Abusing Women II
Picture This (I think you can...)
Rearranged in the Shakespearean Sonnet form...
************************
And so he pretends to be your lover,
But blames you for his own ineptitude,
'Til his subliminal rage takes over,
Resorting to brutal acts and language crude,
You protest and he becomes more irate
Anger and resentment builds, blinding him,
He says women lie and he's filled with hate
And suddenly you become his victim,
Used, battered, abused and accused by him,
You do not dare follow where he has led,
His anger is bright and his wits are dimmed
And if you cannot run, you'll wind up dead!
Where you needed love, the back of his hand
Is what you get, so run while you still can!
poem by Karl Stuart Kline
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Don't Tell THe World! (Sonnet)
This Sonnet is in the popular Petrarchan Form
I behold thy love as beautiful thing,
In my wrecked heart, a pleasure garden,
Thy revered love, a blooming Eden.
A daisy tuft seasoned by bright spring,
Surging in moments that defeats waiting,
I behold thy words as a jeweled crown,
On my worn pages of despicable frown.
And thy memory feeds my mind dying,
Daring couple disclose, but don’t you tell,
About memoirs many encased and kept,
Say not thy chronicle, sweet as daisy smell,
Buried, not unseen to thy eyes except
Reveal not, the guarded stash of our love,
Lest a rational world desires to know! ! !
IA NOTE: For those who find the format unfitting to a sonnet!
(Sonnet
only 14 lines long— and has a firmly fixed form. The sonnet works best for expressing strong emotion or intense feeling, firm purpose, or great seriousness. This form works best if you want to focus attention on a single thing—a particular idea, situation, emotion, problem, observation, etc. —the sonnet gets to its point quickly and efficiently, with beauty and charm of form or expression.
The Shakespearean (or English) sonnet and the Petrarchan (or Italian) sonnet are the two most prevalent versions of this form today.
A Shakespearean sonnet or English sonnet is written in one stanza composed of three rhymed quatrains (each making one point in a three-step argument) , followed by a rhyming couplet that summarizes the argument
A Petrarchan sonnet or Italian sonnet is composed of an octet followed by a sestet with a variable rhyme scheme. The octet presents the poem’s theme or problem, while the sestet offers a change or a resolution. In its traditional form, this sonnet never ends in a couplet.
Robert Frost was popular at Petrarchan form of sonnets.
sonnet’s formal requirements (14 lines of iambic pentameter with a specific rhyme scheme) , method (a strong focus on one subject) , and goals (persuasion, surprise, balance) ,
Ref: www.poetry.com/techniques/form of poetic expressions.
Thank You
poem by Seema Aarella
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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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sonnet
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everyday Now
I just woke up and I can see it now
Its never been this close before
Tried to tell myself I didnt care
Crying out why am I here
Theres no point in me hiding
And only now I can see
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Something deep inside said move away
Try to leave whats good behind
And I still ask myself
Why I let it go
All these years were wasted time
Theres no point in me hiding
And only now I can see
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Cause I never told you
That I could never live without it
Now the blames on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyday Now
I just woke up and I can see it now
Its never been this close before
Tried to tell myself I didnt care
Crying out why am I here
Theres no point in me hiding
And only now I can see
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Something deep inside said move away
Try to leave whats good behind
And I still ask myself
Why I let it go
All these years were wasted time
Theres no point in me hiding
And only now I can see
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Cause I never told you
That I could never live without it
Now the blames on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
Everyday now
Everyday now
The blames gonna fall on me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diversity for Friend Leslie
The sonnet form is capable
of being very flexible
It can be used to air your views
on almost anything at all.
From memories which you recall
to any subject you may choose.
Purists refuse to recognise
a sonnet form which in their eyes
is worthy of a total ban.
Because it differ from the form
which they insist must be the norm.
Petrarchan or Shakespearian.
Although they can stick to their views
I must refuse. I can’t agree
16/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
Jeffreys sonnet
Devised by Scott.J.Alcorn.
*syllables per line
Two sestets with a cross rhymed couplet.
