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

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Ode To Happiness

Ode to happiness
Joy cometh in the morning.
May only peace reign.

All our hope comes from above.
Wars shall truly cease,
When that which is perfect comes.

Rejoicing always
We shall overcome sin’s grasp,
When Heaven arrives!

The Earth will sing a new song.
Every knee shall then bend down!


A Choka Poem goes like this:
1st 3 lines = 5,7,5 syllables
2nd 3 lines = 7,5,7 syllables
Ending 2 lines = 7 syllables each

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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


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Dust to Dust We Go

DUST TO DUST WE GO

Dawn saw fame borne away to flame no more
Undone our time, light's boon, for dust bests fun -
Sun's one hour rhyme, - night's soon sure, rust rests run.
Torn core, aims shorn, waylays true name so poor.
Thorn store shames born day's plays, few claim crow - chore
Once spun power mimes fight, loon scores crust, jest done.
Dunce - shun tower chimes' rite, noon whores' lust, gest stun.
Unpure frame, worn, frays, pays - too tame, shows flaw.
Scorn pour, lame mourn, praise phase new, game grows bore,

Turns tunnel dower, limelight’s floor just crest dun.
Won shone flower rimes, trite croon caw bust, Quest? none!
End: forlorn blame gaze stays acclaim, slows roar.
Glory for soul, some say life sends gold key,
Or we poor, sole, dumb pray strife ends, goal flee.

28 April 2009 Acrostic Sonnet DUST TO DUST WE GO

robi03_1887_robi03_0000 AQS_CDZ

NOTES:
Rhyme ABBA ABBA ABBA CC

most syllables in A lines rhyme with corresponding syllables in other A lines
most syllables in B lines rhyme with corresponding syllables in other B lines
final couplet all syllables rhyme

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Alankar(Decor) -74

Abortion-(Virgilio-
It is a seven line unrhymed poem
there are 6 syllables each in the 1st,3rd, and 5th lines,
5 syllables each in the 2nd,4th and 6th lines, and 8 syllables
in the 7th and final line.)

Abortion

When it came to its mom
Born first was the bond
A blessed moment both felt
But whose curse was it
Soon to break open it-
Sleet of blood and flesh
In mute wailing'mamma, mamma'

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Impossiblity (Irenga)

Glorious sunset,
the western sky ablaze with shades of red.
Nature’s artistry
beyond a mans ability
to emulate or imitate.

Nature’s artistry
beyond any mans ability
to emulate or imitate.
Although they still try.
Perfection beyond their grasp.

Natures artistry
beyond any mans ability
to emulate or imitate.
But driven by some inner need
they are convinced they can succeed.

First stanza
5 syllables
10 syllables
5 syllables
8syllables.
8syllables

Second stanza
repeat last three lines of first stanza
then
5 syllables
8 syllables.

Third stanza
Repeat
Last three lines of first stanza
Then
8 syllables
syllables
Japanese style poetry
no obligation to rhyme.


(22/07/2007)

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Attempted Sonnet

You asked, “Why don’t you write me a sonnet? ”
To be honest I’m not very good at rhyme,
Ten syllables sounds like a big struggle,
I wouldn’t stick to fourteen lines in it.
So I’m not going to do any of that.

I thought about stealing lines
From some other poems,
But I thought you’d realize what they were.
So I write this in my own words,
So let us doth go forth with prose.

How do I love thee? Let me think,
Erm, you make me feel good,
You make me smile.
I think I make you smile too,
When I’m not been stubborn.

All I can say is ‘I love you’,
Because that is what I feel.
A sonnet I can’t give you,
So all I give is this and my love,
I hope they will be enough.

© Charlie F. Kane

21/3/06

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War at Home

Ever since they took him away,
to fight that God forsaken war.
I daydream in our fields all day.
They took the man that I adore.

Gazing across the windswept grass
and waiting for the time to pass.
The memory of times before,
they took the man that I adore.

I know he’ll walk across that field
with battle wounds yet still unhealed.
My broken heart can take no more,
they took the man that I adore.

Ever since they took him away,
they took the man that I adore.


Author Notes:

Kyrielle Sonnet
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.

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Luc-Bat! you say

In Vietnamese Luc-Bat is a sonnet form
consisting of six and eight syllable lines

First line starts with six syllables, next eight

A 14 line rhyme pattern -
a.b.b.c./ c.d.d.e/ e.f.f.g/ g.a.

born/ fall/ all/ lush
bush/ earth/ birth/ man
Pan/ scheme/ dream/ jest
crest/ dawn

Try it in the loo!

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Bussokusekiku Japanese form

Bussokusekiku

6 lines
5 syllable, line one
7 syllables line two
5 syllables line three
7 syllables in the last three lines

Orientally
inspired I write poetry.
Exercise my brain
Look at things differently

If I can do it so can you

White chrysanthemum.
Signifying purity
One single blossom.
Typically Japanese
in its simplicity
Needs no explanation.

Savage warrior
who composes poetry.
Shows his softer side.
He must be a samurai.
A well trained brave fighting man
Writes beautifully of love.

28/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

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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.

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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

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too caffeinated
for seventeen syllables
maybe a sonnet

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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

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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.

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It Came Into My Mind

it came into my mind what she started as a riddle.
syllables of life.
and of the seasons.

nine syllables for her till blooming till wilting
of the chrysanthemum, those which are not so white
against the snowy mountain of Fuji

two syllables for her brief stay in the woods
when she comes back as part of the wood itself
the twigs mourn for her
the leaves do not sing and the river stops flowing.

i ask myself, now that i have learned what syllables stand for.
how many syllables do i need to love you completely?

i have only one for you. The rest shall be my lies.

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So Many Gifts 1052 Sandrine Bonnant after William Shakespeare Sonnet CXXII

So many gifts to praise, so little space
Admitted in one sonnet's fourteen lines.
No syllables string purer pearls to grace
Dearer neck white swan, admiring, signs.
Recording more by hints than overstatement
I find a phrase to praise, a way to free
No common rays which hasten to abatement,
Eternal mistress, timeless mystery,
Beauty's damsel with her dulcimer.
Other tunes for other ears may play,
No opiate one needs to dream on her
Need feeds from intuitions we'd obey!
Ask fourteen lines to touch her timeless scope?
Themes lack place to trace homage though I hope.

(13 November 2004)

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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.

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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.

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A Poet Became His Own Poetry

A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY

A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.

A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.

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They're getting me involved in intrigue again, and I think it follows a classic formula in a soap opera.

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