|
SONNET, Poetic Form Exercise |
|
|
|
Aug 7 03, 21:08
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,822
Joined: 3-August 03
From: Florida
Member No.: 10
Real Name: Elizabeth
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori Kanter
|
A sonnet is a poem made of 14 rhyming lines written in iambic pentameter. The rhyme schemes could be either: 1. Italian sonnet, also known as the Petrarchan sonnet. Named after a famous Italian sonneteer, Francesco Petrarch. The first 8 lines, which is the first two quatrains are rhymed as followed: ABBA, ABBA, The next 6 lines can be rhymed CDE/CDE, Or CDCDCD. There is a turning point from the 2 quatrains to the final stanza of 6 lines, it is considered a "TURN" or a VOLTA that effects the tone or mood of the poem.
Then there is my favorite, The English sonnet. It was developed by Henry Howard and is also known as the Shakespearean sonnet. It is made up of three quatrains and a final couplet. The rhyme scheme is either: ABAB, CDCD, EFEF, GG. OR ABBA CDDC EFFE GG.
The Spenserian sonnet links the three quatrains in rhyme pattern of:ABAB , BCBC, CDCD, EE.
The final couplet in both are where that turn in mood or concept is placed.
HERES AN EXAMPLE:
She was too kind, wooed too persistently'
by Samuel Butler
She was too kind, wooed too persistently, Wrote moving letters to me day by day; The more she wrote, the more unmoved was I, The more she gave, the less could I repay. Therefore I grieve, not that I was not loved, But that, being loved, I could not love again. I liked, but like and love are far removed; Hard though I tried to love I tried in vain. For she was plain and lame and fat and short, Forty and over-kind. Hence it befell That though I loved her in a certain sort, Yet did I love too wisely but not well. Ah! had she been more beauteous or less kind She might have found me of another mind.
Enjoy Writing SONNETS! :)
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Aug 7 03, 22:02
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,822
Joined: 3-August 03
From: Florida
Member No.: 10
Real Name: Elizabeth
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori Kanter
|
A Dance of Fall ...
September dawns and summer's heat relents beneath the vivid hues of Autumn's best. I sit beside the window, quite content to witness season's change; a magic quest. The leaves are freshly fallen--whisked and drawn as debris pirouettes a dance in air. So swiftly twirling, whirling 'bout the lawn, like pixies blowing kisses, light and fair. Then something swirls around; to my surprise enchanting me with every soaring spin. Its graceful dives and glides so mesmerize and stirs euphoric pleasures deep within. I watch a plastic shopping bag in flight, amazed that such a sight can bring delight.
EJD
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Aug 8 03, 20:03
|
Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
|
I humbly thank you Jewel of the Nile for posting this wonderful thread and explanation of Sonnets! :) WAHOO! I'm still new to them myself, and I just wanted to say, you've made them sound simple and challenging merged into one powerful package! Thank you and HUGS!! Cleo
······· ·······
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
|
|
|
|
|
Aug 8 03, 20:05
|
Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
|
QUOTE (AMETHYST @ Aug. 07 2003, 22:02) A Dance of Fall ...
September dawns and summer's heat relents beneath the vivid hues of Autumn's best. I sit beside the window, quite content to witness season's change; a magic quest. The leaves are freshly fallen--whisked and drawn as debris pirouettes a dance in air. So swiftly twirling, whirling 'bout the lawn, like pixies blowing kisses, light and fair. Then something swirls around; to my surprise enchanting me with every soaring spin. Its graceful dives and glides so mesmerize and stirs euphoric pleasures deep within. I watch a plastic shopping bag in flight, amazed that such a sight can bring delight.
EJD Simply beautiful! :love:
Your imagery brings this to life even more! My favorite season in New England. :) :) :)
I can almost feel the wind and the smells. My fav: "So swiftly twirling, whirling 'bout the lawn, like pixies blowing kisses, light and fair."