Rhyme pattern
xxxxxxxA
xxxxxxxA
xxxxxxxBxxxxxxxC
xxxxxxxC
xxxxxxxB
xxxxbxx xD
xxxxxxxD
xxxxxxxE
xxxxxxxF
xxxxxxx F
xxxxxxxE
xxxxxxxG
xxxgxxxG
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lover Lover Lover
I asked my father,
I said, father change my name.
The one Im using now its covered up
With fear and filth and cowardice and shame.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
He said, I locked you in this body,
I meant it as a kind of trial.
You can use it for a weapon,
Or to make some woman smile.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
Then let me start again, I cried,
Please let me start again,
I want a face thats fair this time,
I want a spirit that is calm.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
I never never turned aside, he said,
I never walked away.
It was you who built the temple,
It was you who covered up my face.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
And may the spirit of this song,
May it rise up pure and free.
May it be a shield for you,
A shield against the enemy.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Pursuit Of The Sonnet
I cannot write a sonnet; it's too hard
To put such barriers around my brain
And thus I find my efforts often marred
Although I rephrase again and again
I cannot write a sonnet though I try
Through day and night, through winter, into spring
And even though I have no reason why
A ten-syllable line my thoughts won't bring.
But now I wonder just what is so great
About this 'iambic pentameter'?
And am almost resigned that it's my fate
That from the sonnet form I should defer
Yet, having spent so long in search of one
T'would be a shame if it should not be done
poem by SarahJane Platt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Poetic Prudence
A fixed meter, fixed rhyme sequence
Are important in Sonnet writing- Yes;
Thus, structured poetry is rigid- hence,
How far the thoughts get penned down is a guess!
The chosen form must suit the writer’s needs;
The structure too reflects the poet’s tone;
Both rosaries and necklaces have beads!
A sonnet must not be a sculptured stone!
Yes, content is more important than form;
The words must flow in harmony aright;
A Sonnet’s structure ought to do no harm
To what the poet intended to write.
What poets say must get the preference;
The other things shall act like just a fence!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-4-2005
poem by John Celes
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KISS ME KATE! (for Helen)
A Blazon sonnet?
That’s the one an
Elizabethan lover
would turn his
Elizabethan Miss
into a
list
itemise her attributes
(hidden or otherwise)
& tick ‘em off
bit by bit
like a ledger clerk
closing an account.
From the colour
of her eyes
(always had to be blue)
to the colour of her
hair(always a blonde)
from toes to tit
in one hit.
Sincere...not
the least little bit!
Yawn...stop me if you have heard this one!
A fashion accessory
for the gay young blade about town
already fallen out of fashion
before it had barely begun.
“Oi...darling! ”
“Yeah...you love! ”
“Get your ruff on
...you’ve pulled! ”
“I got 14 lines
Petrarchan or Shakespearean
...know wot I mean? ! ”
And a clever
clearheaded Elizabethan lady
would more than likely
(but politely)
tell ‘em
“Oh...f***est thou
off! ”
******
As Shakes puts it in Sonnet 106
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
Shakey also turned the blazon upside down in his famous sonnet 130:
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun,
Coral is far more red than her lips' red,
If snow be white, why then her breast are dun;
If hairs be wires, blackwires grow on her head.
I have seen roses, damask'd red and white,
But no such rose see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, - yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go, -
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare!
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Less of the Different?
(after Ashbery)
A sonnet's 'just more of the same'? Uh, no.
It's rather like less of the different.
There is no formula involved, you know.
True, syllables and lines and rhymes get spent
At predetermined intervals: mirage
Of order. Inside, sonnets are a mess
Of words, a slew of syntax, a barrage
Linguistically set off; are nonetheless
Provisionally impish-and as free
As freest verse to chat up any ear
Or signal any eye. The form, you see,
Is just a well mapped route from which to veer.
A sonnet is a disobedience
Of sounds, a flaunt of form, a tease of sense.
Hans Ostrom
poem by Hans Ostrom
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All You Need
One sweet kiss that still does linger
on your lips, touched by a finger
is all you need to picture the face
of a lover that will linger.
One tender embrace you still can feel
on your body your arms entwine
is all you need to remember the one
that is your valentine.
One gentle smile you can picture still
in your mind or reverie
is all you need to recall the thrill
your lover gave to thee.
