Sonnets and Sonneteers wanted

[mat james]

Maybe you would be interested in writing a sonnet?
I am about to write one and I thought that some others on the forum may also enjoy the challenge/experience.
So,
“A sonnet is fundamentally a dialectical construct which allows the poet to examine the nature and ramifications of two usually contrastive ideas, emotions, states of mind, beliefs, actions, events, images, etc., by juxtaposing the two against each other, and possibly resolving or just revealing the tensions created and operative between the two.
... a change from one rhyme group to another signifies a change in subject matter. This change occurs at the beginning of L9 in the Italian sonnet and is called the volta, or "turn"; the turn is an essential element of the sonnet form, perhaps the essential element. It is at the volta that the second idea is introduced...There are a number of variations which evolved over time to make it easier to write Italian sonnets in English. Most common is a change in the octave rhyming pattern from (a b b a a b b a) to (a b b a a c c a), eliminating the need for two groups of 4 rhymes, something not always easy to come up with in English which is a rhyme-poor language.”
(http://www.sonnets.org/basicforms.htm)
Take a look at the website above if you would like to re-introduce yourself to the “rules”.
..The English (or Shakespearian) Sonnet:
..The Italian (or Petrarchan) Sonnet:
..The Spenserian Sonnet:
..The Indefinables

I like this “Indefinable” by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman (1821-1873)

"Sometimes I walk where the deep water dips"

Sometimes I walk where the deep water dips
Against the land. Or on where fancy drives
I walk and muse aloud, like one who strives
To tell his half-shaped thought with stumbling lips,
And view the ocean sea, the ocean ships,
With joyless heart: still but myself I find
And restless phantoms of my restless mind:
Only the moaning of my wandering words,
Only the wailing of the wheeling plover,
And this high rock beneath whose base the sea
Has wormed long caverns, like my tears in me:
And hard like this I stand, and beaten and blind,
This desolate rock with lichens rusted over,
Hoar with salt-sleet and chalkings of the birds.

You may have written a sonnet in the past or perhaps you would like to write one soon?
Familiarise yourself with the rules (see link above, if you need to) and have a go.
Expect informed and uninformed comment...no holds barred!

Mephisto

[Geoffrey]

mat james wrote:
>Maybe you would be interested in writing a sonnet?

i would indeed, but i have so little time to sit here - not to mention an inherent poetical deficiency that anchors me to the ditch of incompetence. sounds like a fun idea, though!!!

[Cate]

It does sound like fun. I'm going to try it, but it will take me a while.
During the next few days I spend some time reading some sonnets and see if I can get a feel for it.

[mat james]

Geoffrey,
"anchors me to the ditch of incompetence."
Just make your ditch 14 lines deep,
8 from the head
and 6 on your knees.

Strangely enough Cate, I have my rhyming words and the gist of my volta, but no story
????????never mind; I will wait for some muse to inspire my words.
The handy reality is that the rhythm is given to us in the iambic penta meter, the 5 "de-dums" that give us 10 syllables.
So maybe I will start talking to myself in a d-dumb sort of soliloquy-esque manner.
I'm a bit nuts anyway.

I get an image of me bouncing around on a pogo stick _ ~ _ ~ _ ~ _ ~ _ ~

MatbbgmephistoJ

[Cate]

I get an image of me bouncing around on a pogo stick _ ~ _ ~ _ ~ _ ~ _ ~

A pogo stick - that's a great idea, when I'm trying to keep my beat I'll imagine you on a pogo stick.

I've read a few sonnets tonight - this one seemed fitting for any of us thinking about making an attempt.

If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd,
And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet
Fetter'd, in spite of pained loveliness;
Let us find out, if we must be constrain'd,
Sandals more interwoven and complete
To fit the naked foot of poesy;
Let us inspect the lyre, and weigh the stress
Of every chord, and see what may be gain'd
By ear industrious, and attention meet:
Misers of sound and syllable, no less
Than Midas of his coinage, let us be
Jealous of dead leaves in the bay wreath crown;
So, if we may not let the Muse be free,
She will be bound with garlands of her own.

John Keats
http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/1125.html

[lazariuk]

Strangely enough Cate, I have my rhyming words and the gist of my volta, but no story
????????never mind; I will wait for some muse to inspire my words.