Hugs! Cleo
······· ·······
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
|
|
|
|
|
Aug 22 03, 18:21
|
Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
|
My first sonnet. I also incorporated oxymorons. It needs work I admit....comments welcome. :juggle:
Nostalgia’s Abyss
Silent screams resonate her sweet sorrow; forgotten memories, lost in true lies. Civil war leads to anguished hope; she cries bitter sweet tears - withered on the morrow. Constant change leads simply to confusion, alone together, just she and her mind; Seeking a criminal justice inside, pronounced silence, the harmful conclusion. Her sleepless sleep enslaves a small fortune, in a place where real potential exists; nostalgia purloins toward an abyss of random logic, where sanity’s strewn.
Intense apathy draws her back to the place, where she seeks only the will to erase.
······· ·······
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 12 03, 02:33
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
Brief Novice
Impressive PowerPoint emblazoned on a screen with color-coded graphs explaining things that everyone could see quite plainly -- if they knew the acronyms. (I yawn.)
I cast a furtive glance about, to see if I’m the only one confused or bored. Aha! A pair of eyes; they’re straying toward my own. We smile relief, “It’s not just me!”
Oh no! I fear his supervisor caught that upturned lip, the slightest wink. But wait; he’s nodding off? Then “Snort.” I think someone behind me’s dozing. Notes I jot.
Quite soon I’ll look as though I understand and nod appreciatively till I’m canned.
© Daniel J Ricketts 23 March 2002
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 12 03, 05:52
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
Yes, maybe we can get old Tom in here, Dolly! Whatcha think?
Here's a rather off-beat one -- my twenty-sixth:
Canvas Specs
An artist can be drawn into his sketches almost unaware he’s painting self – not someone else – till on the twelfth spot on the clock, somehow he catches
on this final hour the bells and whistles wake the neighborhood inside his body to the fact there’s something to his gaudy blotches scattered ‘round, and thorns and thistles
hidden in the background of his portraits, intricate in detail, living, breathing on the canvas. See the border seething sometimes unexplained with many more traits.
Hard to figure how they’re in the drawing. Could it be there’s something inside gnawing?
© Daniel J Ricketts 24 April 2002
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 13 03, 01:21
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 532
Joined: 4-September 03
From: Northwest Coast
Member No.: 29
Writer of: Poetry
|
In May
A scent of promise wafts from Spring bouquets and hope imbues the yellow daffodils. In May, the hills display soft maiden frills, beguile the bees to court their fragrant sprays.
The mower drones amidst a gray exhaust, yet blades of grass explode with green perfume while chirps and twitters anxiously resume to cheer the feathered swoops for insects tossed.
But I avoid the blooms and tweets, evade the lengthened hours of light. I lock my door and pull the curtains tight, ignore both chore and sport, to mourn the ways my youth has strayed.
A cherub’s voice impales my pall of dread, I love you Mommy. Happy Birthday! he said.
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 13 03, 07:43
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
deLightful, de Lovely Mickelle!
Race through this one:
deLightingly, Daniel :sun:
Catching Mania
Contagion is a strange and wond’rous thing. The world’s a stage for hypomania. But stages come and go; the zanier the mood, the more depression it may bring when it plays out. Without a doubt it will, and all the bit-part characters who yet engage with Leading Player, you can bet, bear risk of crashing, burning, trying still to take away the consequences of the crazy episode. They’ll fear to talk or feel; they’ll pass along the egg-shell walk. Somehow they think they can survive above the up/down dancing with a manic soul who gets depressed again. Ring up the toll!
© Daniel J Ricketts 24 April 2002
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 21 03, 04:37
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
Danse à la Cuisine
Her finely seasoned, choice ingredients prepared with care and toil, immersed in bath, now fill the house with rare, exotic scents… she glides to privacy behind the lath.
Impatient beauty dances there, alone, her bronzing flesh exposed… yet without shame, un-toweled, still dripping skin so soft… a moan that won’t stay simmering on a patient flame.