One soft touch that is felt by you
whenever you're alone
is all you need to keep you alive
'Til your lover comes back home.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marshalline Sonnet
Encased, enlaced, embraced in newness
Enshrined, in time, these are the feelings
So hear a poem that’s filled with trueness
Forget the world and all its’ dealings
We want a feeling that is golden
So hear this form that was imparted
It differs from the forms of olden
And sings to those who are lighthearted
The ending of each line is mellow
The body of this poem's bolder
It puts a smile on every fellow
And girls will lend a softer shoulder
This is the form Mairi created
Just do what she has stipulated
------------
Author's Notes:
Marshalline Sonnet:
The Marshalline Sonnet form is created by: AP poet; Mairi bheag.
This is a wonderful form that allows us to use feminine words for end line rhymes.
9 syllables per line with the following meter:
iamb-iamb-iamb-amphibrach
poem by Amera Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A man always blames the woman who fooled him. In the same way he blames the door he walks into in the dark.
quote by H.L. Mencken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The superior man blames himself. The inferior man blames others.
Valentine
My Valentine!
My lover!
For a short time
Fingers entwined
When you were mine
Walking through each others mind
Now just a picture of you
To which I say
I LOVE YOU!
My Valentine!
My lover!
Words you cannot hear
From me
To make your heart stir
Now you are free
Just a picture of you
To which I say
I LOVE YOU!
RG/NB
poem by Robert Green
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What a Dilemma (a Shakespearean sonnet?)
What a dilemma” exclaimed the poet
“a Shakespearean sonnet I must write.
If I succeeded I would not know it
Or have a clue if I had done it right.”
“Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter…
Of course, a carefully patterned rhyme scheme.”
The idea truly enamored her,
as she prudently pursued this pipe dream.
“First, three quatrains to show complication,
a final couplet to tie up loose ends.”
Sure result was an abomination…
Certain ridicule from all of her friends.
After hours of counting syllables, it
turned into way too much silly bullshit.
poem by Maggie Signaigo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What a Dilemma
“What a dilemma” exclaimed the poet
“a Shakespearean sonnet I must write.
If I succeeded I would not know it
Or have a clue if I had done it right.”
“Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter…
Of course, a carefully patterned rhyme scheme.”
The idea truly enamored her,
as she prudently pursued this pipe dream.
“First, three quatrains to show complication,
a final couplet to tie up loose ends.”
Sure result was an abomination…
Certain ridicule from all of her friends.
After hours of counting syllables, it
turned into way too much silly bullshit.
poem by Maggie Signaigo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Day What Future Will It Bring (Kyrielle Sonnet)
This day what future will it bring.
What songs will we finally sing?
Snow quietly gracing the ground.
There will then come a silent sound.
We will be skating on the pond
And ev'ry one will form a bond.
By crackling fire we'll gather round.
There will then be a silent sound.
No recipe will we follow
Flitting the night with the swallows.
We'll form a ring around, around.
There will then come a silent sound.
This day what future will it bring.
There will then come a silent sound.
- Ben Gieske, March 5,2008
*
A Kyrielle Sonnet consists of 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain stanzas and a non-rhyming couplet) . Just like the traditional Kyrielle poem, the Kyrielle Sonnet also has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza) . Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet consists of only eight syllables. French poetry forms have a tendency to link back to the beginning of the poem, so common practice is to use the first and last line of the first quatrain as the ending couplet. This would also re-enforce the refrain within the poem. Therefore, a good rhyming scheme for a Kyrielle Sonnet would be: AabB, ccbB, ddbB, AB -or- AbaB, cbcB, dbdB, AB.
poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Praise of a Sonnet
(this is not a true sonnet)
A sonnet, in classical form a charm
soft as sun dawn, it wakens spirit love
calling you, wanting you, it takes your arm
and whisks you away on wings of a dove.
There it holds you with its perfect meter
lullabying with it’s iambic tone.
Nothing does compare or could be sweeter
than the dance of love as poets have shown.
So take my hand and let us dance today
with these magic words penned so long ago.
We shall taste them, taste them without delay,
so succulent it makes our souls to glow.
A sonnet, lovingly given… hold tight
As dawn’s first light makes your spirit take flight.