Poetry competition CLOSED 24th May 2011 1:33am
WINNER
Astyanax (Ceejay)
Astyanax (Ceejay)
RUNNER-UP:
rayheinrich
Sonnets
[quote]nothing_more said:
Just a question.... I thought the way shakespeare made sonnets was 10 sylables each line with a patter like: ababcdcdefefgg so like every other line rhymes like:
bed-a
rhym-b
head-a
time-b
wine-c
chip-d
dine-c
dip-d
line-e
scratch-f
fine-e
catch-f
look-g
book-g
And I thought it could be about anything? I don't know thats just the way I was taught... is there multiple ways?
dip
There are a few other kinds of sonnet besides Shakespearean (English), but all of them have 14 lines with regular meter and a set rhyme scheme. You're right, they can be about anything, not just love -- sonnet means "little song", so the idea is that they're lyrical and love is the most obvious way to fit the bill for most people. "Free verse sonnet" is pretty much a contradiction in terms -- it's not that hard to learn the little discipline required to fit the structure.
*Edit -- of course, in terms of this competition, obviously whoever runs it can set whatever rules he pleases.
Just a question.... I thought the way shakespeare made sonnets was 10 sylables each line with a patter like: ababcdcdefefgg so like every other line rhymes like:
bed-a
rhym-b
head-a
time-b
wine-c
chip-d
dine-c
dip-d
line-e
scratch-f
fine-e
catch-f
look-g
book-g
And I thought it could be about anything? I don't know thats just the way I was taught... is there multiple ways?
dip
There are a few other kinds of sonnet besides Shakespearean (English), but all of them have 14 lines with regular meter and a set rhyme scheme. You're right, they can be about anything, not just love -- sonnet means "little song", so the idea is that they're lyrical and love is the most obvious way to fit the bill for most people. "Free verse sonnet" is pretty much a contradiction in terms -- it's not that hard to learn the little discipline required to fit the structure.
*Edit -- of course, in terms of this competition, obviously whoever runs it can set whatever rules he pleases.
Anonymous
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[quote]nothing_more said:
Just a question.... I thought the way shakespeare made sonnets was 10 sylables each line with a patter like: ababcdcdefefgg so like every other line rhymes like:
bed-a
rhym-b
head-a
time-b
wine-c
chip-d
dine-c
dip-d
line-e
scratch-f
fine-e
catch-f
look-g
book-g
And I thought it could be about anything? I don't know thats just the way I was taught... is there multiple ways?
you should write a sonnet on sado masochism..umm..maybe take some inspiration from Happiness in Slavery.
Just a question.... I thought the way shakespeare made sonnets was 10 sylables each line with a patter like: ababcdcdefefgg so like every other line rhymes like:
bed-a
rhym-b
head-a
time-b
wine-c
chip-d
dine-c
dip-d
line-e
scratch-f
fine-e
catch-f
look-g
book-g
And I thought it could be about anything? I don't know thats just the way I was taught... is there multiple ways?
you should write a sonnet on sado masochism..umm..maybe take some inspiration from Happiness in Slavery.
[font=Courier New][size=2]
< #42 >
Oh you, the woman that first noticed me;
And me, still looking at my handsome man.
We were, we were, two of us hand to hand;
Just you, just me, but in the mirror we.
"I'm scared to look in mirrors now", you said;
You said while reaching out the window, while,
While reaching out the window: "We have bled".
"My love" I said, but soon our words weren't we.
Oh how these years in mirrors stand with you;
They only come with me to watch you leave,
Reflect our mangled cloth, our tangled weave,
To hear the question you still ask of me:
"This blood, this blood, how can there be so much?"
Just you, just me, through broken glass we touch.
- - -
< #42 >
Oh you, the woman that first noticed me;
And me, still looking at my handsome man.
We were, we were, two of us hand to hand;
Just you, just me, but in the mirror we.
"I'm scared to look in mirrors now", you said;
You said while reaching out the window, while,
While reaching out the window: "We have bled".
"My love" I said, but soon our words weren't we.
Oh how these years in mirrors stand with you;
They only come with me to watch you leave,
Reflect our mangled cloth, our tangled weave,
To hear the question you still ask of me:
"This blood, this blood, how can there be so much?"
Just you, just me, through broken glass we touch.
- - -
[quote]Allusionary Anomaly said:
[font=Courier New][size=2]
< #42 >
Oh you, the woman that first noticed me;
And me, still looking at my handsome man.
