One Four Square Sonnet - Parody Shakespeare Sonnet CXVI
ONE FOUR SQUARE SONNET
Let's not into true marriage of two minds
Admit expedience. Love wears no kid glove
Which falters where fits, altercations, finds
Or ends when dumb observer would remove.
For lo! that marks stark feckless leaver, hark!
Tempest cooks cat's books, stands sturdy shaken,
Here, wild oats sown, dog-star to wandering bark,
Its birth unknown although its bow save bacon.
Since Love fools Time, lip-service cheeky rhyme
Within big spending tickle’s compass come,
O'er years piques havoc wreak, strange phantom mime,
Remaining edgy till wan wedge of doom,
Let be, if error writ, and on me proved,
Dumb see my wit, for no man clever loved.
30 October 1991 revised 14 July 2007 and 1 May 2010
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Parody William SHAKESPEARE 1564_1616 Sonnet CXVI
For previous version see after notes and links
Author notes
acrostic sonnet LAW OF THIS WORLD
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readers should carefully compare text line by line to that of Shakespeare's version
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Title One Four Square Sonnet...One hundred and 4 x 4 = 116 = Sonnet CXVI
four-square
• adjective 1 (of a building) having a square shape and solid appearance.2 firm and resolute.
• adverb 1 squarely and solidly.2 firmly and resolutely.
see also the game Four-Square where eternal triangle tries an additional angle
http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four-Square
Animat ed Cat tossing Dog http: //media.photobucket.com/image/%22animated%22%20%2 0%20%20%22cats%22%20%20%20%22dogs%22/boedaxkeneh/ funny_animated_pictures_18.gif? o=13
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MARRIAGE OF TWO MINDS
Let not into the marriage of two minds
Admit expedience. Love is not love
Which falters where it altercation finds
Or ends when some observer would remove.
Fie no! it is an ever fixèd mark
That looks on cats and never is awaken,
Here, ‘tis the dog-star to every wandering bark,
Its birth unknown although its bough be shaken.
Since Love Time’s fool is not, though rosy cheeks
Within his wending tickle’s compass come,
Or alters not with years which havoc wreaks,
Remaining shady to the edge of doom,
Let thus if error this, and on me proved,
Dumb be my w[r]it, for no man ever loved.
30 October 1991 revised 14 July 2007
Parody William Shakespeare - Sonnet CXVI
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SONNET CXVI
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star which every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, altho’ his hight be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
William SHAKESPEARE 1564_1616
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STRUGNELL'S SONNETS VI
Let me not to the marriage of true swine
Admit impediments. With his big car
He's won your heart, and you have punctured mine.
I have no spare; henceforth I'll bear the scar.
Since women are not worth the booze you buy them
I dedicate myself to Higher Things.
If men deride and sneer, I shall defy them
And soar above Tulse Hill on poet's wings -
A brother to the thrush in Brockwell Park,
Whose song, though sometimes drowned by rock guitars,
Outlives their din. One day I'll make my mark,
Although I'm not from Ulster or from Mars,
And when I'm published in some classy mag
You'll rue the day you scarpered in his Jag.
Parody William SHAKESPEARE – Sonnet CXVI
COPE Wendy 1945_20xx
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
poem by William Shakespeare from Sonnets (1609)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Wife to Be (Petrarchan Sonnet)
I stroll along a fragrant country lane
With honeysuckle perfume on the air -
And feathered crooner's warble to revere -
Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain
In empathy - it seems to sense my pain
Of knowing all was done with my affair -
Her empty meaning now the solitaire
She cast away - betrothment all in vain.
But oceans team with many fish to catch
So I must up and hoist another sail
And seek the one that really waits for me,
For soon auspicious breezes will prevail
In guiding forth to find a truer match:
The one to take my hand as wife to be.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
ma rriage
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Love Has No Kind Of Impediments (Cavatina Sequence)
(after William Shakespeare)
Love has got no kind of impediments,
it does stay true,
its direction does not wander about,
its simple bright hue
like a star sets an unfaltering mark,
it does shine through
the darkest bitter kind of circumstance
goes far deeper than only some romance.
True love is present in every glance,
some soft lips, cheeks
do entrance, but its totally timeless,
it does not seek
something better for itself, it's selfless,
at times it's meek,
yet wild, unfathomable in essence,
it draws two people to its own presence.
[Reference: 'Sonnet 116: Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds' by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Love stays true
Love stays true
like the compass to its core
and do not issue
any wavering, to the one that it adores
and without any alteration from its state
it is fixed, pointing to the limitless beyond
without having to wait
on what destiny demands and it ties with its own bond
in the spirit and soul of the human race,
it is much more than mentioned above
and its power supersedes time and space
or it does not function as love:
whatever challenges it face or anything that looms,
it is perfectly sincere and true past death, past doom.
