The 101:

I have three steps so far from freeverse to decasyllabic line.  Next will be blankverse: in which I should approach iambic pentameter.  Five sounds of two syllables each all of which have a feminine first syllable and a masculine second.   And as was my plan before I was so rudely interrupted by existential sadness, I am backfilling with this project.  Which, thus far, I am enjoying greatly.  There is also some new material not related to this that I am in various stages of completing.  So, unless my work ethic disappears along with my sadness, I shouldn’t think I’ll have too much difficulty catching up.

Here is the sequence as it sits so far:

This is, of course, not a formal course, as I have neither qualifications nor experience with composing such things.

I may do a write up on each entry; however, as of now, this is not planned.  My more classically enabled sweetheart and, two dear and much more classically educated friends might be willing to help me with suggestions as to how to arrange such a thing.   Still, since I have the impression that this project will, at best,  receive one or two hits here and there, I am in no rush to do so.  Regarding the evolving sequence and the progressing sequence to follow, the sonnets themselves are the most important.

 

I’ll have enough to do as it is in catching myself up, as it were!

Wish me luck!

The Course:

This first round will be
the gradual evolution of one piece only.
I believe I shall show

the same or similar examples
But each one differing in subject matter
In the next short series.

I had originally written the above as the introduction to the first sonnet in the first series, both of which are mentioned above; however my sweetheart has written such a lovely piece–or, more accurately, I took down verbatim the naturally poetic words she quietly uttered when nearly asleep.  And for some reason, although I confess I had written it first–that is, before her lovely words I posted–here we have another moment of synchronicity wherein what is the first offering in the series is an answer of sorts.   I had originally intended to use a much more tame subject; however I tend toward perversity whether I intend it or not; and as usual, I have gone the other way.  In any case, I shall leave my sweetheart’s wonderful words where they are, as I have found that moving things about can have disastrous results for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that wordpress.com’s so called permalinks  are…  well…  not permanent.

In any case the “course material,” if such it can truly be called, is here:

I have (un) done it!!!

I have, indeed, completed all the “<— previous — view — next —>” links. I have been working on it a little at a time. And now I am done! Sometimes I would add the links from the older toward the newer. Sometimes, since I have been adding the links to all the new posts, I have added some at the front, slowly working my way from the newer to the older. Occasionally, I have done some editing on a sonnet or introduction somewhere in between, and have added the links while I was there, which made the process seem faster–like being dealt a wild card, or a free square in a crossword, or in “Scrabble.”

Now I can go back to archiving the site posts in skydrive, which had been my “do it when I have free time” project, prior to this.

UPDATE:  I have undone it!  No more extending functionality unless it can be done within what is available.  Otherwise such things are far too difficult to maintain.

To Sonnet Writer~Mr. Emeron | Lyrical Love

My heart, sliced and lays upon a slab of ice so cold
Some days I struggle inside to be a poetess, I am not so bold…
I spill heart and soul, before a world, that exists but in my head,
Sometimes silence is my choice instead.
I fear others will never understand the internal world
That tortures the mind, for in this world I’ve been hurled
Not the one of which I dream
I fall in love, I explore, my heart does scream
But not all on the planet are understanding of this call
It hurts to expose internal to all
Feeling as if filleting heart through to spine
I hide myself not so well when I spill forth in rhyme…
Feeling some days I’ve become too raw as forth I spill
I have sought seclusion, a bitter pill
You ask me to stay, I show, I read your write
They are so very kind, inside my soul they light
Such kindness, I could not refuse to show my face,
I am still here, inside this haunting space.
Thank you for your words kind, Mr. Emeron
So for you, I sing this morning song.
X

via To Sonnet Writer~Mr. Emeron | Lyrical Love.

I do not have…

…writer’s block, nor stage fright, for that matter.  I am not quite sure why that is, but still, sometimes it is difficult to bring myself to keep to my schedule.   Particularly now.  I know I could, for example use one of my developed techniques to write several sonnets in the next hour or two; but I can already tell, I am not going to.  I think tomorrow, I will do so.

Lately, I think I have have written a series of more serious and more heartfelt sonnets, and these do not necessarily need to be the norm.   When I started this project, I made a joke about not writing sonnets about trivial matters, still, there is something between writing about one’s sunburn during one’s vacation (in Majorca, I have always maintained) and writing a nice-sounding sonnet about a less trivial but still not a soul deafeningly deep matter.   I thought nothing of doing this at first, as I mentioned.  Still, I think I have been having what a dear friend of mine would call “a case of the blues.”  And I am disinclined to write about this case for the reason above.

Sometimes one gets to a point where one does not wish to delve.  I am after all, more–much more–a musician than a writer of any kind.  And even though music is more difficult than writing–as is practically every field of human endeavour–in the grand scheme of things, music comes rather more easy to me than writing.  So to compose a sonnet that sounds nice the subject of which is rather vague or even cryptic, is not a difficult thing to accomplish.  Still I do feel much better now that I “verbalise” this fact.

I can write, perhaps because of whatever musical, or one might say: “sound related senses,” I may posses, something rather quickly.  Some of these sonnets have ended up being quite nice to my ears; and, as often happens in such a case, capriciousness gives way to depth as one writes, arranges, and rearranges words in such an endeavour.  Sometimes of course the result may…  sound better than it means, or sound more clearly than its meaning is clear.  Still, more often than not, perhaps, these are nearly indistinguishable from those into which I invest quite a lot of thought and emotion and research of one kind or another.

Quite often, a very deeply held feeling can also roll off the pen, even when one is using a particularly difficult form.  Although my general “policy,” as it were, has always been to let the text dictate the best form to use.  I have very many to chose from, in sonnet writing.  When one realises there are:

  1. Shakespearean (abab,cdcd,efef,gg)
  2. Reverse Shakespearean (aa, bcbc, dede, fgfg)
  3. Interlocking Shakespearean (abab, cdcd, dede, fg — fg abab, cdcd, efef)
  4. Italian (1221, 1221, 6*{AB} | {ABC} (six final lines of two or three ephemerals which can vary in almost any combination))
  5. Reverse Italian: 1221, 2112, AA 4* {BA} | {BC} (two or three rhymes but beginning with a couplet.
  6. Spenserian (a1a1, 1212, 2323, bb)
  7. Reverse Spenserian (2121, 3232, 4343, [14][14])   one of my favourites.
  8. Emeronian (a1a2, b1b2, c1c2, [d1][d2])
  9. Reverse Emeronian (1a2a, 1b2b, 1c2c, [1d][2d])   another favourite.
  10. Sequential (1234, 1234, 1234, [12][34]) another invention
  11. unnamed (aa1a, bb1b, cc1c, [1d][1d])
  12. Canopian ([a-a]c[b-b]c, [d-d]f[e-e]f, [g-g]1[h-h]1, [j-j]1) extrapolation from “Roddenberry’s Couplet.”
  13. Unlucky ( ????????????? )

It is easy to conceive of the appropriate form to use given the idea one wishes to express.  So I must now pledge to continue in this way tomorrow wherein It may be easier to accomplish after some rest. : )