I don't think I am a muse, maybe sometimes amusing, but I have a story that I would like to see your fun mind have a go at.
You wrote:

A sonnet is fundamentally a dialectical construct which allows the poet to examine the nature and ramifications of two usually contrastive ideas, emotions, states of mind, beliefs, actions, events, images, etc., by juxtaposing the two against each other, and possibly resolving or just revealing the tensions created and operative between the two.

the two contrasting actions are a baby being swaddled by a mother to bring it peace and comfort and a baby being swaddled by a stranger to get it to be less bothersome. Have fun

[mat james]

Topic:

"a baby being swaddled by a mother to bring it peace and comfort and a baby being swaddled by a stranger to get it to be less bothersome.
Have fun.

Jack L.

....????????...?/???.??......OK, let's go;

A babe enmeshed

A babe enmeshed, I wander from my crib
Among her warm and soft protecting arms
That taunt me to love and calm, despite glib
Post natal woes; her milk and honey charms!
Icing-sugar, Turkish delight to jube;
There is no sweet allure that beckons more;
She is the Mystic Arc, the gel the lube
Amidst this hard-edged world adrift Your shore.
A hand adrift, a small salute I gave
But not to them; not that arctic other
Enchaining me to school and work and grave,
Defacing tapestries my young mother
Once sung and spun and enchantingly wove;
Legends of quest and hope, around the stove.

MatbbgmephistoJ

(...and thanks to Jack for jolting my brain into gear. I did take a slightly different tack, Jack, but you got me sailing.)
I have attempted a Shakespearean Sonnet.

Have fun everybody and anybody, ripping it to bits
Where's Laurie?

[Cate]

Mat I think I might be a bit of a pervert (yes I know you know that already – I think it’s this site - really I’m not this bad in real life – I don’t think) .
I’m afraid I’m thinking naughty things about your young Mother in the poem and I really have tried reading it in different ways. Milk makes me think of breasts but not in a sexual way in a loving mama feeding baby way but then you say honey charms and I’m already thinking of breasts so the sweet my mind flips to is a sweet honey pot… and then you go on to talk about all kinds of sweet things I like to put into my mouth … She is the Mystic Arc well I know your talking about mysticism and a painting but I of course can’t help but think of a woman’s body arched – Jelly and lube of course only makes me think of stuff that you need to keep your bike engine running smooth – doesn’t make me think of anything else – nope, nope, nope, nope….

I’m reading this as N. contemplating the difference’s between their own harsh Mother full of rules and cant’s and conditions and another Mother whose love is soft, sensual and brings a nourishing love that is really what N needs.

I'm going to come back to look at the structure later.

[Cate]

Link to Norman's Don't Give me any Lip Sonnet.

viewtopic.php?f=11&t=15106

[Lion of Lions]

Mat, I had absolutely no fun critiquing your poem, but these are my immediate thoughts about it

A babe enmeshed, I wander from my crib
Among her warm and soft protecting arms

“Among”, “among” ??? Sounds all wrong to me, and were there handguns scattered everywhere?


That taunt me to love and calm, despite glib

In what way do they taunt?? One second they are warm and soft, and protecting then out of nowhere they taunt. That is poetic cheating.


Post natal woes; her milk and honey charms!

“glib post natal woes”- shoot me

Icing-sugar, Turkish delight to jube;
There is no sweet allure that beckons more;
She is the Mystic Arc, the gel the lube

And let me guess, she probably goes to work on the tube? And every other night she trims her pube?


Amidst this hard-edged world adrift Your shore.

Do you want to change this or are you shore?

A hand adrift, a small salute I gave
But not to them; not that arctic other

Who is them?

Enchaining me to school and work and grave,

Miserable little git, this babe, he ought to cheer up and start talking normally as well

Defacing tapestries my young mother
Once sung and spun and enchantingly wove;

How do you sing a tapestry? Or perhaps it’s a typo and she used to “sign” her better ones? Don't say “enchantingly wove” unless you are deliberately seeking entry into ye olde world book of cliché

Legends of quest and hope, around the stove.

Make sure the stove is really hot, open the lid and burn them all, the mother, the baby, and the poem

[mat james]

Hi Cate (and King of Kings).