[Reference: Sonnet 116 “Let me to the marriage of true minds” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Love alters not
(after William Shakespeare)
Let me state with all of humankind
as my witness, that love is more than bliss,
is much more than the drawing of a kiss,
it does no error or any change find,
it is true to the body, soul and mind,
in the simple things of each day it is
and all other allures it does dismiss,
much stronger than life, pass death it does bind,
burns with a kind of eternal hot flame
which wanders not within time, months or weeks,
its acts, its words continually does bloom,
in hardship it does not find any blame,
eternally sincerity it seeks,
it stays true, even at the gates of doom.
[Reference: “Sonnet 116 Let me to the marriage of true minds” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Poetries
Step lightly here;
Words below:
Adverbs too.
Be ginger with the Sentences;
Note: the Clauses have so much Ego.
Oh, let's not talk Punctuation,
the pickiness makes for unrelating.
I have had a personal thing about
the Pluperfect Tense,
before I learned to get it right-
I think.
Now, I do like the Action Verbs
they stand out.
But the Hyperbolic Adjectives are overused,
don't you think?
The pronouns are the worse.
Especially the 'I'
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They even look like prison bars,
so limiting I think.
The 'G' is great.
Looks friendly; rather like it's waving.
Well, you get the idea.
Have to go you know
Here comes Mr. Period.
He is so rigid.
He thinks everything
begins and ends
with him.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?
How Do I Parody?
How true I parody! Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, taste copy paste insight
My mind can reach into your writing quite
Through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
post hosting feed, by sun, electric light.
In vers libres freely, sonnet set to right;
I pastiche purely, rarely spurning praise.
Reparody with passion put to use
through griefs, beliefs, rehearsed, though wanting faith.
I parody love’s theme, who dreams accuse.
Newfangled paints b[l]end colour bending brea[d]th,
Smiles, tears, [p]rune poem’s life! - and, if judge choose,
gold goblets garner, googled after death.
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
12 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 and 30 September 2009
for previous versions see below robi3_1323_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX
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How do I Parody?
How do I parody? Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, with taste and with insight,
my mind may reach into your writing quite
through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
intimate grace, by sun, electric light.
in vers libres freely, sonnet set to right.
I pastiche purely, rarely turn from Praise,
reparody with passion put to use
through your old griefs, beliefs, though wanting faith.
I parody with love I’d never lose,
use paints newfangled, shading E.B.B.ing breath,
still showing your life's smiles, tears, for, should judge choose,
my golden goblet fame lives loved past death.
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
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Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
Sonnet XLIII
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elisabeth Barrett BROWNING 1806_1861
poem by Jonathan Robin
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To me my love, you never can get old
To me my love, you never can get old,
as I saw you when each one
of us were young and now in forty summers hold,
to the same beauty after many years have gone.
It is as if time stands still
and although I might be deceived
and forever will
as in you I have perceived
something exceptional and the same spark,
the same enchanting
that on me left its mark,
in that far off spring and it is still rising:
if love is put to the test,
for me in you, she answers to the best.
[Reference: Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Evolution
Long, long ago as poets know.
A sonnet was a little song
without rules you had to follow.
There was no way you could go wrong.
Petrarch invented a fixed form
and then Will Shakespeare altered it.
Both are accepted as the norm
although they vary quite a bit.
Since Will most poets had a try
to write a sonnet in their way.
The hide bound purists can't deny
there’s many sonnet forms today.
Like any art fine poetry
evolves and improves constantly.
28-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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On Stream - From Sunken Spring Source into Rising Sun
From sunken spring source into rising sun
Nature transforms perspectives, inner eye
flows through holistic channels, once begun
soft symphonies share song, Time’s wrong defy.
Blossom spri[n]gs as h[e]aven's current stream
bubble bead wreaths ringing rainbow bridge
which links east's ‘floating world’ to western dream,
white light transmuting, muting urge to fidge.
How many times may readers full of care
read, bookmark, learn, digest each sound profound,
speed, look, hark, yearn, ingest, reach round despair,
to feed from inspiration’s hallowed ground.
Encounter unforeseen weaves sunlit leaves
rock scene switches, pastures green believes …
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‘floating world’ linking into first line 'rising sun' juxtaposes nature with http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Floating_world
See also rewritten as an acrostic sonnet
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FAIR UNTANGLED POETRY
FAIR garden blossoms through trust's rising sun
Uniquely satisfying inner eye
Nature's weave worlds, thriving, merge as one
Twin[n]ed symphonies of song, Time’s drum defy.
A cherry blossom spri[n]gs as h[e]aven stream
Neath rainbow bloom beads whose bouquet may bridge,
Graft, eastern ‘floating world’ to western dream,
Light bright transmuting, muting urge to fidge.
Extended gardens conquer care, wear, tear.
Digest, ingest each sound shade tone profound,
Pause, look and learn, yearn not, reach round despair -
One gleans joy harvesting rich hallowed ground.
Encounters unforeseen weave sunlit leaves,
TRY framing scene which pastures green believes …
27 April 2008
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Comedy of Errors
COMEDY OF ERRORS
Shrew tamed, All's Well, though here is Much Ado!
