…once again, rain! And, a concept in which one so often engages when one writes music. This concept is that of a “pickup beat.” Continue reading
This was very nice. I thought I’d write a sonnet from this–I do love the outer reaches so.
…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. Continue reading
…even single ones, that require so much thought, that it is far less painful to work on them a little at a time. Works such as this one take at least a few days of thinking upon. I would revisit the draft at least once per day, type a note or two, or a phrase I thought was usable. Anything that occurs between periods of sleep is always easier. It just comes together almost like magic all of a sudden. Continue reading
…left me the most beautiful thing on my Xerex sequence. I really thought it the fitting and most perfect end and answer to the thing. So beautiful. So now the sequence has seven sonnets. It sounds to me together like wedding bells and wedding vows and honeymoons and love everlasting.
And … what am I to do now with the order of things. Should I move the whole Xerex sequence–all seven brothers–up to the front to be with its sister? Something along those lines will have to be done, I think.
…as I found out this morning. I had forgotten to give its default title of “Sonnet” and so I noticed. “Oh my there is a post called ‘1914.” I don’t recall making that one! I wonder what it is?!?!?!?”
So I decided that since it named itself, I’d honor its choice of name. So… “Sonnet: 1914” it is!!!
I think now, that I would like it very much if my sweetheart were to suggest names for some of these unnamed sonnets that I might add in. And perhaps I’ll ask some of you to suggest some? That might be fun!
I have long thought that something happened to art–not just poetry, but all art–somewhere between the late 1890s to 1920. Continue reading