Sonnet Bref

Laying no claim to having originated the term,
I have nonetheless personally designated 'sonnet bref' as:





Examples in the next post:

Here are the 30 sonnets bref... that I wrote for a challenge this month:

1 mine

minimal is
mere brevity—
mine likely has
mixt comedy

i call it bref
in case you care—
it oft'll shave
its old veneer

never you mind
nit-pickin' me—
ne'er id defend
nothin' i'd say

'e go's somewhars—
exhalin' airs

MLee Dickens'son 01 April 2006

2 Bref Dickens'sonian

i really don't have time
to play around, but hey…
you know I like to rhyme;
i'll do it anyway…

don't ask me to obey
some silly rule today…

you think i'm oppositional?
i'm merely self-antiphonal;
my words go bidirectional
awing in bref or minimal.
Don’t tell me that it’s criminal;
it's something aboriginal…
perhaps a bit subliminal…
i’m sure it's adaptational.

© MLee Dickens'son 29 March 2006

3 Learn to Give

He'd rebelled for years before
he saw it was the norm;
Dickens spurred him to explore
the rules to grasp a form...

took the challenge to transform
instructions giv'n in Basque.
'ABC's help lunks perform
a complicated task.'

MLee wears no pompous mask
to hide his ignorance...
aims that he will not encask
his heart... nor wield a lance.

'Learn to give, and give to learn,'
he winks. 'Help, never spurn.'


© MLee Dickens’son 29 March 2006

4 Bref Invite

I needs a fresh perspective
ta see as others see…
my eyes is so defective,
cain't read the dang marquee

Yer tank is readin' empty?
Hey, I'll supply the gas.
Let's hop in yer ol' banshee
an' cruise a writin' class

Along the way, c'n canvass
ol' ladies with our pomes…
then stop at night an' have us
a feast 'n' rest our domes

So let's us get together
real soon… ain't nothin' better

© MLee Dickens'son 30 March 2006

5 Critter Bref

Perhaps I should explain
my visit here today:
I simply can't refrain
from commenting with play.

Bard's sonnet's mostly smooth
and bears my sentiment;
it bumps along, but soothes
my nerves. I know that's meant.

He chomps a little bit
and rares up at the rain.
I'd stirrup one small nit;
I know he'll not complain:

en français, it's en bref—
in English, it's in brief

© MLee Dickens'son 01 April 2006

6 Naught Doug in

I speak in brief,
my saintly friend,
for your relief
so strain will end

I'd ne'er offend
your scholarship,
but e'er emend
our fellowship.

No censure-ship,
nor forcing 'bref'—
it didn't slip
that you ain't deaf:

The 'en' was wrong;
it marred your song!

© MLee Dickens'son 02 April 2006

6 dysSpenser'd shells

ta write in short
be's more th'n fun
c'n be a sport
fer ever’one

quick on th' gun
ta shoot 'em back
at yarn's they's spun
but ne'er attack

jump from yer sack
an put 'em down
in white 'n' black
jes' go ta town

ye’re in the swing
reload the thing

© MLee Dickens'son 04 April 2006

7 oft-toll'd tale

I hear the knell
a-pealin' loud
that wondrous bell
above the crowd

whene'er a cloud
o' doubt may rise
so's heads is bowed
an' laughin' dies

ain't no surprise
fer me at least
it fills the skies
ta slay the beast

an' right on time
i loves its chime

© MLee Dickens'son 04 April 2006

8 Psalm 8 Bref

considerin'
the stars up there
made David spin
a Psalm somewhere…
sang 'What is man
that You pay heed'
o'er all that span
fer what we'd need…

an' he was glad
an' so am i...
that He'd design
'is muted plaid
across the sky
fer eyes like mine

© MLee Dickens'son 07 April 2006

9 Anonymity

Half measures didn't
change a thing;
the stuff half-hidden
spurred a fling.

It's baffling, cunning
how it keeps
right on a-runnin'
when I sleeps.

I'd thought that an-
o-nym-i-ty
was secrets… then
I came to see

I’d best not keep
the truth from me.

© MLee Dickens'son 05 April 2006

10 dimmy-terse

we's but censors
fer the burnin'
Light-dispensors
fer the learnin'

though they's spurnin'
what we's teachin'
we's returnin'
ever reachin'

sometimes beachin'
things we's written
sprawled out bleachin'
shark-bait bitten

bones ta pick'll
some folks tickle

© MLee Dickens'son 04 April 2006

11 wake writin'

i ain't no Poe
wi' meter'd rimes
tho i's let go
a coupla times

but writ'n' all spaced
jist ain't too safe
could cut 'n' paste
m' brain er strafe
somebody near
an' get me shot
i's 'fraid o' beer
an' crack an' pot

might pomes they'd make
lay me a wake?