We were, we were both of us hand to hand;
Just you, just me, but in the mirror we.
"I'm scared to look in mirrors now", you said;
You said while reaching out the window, while,
While reaching out the window: "We have bled".
"My love" I said, but soon our words weren't we.
Oh how these years in mirrors stand with you;
They only come with me to watch you leave.
To watch you walk along our handsome road;
To hear the question you still ask of me:
"This blood, this blood, how can there be so much?"
Just you, just me, through broken glass we touch.
- - -
the repetitions(kind of refrain i guess) at times have a nice lyrical effect. This is quite the sonnet I love to read. Thank you
[font=Courier New][size=2]
< #42 >
Oh you, the woman that first noticed me;
And me, still looking at my handsome man.
We were, we were both of us hand to hand;
Just you, just me, but in the mirror we.
"I'm scared to look in mirrors now", you said;
You said while reaching out the window, while,
While reaching out the window: "We have bled".
"My love" I said, but soon our words weren't we.
Oh how these years in mirrors stand with you;
They only come with me to watch you leave.
To watch you walk along our handsome road;
To hear the question you still ask of me:
"This blood, this blood, how can there be so much?"
Just you, just me, through broken glass we touch.
- - -
the repetitions(kind of refrain i guess) at times have a nice lyrical effect. This is quite the sonnet I love to read. Thank you
Not sure whether this is actually a sonnet because its metre and rhyme scheme don't conform to the classic patterns of the Shakespearean/Petrarchan sonnet. But what the hell, it's got 14 lines so I'll submit it (apologies for repeating something from my poems list):
Mind the Gap
How do we fill in the gap between being born and dying?
With sleeping and talking and thinking and walking and shopping and driving and flying;
With meeting friends, making amends, trying to put things right,
Wishing we’d done things differently in the middle of the night.
Some of us kill, some of us swill, some of us cheat on our wives,
Some of us nurture our children, some of us ruin their lives.
Some fill the gap with boredom, lumbering from bed to settee,
Wasting life’s precious allotment gorging on daytime TV;
Others are obsessively active, never a moment to spare -
Running committees and holding collections and badgering those who don’t care.
Some of us squander, some of us ponder, most of us bumble along,
Going to work, paying the bills, hoping it won’t all go wrong.
And what did it bring us, we wonder, as decline turns into fall:
Surprise, awareness, knowledge, fun…and love, ah yes, love, most of all.
Mind the Gap
How do we fill in the gap between being born and dying?
With sleeping and talking and thinking and walking and shopping and driving and flying;
With meeting friends, making amends, trying to put things right,
Wishing we’d done things differently in the middle of the night.
Some of us kill, some of us swill, some of us cheat on our wives,
Some of us nurture our children, some of us ruin their lives.
Some fill the gap with boredom, lumbering from bed to settee,
Wasting life’s precious allotment gorging on daytime TV;
Others are obsessively active, never a moment to spare -
Running committees and holding collections and badgering those who don’t care.
Some of us squander, some of us ponder, most of us bumble along,
Going to work, paying the bills, hoping it won’t all go wrong.
And what did it bring us, we wonder, as decline turns into fall:
Surprise, awareness, knowledge, fun…and love, ah yes, love, most of all.
Sorrow (done in the archaic style and syntax)
Weeping, weeping; as awoke from slumber
knew I, your form, and felt it with the dawn
silhouetted dreams, I could not cumber
lay crowd to onslaught; visions beauty borne
vague and wondrous; conceptuality
danced and dallied, carried upon a stream
woven by Morpheus; you were comely
as I beheld your beauty in that dream
oh so sensuous, how you flowed in grace
I knew you as an ardent nymph, you gave
yourself and led my soul to sacred place
such passion made you mine alone till grave
know you my love, delivered me from hell
though loud I wept upon the morning's bell
Weeping, weeping; as awoke from slumber
knew I, your form, and felt it with the dawn
silhouetted dreams, I could not cumber
lay crowd to onslaught; visions beauty borne
vague and wondrous; conceptuality
danced and dallied, carried upon a stream
woven by Morpheus; you were comely
as I beheld your beauty in that dream
oh so sensuous, how you flowed in grace
I knew you as an ardent nymph, you gave
yourself and led my soul to sacred place
such passion made you mine alone till grave
know you my love, delivered me from hell
though loud I wept upon the morning's bell
Anonymous
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