There must be someone with her there who shares that bubbling, wafting, soaring flight of dreams; such mystery… to solve it no one dares… emerging clothed, her love bursts at the seams.
No neon lights reflected on her face, but bright eyes giggling, squeaky-clean, she’s grace.
© Daniel J Ricketts 21 Nov 2003
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
Guest_Don_*
|
Nov 25 03, 17:00
|
Guest
|
QUOTE (Cleo_Serapis @ Aug. 22 2003, 18:21) My first sonnet. I also incorporated oxymorons. It needs work I admit....comments welcome. Nostalgia’s AbyssSilent screams resonate her sweet sorrow; forgotten memories, lost in true lies. Civil war leads to anguished hope; she cries bitter sweet tears - withered on the morrow. Constant change leads simply to confusion, alone together, just she and her mind; Seeking a criminal justice inside, pronounced silence, the harmful conclusion. Her sleepless sleep enslaves a small fortune, in a place where real potential exists; nostalgia purloins toward an abyss of random logic, where sanity’s strewn. Intense apathy draws her back to the place, where she seeks only the will to erase. Hi Lori,
I know enough about sonnets to be dangerous, so look out.
Per usual your imagery is strong. All except line thirteen has correct number of syllables. Something about that number 13, huh? I would drop "the," risking someone yelling, "Minimalist!"
First four lines are supposed to set ryhme scheme (of the options) for following three stanzas--or sets of four lines. I am speaking in English sonnet terms as this is what you have.
In first stanza your scheme is ABBA, but your second is CDEC rather than CDDC.
I will write off third stanza as okay with near rhymes, exists/abyss. Whoa, I reverse myself. Fortune/strewn do not ryhme. Plus fortune needs an end accent rather than a beginning accent. One of those iambic rules.
Maybe ending line 9 with little tune in place of "small fortune?"
In this case your volta of final two lines is a summing of the previous lines, which is technically correct.
I am going to beg off of iambic as most times I dig myself into a hole by doing so with other author's verse.
I am also going to beg off of rhythm, which is high profile, because I seem to have a tin ear.
Nice job Cleo.
|
|
|
|
Guest_Don_*
|
Nov 25 03, 17:12
|
Guest
|
QUOTE (Just Daniel @ Nov. 12 2003, 04:52) Yes, maybe we can get old Tom in here, Dolly! Whatcha think?
Here's a rather off-beat one -- my twenty-sixth:
Canvas Specs
An artist can be drawn into his sketches almost unaware he’s painting self – not someone else – till on the twelfth spot on the clock, somehow he catches
on this final hour the bells and whistles wake the neighborhood inside his body to the fact there’s something to his gaudy blotches scattered ‘round, and thorns and thistles
hidden in the background of his portraits, intricate in detail, living, breathing on the canvas. See the border seething sometimes unexplained with many more traits.
Hard to figure how they’re in the drawing. Could it be there’s something inside gnawing?
[sizeAre]© Daniel J Ricketts 24 April 2002[/size] Hi Just Daniel,
I know you are more of a sonnet master, so I question for personal illumination...if you please?
Stanza 3: Are end rhymes of lines 1 & 4 and lines 2 & 3 cheater rhymes??
Don
|
|
|
|
|
Feb 16 04, 10:37
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
QUOTE (Don @ Nov. 25 2003, 16:12) Hi Daniel,
I know you are more of a sonnet master, so I question for personal illumination...if you please?
Stanza 3: Are end rhymes of lines 1 & 4 and lines 2 & 3 cheater rhymes??
Don Hey, Don! Sorry to be so long in getting back here! I'd forgotten about the post... and I did say it was off-beat, didn't I?
How about trying this one on for size?
Englitch Poetry bLight
Where did my English teachers get those names? No wonder I had thought that I was dumb; Iambic and Pentameter? Word games! da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM
Why couldn’t they say “5 du DUMs”? and rhyme? I understand abab; that’s clear. and cdcd efef, fine. and even gg… sure, but who’s shake spear?
a raving native writer whose long pen he’d wave at all his critics, warning them that they’d be his next victim? No? Who then? Elizabethan? Pome with diadem?
