This morning’s piece…

…is, once again, a new work, written, albeit more directly this time, and not from memory, from two much, much older works. Both of these were two quatrains of Octameter. This was approximately the correct number of words and syllables to make a sonnet. 8 * 8 * 2 gives us 128 syllables. I kept the rhymes, although I moved them so they would ring with each other in a manner more true. Also Added a few more; so that, in all lines, there are three rhyming words, but sometimes there are four. I like the result very much, although I have, of late, thought that a Shakespearian scheme might have matched better with the existing rhymes–and I may well try for a “version 2” of this one.

Likewise, I may post the originals here, as, although they are quite youthful examples, I can find nothing about them about which I may feel ashamed.

I do have other works that oftentimes I feel are too harsh in their original forms, and that makes them wonderful sonnet writing material: Can I successfully romanticize that angst, or anger, or raw and vulgar hatred, that one more often feels when one is young?

Insults Make Me Happy:

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