margie, Hello. It is 5:15 p.m.
fucked till 7 now she's late to work and I'm
18 so why are my hands shaking I should know better

The people who wrote them identified them as such.

These are a very few examples. There are many other variations of the form throughout history and across cultures. The sonnet can be adhered to in one of its traditions or it can be stretched or you can make something new of it.

Some people find forms like the sonnet freeing because, unlike free verse, you can play within the line and metric constrictions without worrying about where to make logical breaks. Some people don't worry about Elizabethan or Petrachan and recast the form as some of these writers I've shown have done.

And some people (the poet William Carlos Williams was one of them) say the form is outdated and doesn't fit modern culture. I think that's narrowminded. It's all about perspective and not being afraid to break from what's "popular" and "accepted."

I don't think many people here see writing in forms as experimentation, but I think anything can be possible with poetry.

 

[The_Fool]

Ange......hush.....

 

[Angeline]

Ange......hush.....

ok, as long as you admit you understand

 

[My Erotic Trail]

VilleSonnet: Grasshopper's song
by My Erotic Tale ©

(VilleSonnet, an idea sparked by The_Fool and Angeline (grasshopper))

Grasshopper's song

I sat and listened to the grasshopper,
not far from me I heard her chirping song.
It filled me with peace as if I belonged.
Her tranquil melody rang a heart throbber.
A light breeze blew across the meadow
but didn't drown out her poetic song.
I sat and listened to the grasshopper,
the sun rose higher as it got hotter
as water rippled in a still ponds pool.
Hearing the vibrant ringing out sound,
her tranquil melody rang a heart throbber.
Keeping me pinned to focus on reality
I meditated on her words and smiled.
Sitting in non-silence for just awhile.
I sat and listened to the grasshopper,
her tranquil melody rang a heart throbber.

(this of course is not a good example but an attempt)

 

[Angeline]

VilleSonnet: Grasshopper's song
by My Erotic Tale ©

(VilleSonnet, an idea sparked by The_Fool and Angeline (grasshopper))

Grasshopper's song

I sat and listened to the grasshopper,
not far from me I heard her chirping song.
It filled me with peace as if I belonged.
Her tranquil melody rang a heart throbber.
A light breeze blew across the meadow
but didn't drown out her poetic song.
I sat and listened to the grasshopper,
the sun rose higher as it got hotter
as water rippled in a still ponds pool.
Hearing the vibrant ringing out sound,
her tranquil melody rang a heart throbber.
Keeping me pinned to focus on reality
I meditated on her words and smiled.
Sitting in non-silence for just awhile.
I sat and listened to the grasshopper,
her tranquil melody rang a heart throbber.

(this of course is not a good example but an attempt)

You just keep writin' sweetheart.


http://www.rachellegarniez.com/images/grasshopper.gif