© MLee Dickens'son 07 April 2006

12 no tear?

important re
discussioning
an' likewise re
percussioning:

ya needs ta know
how yer pal means
ta keep th' flow —
c'n stir up spleens

ya gots ta ask
when in 'is yard
fer dinin', baskin',
be'n a bard:

"what means 'not here'?"
ya needs ta hear

© MLee Dickens'son 11 April 2006

13 lyin' wi' the Truth

I Peter 3
says all I need
ta set me free
o' ego greed

i's s'posed ta know
why i believe
an' then jes' stow
it, not to peeve
my neighbor; then
if he should ask
i'll tell 'im, when
we chat 'n' bask
out in ‘is yard...
'cause we's both tard

© MLee Dickens'son 07 April 2006

14 Prints Dunce-Duck

i think ya knows me crown
is pointin' to th' Source
folks say "He's jest a clown
with all those rhymes he’ll force"

adorned in dunce cap wreath
an' robed in purple cape
i writes with smilin' teeth
but often inglish rape

but that’s the way i is
an' i is proud ta say
though i sher ain't th' Wiz
i's flappin' in the fray

duck-wing'ed though i be
i soars wi' mirth 'n' glee

© MLee Dickens'son 07 April 2006

15 If'n they rings me chimes…
don' knock it

one day I may
invite 'em in
ta see if they
can stand the din

but ere i do
i'd set CDs
fer music to
drown two TVs

an' have the kids
come in ta play
an' flip their lids
what can I say?

i didn't ask...
so it's their task

© MLee Dickens'son 09 April 2006

16 A Gentle Rule

To fear the ruling wrath
presumeth there be rule;
a living bard who hath
assumed so's 'haps a fool.

Each form is but a tool
for Englishmen to use;
one needn't be a mule
and variance refuse.

Our feet fit many shoes;
arrays of styles avail.
They'll walk, swim, take a cruise;
there needn't be travail.

A gentle rule, we learn,
is what our hand may earn.

© MLee Dickens'son 12 April 2006

17 impossiblous

'Anonymous'
works purty well
as dimetous
but let me tell
ya: 'tother word
'll give ya fits —
that '–ity' sherd —
from whar i sits
Jes' 'tempt it, an'
see what i means
Try if ya can
howe'er ya leans
Some things is full
impossible

© MLee Dickens'son 13 April 2006

18 monometer for Cat

today
i see
you play
with me
to break
the rules
an' take
wee tools
to use...
yet not
confuse
what's taught

- your pard
an' bard

© MLee Dickens'son 13 April 2006

19 meltin' rime...

I see
she tried
daDee...
then died;

herr rhyme
was not
this time
what's sought.

Mono
meter
is slow
to purr...

she’ll ply
the sky.

© MLee Dickens'son 17 April 2006

20 Sittin' SillyBull

No syllable
in 'is outpost
is billable
by any host.

'is copyright
is fer 'is pomes
so's not to slight
the writin' gnomes.

'e's got big feet
but they c’n dance,
an' from 'is seat
'e'll often prance.

Sometimes 'is strum
don’t match th' drum.

© MLee Dickens'son 18 April 2006

21 painful wait fer dande

startled awake, stabbin' pain
graspin' me shoulders again
strummin' the blues
in 'lectrical hues
seems that it ain't gonna wane

so… I'll head out to the tree
but still… can't dande see…

i git me laptop an' wait…
mayhaps she'll skip by the gate
she's taken 'er goods
up to the north woods…
Circadia, sooner or late

© MLee Dickens'son 20 April 2006


Note: Having waked up with pain in my shoulders and hands this morning, I'd already 'decided' to try fitting two abbreviated limericks together with a rhyming couplet to make a distinctive sonnet bref... so my 'interaction' with dande ( who's been now posting her third round in a third place! ) prompted this. I just couldn't resist... and I carved 'er initials in a tree up in them thar woods too! ;D

22 o' bits

wild winds have ceased
huge branches hewn
some passing beast
has our friend strewn
great tire-swing bough
twigs, leaf debris
remember how
we'd had to flee
emotion bits
on scraps of brain
synapse were writ…
alive, not slain...
they're penned in blood
where willow stood

© MLee Dickens'son 21 April 2006

23 Poppygation

A Poppy is no stranger
curled up beneath some log
but looms a re-arranger
of fields where once stood bog
plowed up and spread, then harrowed
now seeded from her pod…
a million tufted arrows
point out beyond, to God

The earth can never still her
nor others of her kind
who propagate what nature
has stirred up in their minds
and hearts to share whatever
new hue their petals find

© MLee Dickens’son 22 April 2006

24 'round a garden

Bronze, shriveled daffodils,
wrung bluebells hushed and gone…
chickweed through leaf mulch spills
out on a greening lawn.
Soft rainfall slowly fills
then overflows old pond
where enervated koi
play tag 'round ice-bent frond
the freeze did not destroy.
Aloft, lithe Dogwood's donned
a white and pink pastel;
Oak snows a yellow dust
that wheezes All is swell…

while Mower spits out rust.