“Milk makes me think of breasts but not in a sexual way in a loving mama feeding baby way but then you say honey charms and I’m already thinking of breasts so the sweet my mind flips to is a sweet honey pot… and then you go on to talk about all kinds of sweet things I like to put into my mouth …”

The first quatrain is about a relationship; Mother and child, from the child’s perspective.
The second quatrain, traditionally is meant to develop the theme through the use of metaphor and hence, as you pointed out above, all those delectables that bring us back to the child’s (our!) main interest; mamma’s breasts !
You say,

“Mat I think I might be a bit of a pervert (yes I know you know that already – I think it’s this site - really I’m not this bad in real life – I don’t think) .”

And I say “No. You are 100% correct and envisioning the scene as I had hoped you might. So something in the mix (words/sonnet) has worked.

It is interesting to me that the first half of the poem has turned out with a rather (unintended) Oedipal complexion, which has, no doubt, subconsciously inspired our little limp-dick Lion of Lion’s adolescently anal tendency to nit-pick more than critique.
Having spat that out though, I think he has a valid point when he says;

“ Don't say “enchantingly wove” unless you are deliberately seeking entry into ye olde world book of cliché”.

I'm open for suggestions on how to improve this couplet.

Mephisto

[Lion of Lions]

It is interesting to me that the first half of the poem has turned out with a rather (unintended) Oedipal complexion, which has, no doubt, subconsciously inspired our little limp-dick Lion of Lion’s adolescently anal tendency to nit-pick more than critique.
Having spat that out though, I think he has a valid point when he says;

“ Don't say “enchantingly wove” unless you are deliberately seeking entry into ye olde world book of cliché”.

I'm open for suggestions on how to improve this couplet.

Mephisto

Matt, sorry you are hurting so much from the crit of your poem.

Thanks for mentioning the "valid point" about your "enchantingly wove" cliché. I wondered if you also had a response about

1. your use of "among" (a matter of usage, it makes no sense to me)
2. "glib post natal woes" (a matter of taste)
3. the too easy switch to "taunting" (a direct criticism)
4. the ghastly "jube" / "lube" rhyme ( a matter of taste)
5. your random cap in "Your" ( a matter of grammar)
6. an explanation of "them" ( a matter of understanding, it makes no sense to me)
7. how you sing a tapestry (a matter of curiosity and explanation, it makes no sense to me)

I am scared to think that the reason you didn't thank me and respond to those points is because you were too busy constructing your kind address to me "our little limp-dick Lion of Lion’s adolescently anal tendency to nit-pick more than critique" .

Matt, a free writing tip - when you use the word "our" it indicates to me that you lack confidence in your opinion and you need to pretend that you are representing a shared or common view. If you believe my listed points of crit. above are adolescent and anal then be strong and own your opinion.

I like giving crits. on poems regardless of who writes them.

I love Cate and wrote I didn't like her recent poem.

I have no feelings about you, we have never spoken. I wrote what I thought of the poem.

Sorry again that you are hurting

Lion of Lions

edited to ask if you are in any way related to the Mat who wrote Have fun everybody and anybody, ripping it to bits?

[Lion of Lions]

I'm open for suggestions on how to improve this couplet

Once sung and spun and enchantingly wove;
Legends of quest and hope, around the stove.



Here are the first few, please feel free to choose your favourite one.



Once sung and spun and sent to heaven
Legends of quest and hope, around the oven.

Once sung and spun and the end of the saga
Legends of quest and hope, around the Aga

Once sung and spun, an enchanting looker
Legends of quest and hope, around the cooker.

Once sung and spun and full of desire
Legends of quest and hope, around the camp fire.

Once sung and spun and sent to hell
Legends of quest and hope, around the well.

Once sung and spun and full of fame
Legends of quest and hope, around the flame.

Once sung and spun and enchantingly proven
Legends of quest and hope, around the oven.

Once sung and spun and takes a right turno
Legends of quest and hope, around the inferno.

[tinderella]

Wow!............... In my opinion.... the Lion of Lions is the best wordsmith in the world.

[Lion of Lions]

Wow!............... In my opinion.... the Lion of Lions is the best wordsmith in the world.

obviously true, but the real reason you say that is to show you know what an Aga is!

Once sung and spun and enchantingly Bella
Legends of quest and hope, around Tinderella.