Tag Archives: Sonnet

The Male Form…

Posted by David Emeron on

…as seen from my own point of view…

This sequence is posting at present is a celebration of The Male Form.  I believe it is complete as of this date–though one never really knows.  Its mirror image will post some time in the future.  As of this date, I still feel it to be an ongoing work, not having been rounded out, brought to cadence, &c.  There are possibly four more sonnets, give or take, in this distaff sequence.

One of the problems that I encounter with the writing of either sequence is that I can write endlessly on the subject of sensuality.  It is a subject on which I have thought in great detail and one which seems to me to possess an infinite number of facets.

I feel I would like to write more about the nature of such content, but I fear I would be misconstrued regardless.  I may do so at a later date at any case.  If I had more of an active readership, I could better compose such an essay as a reflection of whatever misconceptions crop up in the comment section–particularly in the members of the male sequence.  At this date, there are probably enough comments that it would be fairly easy to do this.  I am sure I would bore anyone to tears waxing infinite on such a subject.

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The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

Posted by David Emeron on

Just take a good look at Greece.  Modern, and ancient, for that matter.

In any event…  this is the face of insomnia, and partly why the sonnet project began in the first place.  I spend so much time awake while everyone else is asleep.

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Follow-Up on Teaching Sonnets | Wanderings in the Labyrinth

Posted by David Emeron on

A comment I wrote for a recent post caused me to revisit a few things and write the following comment; which once again, is a far too lengthy one  not to make of it a regular post.

I am at a loss to explain why you eschew iambic pentameter in your form exercise, as you say, “even if the poem makes no sense.” Although “One thing at a time” might be a guess at your answer–which certainly would make a degree of sense. Still the iambic rhythm is most definitely a thing to get ones head around.

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Same word rhymes:

Posted by David Emeron on

Sometimes they sound wrong; sometimes they sound right.  Does that about sum it up, so to speak?

I was reading over this sonnet recently reposted as one of a sequence of four.  In the third quatrain you will see:

But the Knights of the Copybook Headings
Show… that our apathy caused you to win;
We will never forget that beheadings,
Though… were the wages of this kind of sin.

I had originally changed this third rhyming word because of the identical or same word rhyme.  I realised after some time of reflection that it sounded fine the way it had been.  Why, I wondered, was that.  I believe the answer lies in the odd or feminine lines containing the duplicate word or sound.  This understanding opens up possibilities.  One has to do some thinking though regarding forms other than ABAB types, wherein the feminine lines are easily understood as such.  What about an Italian sonnet?

Hmmmm….   Does this not bear more thinking?

Sonnet: Favourites

Posted by David Emeron on

I set myself this task and then I’m free
To fly abroad to anywhere I choose;
With confidence, assisting in my prime
Companions’ search with nothing I might lose.

They might or mightn’t choose to let me be;
Though never doth their circumstance confuse
My only wish as yearns to take this time,
That this, a burden is, to disabuse.

And clearly, doth my love, to this degree,
Encompass all their lives, and to suffuse
Complex, with all its mystery, this crime
With eager resolution. Know I whose

Bleak life shall see enrichment that ensues?
‘Tis mine, so lifted, by this double muse.

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Sonnet: In Her Prime

Posted by David Emeron on

Doth, sylphidine, my poet walk the night.
Her nature, sybaritic; every wish
As spritely, and as sensuous a whim,
That, sibilant, depriveth of her sight;

The magic of her grace, her subtle flight.
Of flowery gifts, she writeth, she hath won;
Of sunsets, singeth she, luxuriant, warm;
And downy-cool, her mountaintops of white.

We shall, as loveth she, so never love;
Nor built we paradise, as hath she done.
Doth sleep our kingdom not upon the clouds,
Nor fortress, on such billows, dream above.
So vanquished she, as many, though but one;
She triumphed clear; yet had we only shrouds.

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How to Teach Writing Sonnets | Wanderings in the Labyrinth

Posted by David Emeron on

Although I am indeed able to write a sonnet in far less than 15 minutes, (I have written six months worth of these at least one per day, and) I find that typically I spend several hours on each one; although this may include research or additional constraints on the form. I could add a few more weapons to the arsenal of method, so to speak, that… Continue reading →