Antony and Cleopatra met
No Rape, no Tragedy, since each stayed true,
Grave born, like Romeo and Juliet.
Thus Richard, John and Harry had preferred
One History where each could heed thy call!
Measured each Tempest's threat is, for unheard
All envy's Comic Error is withal!
My love as Pilgrim Passionate here's signed,
As Venus to Adonis here allied,
Urge Lover's Complaint in neatest verse aligned, -
Dove Turtle are to Phoenix true supplied.
Echoed are Plays with Sonnets' sequent frame,
Continued may sustain Shakespearian flame.
12 November 1990 revised 22 September 2008 as Sonnet CLXXIV Maude Care Is Our Dream Shakespeare's Plays Parodies
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… original version Sandrine Sonnet Cycle
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sonnet On A Star
If I could write a sonnet
on a star
Then bottle it and
toss it to the sea
Would it travel
to the corners of the Earth,
And echo there
the love I hold for thee? If I could write a sonnet
on the moon
Then bottle it and
toss it to the winds
Would it find your heart
So you may briefly know,
Where your love ends
Is where my love begins? If I could write a sonnet
on the sun
Then bottle it and
toss it throughout time
Would someone from a distant galaxy
Find no greater love
Than that was mine Yet, I cannot write a sonnet
on a star,
Nor moon, nor even on
the blazing sun,
Nor bottle words to send them
Where you are
Nor coerce our separate hearts
To beat as one And so my darling
You will never hear
The humble words of love
I wrote for thee
They remain encrypted,
tightly sealed
And yet they travel
on eternally
poem by Tamara Beryl Latham
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Anti-Sonnet
They say a sonnet must be all about
Romance, and swing in rhyme and rhythm, but
I shall try to defy them and slam shut
The door on love, as I rant loud and shout
That I’m not interested in such things
As tenderness, soft speech, platitudes, that
Pander to their whims. Shall I fall down flat
As my attempt to write no ode that sings
Of soppiness will fail? I shall plough on
To put my case that I’m not going where
You want me. To put the finger on it,
This anti-sonnet is a love-less one:
Don’t goad me to be goo-ey, I don’t care
I shall not mention love in this sonnet.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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Great Laureate
When your Sonnet captures love's fantasy
A 'second Shakespeare' you may be
Writing of beautiful romance in bloom
Farewell to yesterday's doom and gloom.
All the wide world would welcome thee
Because of your knowledge and mastery
Young lovers may sing your madrigals
And a 'second Shakespeare' you will be.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Sonnets Are Full Of Love
Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstare while I go and come
And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honoured name:
In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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On Sonnet CXVI - Parody William Shakespeare
True Love cannot change
the object of affection, -
but new loves oft exchange
their subjects on reflection…
Sonnet CXVI
L’Amour vrai ne change jamais,
a un sujet, fidelité.
Mais le léger échangerait
ses sujets souvent, à son gré…
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sonnet- Sonnet Needs Rhymes
Can you a Sonnet write without its rhyme?
Now people want the modern verse that's free;
As ideas get stuck and cramped with time,
A Sonnet's like leafless branches of tree!
A Sonnet's great for men who rhyme too well;
Its beauty lives in metre, rhythm, rhyme;
Yet, it can never run into 'pel-mel';
The sonneteer can write in any clime.
Why abhor rhymes and not a Sonnet write?
Each genre has its rules to comply with;
Why sleep all day and stay awake all night?
Rhyme-play is done by Kindergarden kith!
Why ridicule something you can't do well,
Much things are done by practice, Sonnets tell.
poem by John Celes
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The Poet And The Baby
How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell,--
How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell,--
When a-toddling on the floor
Is the muse he must adore,
And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well?
Now, to write a sonnet, every one allows,
One must always be as quiet as a mouse;
But to write one seems to me
Quite superfluous to be,
When you 've got a little sonnet in the house.
Just a dainty little poem, true and fine,
That is full of love and life in every line,
Earnest, delicate, and sweet,
Altogether so complete
That I wonder what's the use of writing mine.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Sonetto
My Sonnet is cantante, is vibrant
as was formerly sing in Provance
has no oitavas or métricas
My love does not fit in such poetics
He finally speaks of my heart is
the time who does not can measure
the same time that can not I belie
All the love that i have for you
I love you more often today
subtly in love in displicente way
who does want nothing, that only belongs
I love you in my imperfect sonnet
I love you in verses my poorly done way
But it's truly love my romantic say
poem by Mirna Morgan
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My loves sonnet
My loves sonnet
~
My love is an unwritten sonnet
an ode to the greatest beauty
which sparks the soul into a song
and the heart a merry dance
which brings to life many a dream
such joy I now find in me
happy my soul thanks to love
that the world should hear
and share in such sweetness
the rich melody of this sonnet
still remains unwritten
but this love, such love
inspires all creation to thought
how can such beauty
be captured in words alone
to eternity I look and beyond
to read my unwritten love
is to live and watch over it
poem by Matthew Holloway
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