Sonnet V: (free form)

if i did not

describe my heart
how it yearns for you
how it quickens
at every sight of you
every instant
when i first
hear your voice

if i did not

write of how it races when you come near that it has

skipped when you have touched me
that it Pounds
with the Ex-
-pecTation
of your Touch
every Beat
so Hard
that it Shakes
my Body
eNough
for You
to See

if i chose

to keep the secret
of its quiet
rhythm
in the morning
when i wake
how long
i have lain
quietly
amazed
as our hearts
beat
in perfect
synchrony
that
i wondered
how many
minutes
would pass
before
their rhythms
diverged

every word withheld
as i lay down my pen
and lock it away
with its barren white sheets

if i swore

not to describe
my heart
would it
stop beating
forever

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Sonnet IV: (verbs)

If I…

  1. did not
    describe my heart, how it
    yearns for you, how it
  2. quickens at every
    sight of you, every instant when I first
    hear your voice, if I
  3. did not
    write of how it
    races when you
  4. come near, that it
    has
    skipped when you
  5. have
    touched me, that it
    pounds with the
  6. expectation of your
    touch, every
    beat so hard that it
  7. shakes my body enough for you to
    see, if I
    chose to
  8. keep the secret of its quiet rhythm in the morning when I
    wake, how long I
    have
  9. lain, quietly
    amazed as our hearts
    beat in perfect
  10. synchrony, that I
    wondered how many minutes
    would
  11. pass before their rhythms
    diverged, every word
    withheld as I
  12. lay down my pen and
    lock it
    away with its barren white sheets, if I
  13. swore not to
    describe my heart,
    would it
  14. stop
    beating
    forever?

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Part 4: (verbs)

I thought the following would be an interesting form of analysis.  What would happen, I wondered, if I picked out all or most of the verb/verb-like structures and began each line with them?  How many would there be, and what form would begin to unfold?  Strangely Triadic line more or less suggests itself.  Not of the form I originally showed but still this exercise generates 14 verses, and it might start to become clear that I tend to subconsciously “think in sonnets.”  I wasn’t aware originally that some of these types of patterns would arise, but it seems as though they have.

Have a look and see if this helps you understand the words any better.  What does one think of when one sees such lines?  It is curious that many of the lines appear to look and sound like a certain variety of 20 century poetry; wherein one often sees lines beginning and ending in odd spots–possibly to create tension, and possibly for some other reason–or even no reason at all.

Sonnet III: (triadic line)

If I did not describe my heart
how it yearns for you how it
quickens at every sight of you

every instant when I first hear
your voice if I did not write of
how it races when you come near

that it has skipped when you
have touched me that it pounds
with the expectation of your

touch every beat so hard that it
shakes my body enough for you
to see if I chose to keep the

secret of its quiet rhythm in
the morning when I wake how long
I have lain quietly amazed as our

hearts beat in perfect synchrony
that I wondered how many minutes
would pass before their rhythms

diverged every word withheld as
I lay down my pen and lock it
away with its barren white sheets

if I swore not to describe my
heart would it stop beating
forever?

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Sonnet II: (freeverse)

If I did not describe my heart how it yearns for you
how it quickens at every sight of you every instant
when I first hear your voice if I did not write of how
it races when you come near that it has skipped

when you have touched me that it pounds with the
expectation of your touch every beat so hard that
it shakes my body enough for you to see if I chose
to keep the secret of its quiet rhythm in the morning

when I wake how long I have lain quietly amazed as
our hearts beat in perfect synchrony that I wondered
how many minutes would pass before their rhythms
diverged every word withheld as I lay down my pen and

lock it away with its barren white sheets if I swore
not to describe my heart would it stop beating forever?

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: