Sonnets, Part One (1/25/2010)

I hope these live up to their advertising. There are two types of sonnets: English and Italian. The English consists of three quatrains (ababcdcdefef) and a couplet (gg), representing arguments or statements on the topic and then a couplet conclusion. The Italian consists of an octave (abbaabba) and a sestet (which can maintain multiple rhyme schemes). The division of thought is a bit more vague. Part Two is coming soon. (Spoiler: one sonnet is an ode to the Jonas brothers!)

Form: English (Shakespearean)

Poet: A. Smith

Oh, Marshall, how you should have felt my day

Go down when I heard that I must try to

Attempt to write a sonnet that I may

Give you a chance to give my grade that's due.

You should have seen the rage that came o'er me:

"He doesn't understand the time it takes,"

I said. I could not write of love for Thee,

My mind was full of hate that could not break.

I knew I had to face reality.

I get to work to make my sonnet nice.

I chose the English - what monstrosity,

With fourteen lines my head turns into rice.

I feel relief for I'm near done. May you

Be pleased with my effort because I'm through.

****************************

Form: English (Shakespearean)

Poet: T. Butcher

The sword doth ring and shine as 'tis drawn out

Of its scabbard. This blade shall soon taste blood.

"Foolish it was to mock this man!" it shouts.

The one that threw the gauntlet down doth brood.

For 'tis his own fault that brought him such pain.

Now since he bought the fight with his own words,

He shan't bring this upon himself ever again.

His body crumpled as though by many hordes,

The sword, now sheathed kills no more men again,

For out of the darkness the dead man walks

Coming back from the dead, condemning sin.

The man that killed him doth turn 'round and balk.

I awake to find nothing has changed but

A cold sweat has broken, my arm is cut.

************************

Form: Italian (Petrarchan)

Poet: E. Martin

(Sobriety: questionable)

Once upon the little tree

I saw the leaves begin to give

But before then I saw them live

Then It right looked right at me

The trees then blew long and short

But never again to sway again

And felt the wind end to end

Also giving a good report

There they are gone to win

They play with socks and yarn.

Here they come with the hats on high.

If the team comes again,

He'll be so happy to see the barn.

So come again to see the trees fly.

***********************

Form: Italian (Petrarchan)

Poet: P. Reagan

What a Feeling When Love Knocks You Down

What a thing it is when you lose your love

She walks and scorns and curses your good name

You feel as if you are in wretch and shame

Her love, her warmth, her joy flies like a dove

You want to see, to love, to hug, to kiss

Today, you thought you saw her light from far

And thought, I will never live up to par

You got all excited for only this

Every breath, every step today you take

You resolve to commit for new loves' sake

So you can breathe, can wake, can walk all days

And so you can make more than one hoss shays

Yes, when love throws, love knocks, love flings you down

You won't live alone with an endless frown.