25 temparents

Twin grandsons give excuse
for growling like a dog
act like a silly goose
appear to slip a cog

I sing as Daniel Duck
or squeak as Danny Mouse
don cloak as Friar Huck
to stalk around the house

When parents are away
we’d like to give ‘em sweets
but we’re the one’s who’d pay
for hyperactive seats

But when the weekend’s o’er
they’ll head for home once more.

© MLee Dickens’son 29 April 2006

26 loungin' a round

a three-foot pool is fine
ta cool a body down
er even lounge 'n' dine
while turnin' slightly brown

a four-foot's better yet
fer swimmin'... if it’s large
but upkeep's rough, I'd bet...
an' neyburrs cain't be charged.

five-footer'd be a dream
what may come true sum day
but that'd be extreme...
an' be more work th'n play

fer now I'll float right here...
there'll always be next year.

© MLee Dickens'son 29 April 2006

27 slack

figg'rin' takes more time
th'n doin' it, I think,
an' when they's not in sync
it's like ya're doin' mime
'cause nothin' quite gits done
what you's been thinkin' 'bout
an' they's but little doubt
ya'd rather do what’s fun.

so git yer body out
an' do what's gotta be,
an' after that, come back
... an' cut that stupid pout!
git rid o' ol' debris,
an' give yer spouse sum slack.

© MLee Dickens'son 29 April 2006

28 surprising Rene

a birthday comes
a birthday goes
no beating drums
nobody knows

but secretly
they’ve baked a cake
discordantly
a song they make

you come home tired
prepared to sleep
but now they've fired
adrenaline… bleep

oh well, you say
it was my day

© MLee Dickens'son 30 April 2006

29 and folding

My April brefs
are near their end
Those graded F
I won’t defend...
but it’s been fun
nevertheless
I’m nearly done
with this fine mess

Though I've enjoyed
a little stint
in smaller size...
if I’ve annoyed
you with my print
I ‘pologize.

© MLee Dickens'son 30 April 2006

30 Life don’t end at 30

A month of rain
has been too brief
but trees and grain
are sprouting leaf

Return to pro—
duck-tivity
and quid pro quo
proclivity

a riposte here
response-pome there
pas très austere…
mayhaps a prayer

I’m thirty twice
but I’m still nice

© MLee Dickens'son 30 April 2006

Wow Daniel.

I haven't attempted ONE of these yet and here you are making it look so simple with THIRTY - each very unique.

Perhaps when I can sit down and take in each one, you will inspire me to try this form?

Ya never know...

I'll be back soon.

Cleo

Your string of brefs
has been so fine,
enjoyed them all
e'en though not mine.

I wrote a few
to test the form,
I like their sound
although not norm.

Experiments
can turn out well,
when playing 'round
then you can tell

how far we fools
can stretch the rules.

Thanks fer ticklin' me, Cat!

Loosin' our bref dancin'

We're not the fools
the jester said
of all the ghouls
who shake their heads
at silliness
with sacred forms
that pokes at them
who must conform

Don't they see the point?
Poems don't annoint
forms eternally
for the world to see
icons... holy... awed.
That's what's really odd!

© MLee Dickens'son 01 May 2006

deLightin' in the dance, Daniel

Critique Club

To me there's little diff
how many beats you choose;
I surely want no tiff
but try to not abuse
the names that others give
those forms which they adore.
For me, it's Live, let live!
I’d just as soon ignore...

but if I'd give critique
I can't... then I'm a schmuck!
I could say, Wow! Unique!
as though I've been dumb-struck.

Now there I go ~ the rub:

off beatin' with the club.

© MLee Dickens'son Friday the 13th ~ Oct 2006

^{Here's another old one that I offered to a fellow-writer in response to his verson of a shortened sonnet-like forme... and I offered it with slant rhyme:}

MLee’s Slant en bref

what’s yours is yours;
what’s mine is mine—
i would not force
my ‘bref’ on thine.

your ‘minimal’
is not the norm—
but i’d be small
to not conform

MLee, en bref
has always been—
a cause o’ grief
to folks, so then

en bref i speak—
for shortness sake

_{© MLee Dickens'son 02 April 2006}