Well, Teach, I think my DUMdaDUMin’s right; now could ya help me... What? I'm imp o' Light?
© M Lee Dickens’son 16 Feb 2004
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Jul 18 04, 22:51
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 862
Joined: 25-June 04
From: Ohio, USA
Member No.: 70
Real Name: Susan Eckenrode
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Merlin
|
Some great reading here....I feel like a kid in a candy store. I've been writing sonnets for nearly a year...I think I'm hooked.
This is my first Petrarchan Sonnet:
The View
A rose and golden twilight paints the skies as ocean breezes drift into their room through open windows, shattering the gloom that lingers where they whispered long goodbyes. She gazes out to sea with teary eyes and savors scents of daffodils in bloom. Will mem’ries of their parting always loom?. He's gone and won't return. She softly sighs.
Then comes a sudden chill to grip the air when all at once the sun sinks out of sight. She sees it going down within her view, just as it always does when no one’s there to watch it slip away into the night. Tomorrow paints with pallet bright and new.
By Susan Eckenrode
······· ·······
Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. MM Award Winner
|
|
|
|
|
Jul 22 04, 15:36
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
and a beautiful sonnet this is, Susan!
Here's one I wrote in the emergency room last night with a red pencil on a chart paper the nurse gave me:
Horseshoe Blues
A liquid diet hasn’t much appeal while lying in an ER room at night. I’d really like at least a 2-course meal. Come back here, Doc; I’m ready for a fight.
Okay, I know how dumb I was today to work out in the yard without a drink… then horseshoes in the sun. [I like to play!] Yes, vision kinda blurred. What do you think…
I shoulda stopped the game!? We were ahead! Sat down and drank a bit; my vision cleared… a little bit at least, and as I said, I didn’t wanna stop. That’s how I’m geared.
I looked beyond the cloud to throw the shoes and got the last two points… and now, the blues.
© Daniel J Ricketts 21 July 2004 in Emergency Room with low blood pressure from dehydration, protesting an overnight stay and no solid food
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 13 04, 08:21
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
Fences
Old fireplace crackles with a hickory breath inviting neighbors in to share the hearth… but no one comes, as though it smells of death inside; next door, behind a wall, cold mirth.
A gentle melody stirs memories of quiet evenings talking with a friend or boisterous games with gathered families on holidays or weekends. Did that end?
Alas, a fence about each house, three-car garages filled with tools and gathered toys; big-screen TV, new DVD, a stocked wet bar now entertain the grown-up girls and boys.
Good fences make good neighbors, so they say; perhaps they’ll visit us again some day.
© Daniel J Ricketts 13 Nov 2004
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Nov 28 04, 21:52
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 764
Joined: 18-October 04
From: Sabah, Malaysia
Member No.: 80
Writer of: Poetry
|
At Close Of Day
Shall we at close of the day, put aside our chores, relax and drink a cup of tea, to wash away a day's fatigue or ride a bicycle or jog and smell the sea ?
Do bring along your dog. He needs a break. You'll have a faithful guard and trusty friend. He is a listener and will not leak your secrets, tales of woe. An ear he lends.
Believe me! I don't mind to be alone a total peace, to look at the red sun and sing a little song or kick a stone. I need not smile. I walk and need not run.
But then we need a comrade while we jog be he our brother, husband or a dog. AggieL
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
|
Dec 1 04, 09:42
|
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,130
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
|
This is a pleasant little piece. Have you posted it for critique? I haven't been able to be much there of late, and this I think is my first meeting you! Is this more a modern sonnet, purposely only decasyllabic and not iambic pentameter?
Whatever the case, I love the ending, though I might say "be it..." rather than "he."
in de Light, Daniel
······· ·······
|
|
|
|
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:
Read our FLYERS - click below
Reference links provided to aid in fine-tuning
your writings. ENJOY!
|
|
|
|