Tag Archives: Sonnet

I think I really must merge all my blogs into one.

Posted by David Emeron on

I say this because of the follow I received from the reference below.  And… because I feel it might make more sense in a logical and procedural way.

Considering the nature of my own site, this offering was most enjoyed. Although… I confess I feel most able to express myself in the strictest of forms such that I do not mind at all burdening such a form with additional constraints. You must judge for yourself if my words are elucidative or obfuscatory.

A word, then two, a fountain like a stream…

This is #5 in a sequence of seven (so far) oddly germane to this post of yours, which I very much enjoyed.
#6 of the same sequence features even more constraints as well as a generous helping of metaphor (given that my background is in the hard sciences) to which perusal of the entire sequence might offer some small illumination.

Of these seven, five are, as is the one above, in the (English version of the) Italian style, #4, as is yours above, in the Shakespearean style, and the one I mention, #6, is in a form which I call “reverse Spenserian,” a form of my own devising–although I may well not be the first to invent such a form. In any case, I have found that most sonnet forms reverse well, although in some cases, one needs to expand ones definition of reversal for such a thing to work.

via How Do You Sonnet? | The Poetry Question.

Related articles

The Viking Situation:

Posted by David Emeron on

Herein I attempt to link all the relevant posts wherever they may be:

  1. First: the location of the original exchange:  February 7th, 2013 at 4:03 am
  2. Next, the whole enchilada:  My first…
  3. Next, the introduction which you (kanzensakura) stumbled upon:  Where is Waldo?
  4. And the sonnet I wrote inspired by the whole exchange:  Sonnet:
  5. Finally, a note about the piece–titled referent to my research on the subject:   FYI

Now, after and, I think during the hole affair, there were even some very peculiar emails exchanged.  They seemed to appear in great heaps.  Those, however, I did not save, and had I saved them, I would not publish them here for ethical reasons–even if I chose to redact the identity of the author of these.

Related articles (only the first two are actually related, heh)

Sonnet: Stardate – 50419.1…

Posted by David Emeron on

My love has wings–slender, feathered things–
With grace in upswept curve and tapered tip,
My love would soar–swiftly to adore–
So twisting ever toward, and graceful skip.

So dances she–round and round to be–
Enrapt to bring us care, to bind us kept,
My love should know–you, my love, bestow–
Your Own, as did He dance and graceful stepped.

For now as wed… They–Our Love has said–
Would bear us swiftly hence as spectral ships;
So lovely They–So lighted, Their display–
That would illuminate our Earthly trips.

And lovely see–you and I–as We…
Take flight, as when I tasted first your lips.

  • once more for Gene.

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Intro: 1996

Posted by David Emeron on

Only natural,
That I should try this modern
Canopian form.

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Sonnet: His Nightingale Woman

Posted by David Emeron on

My Love hath wings–slender, feathered things–
With grace in upswept curve and tapered tip.
My Love doth soar–swiftly to adore–
So twisting ever toward, and graceful skip.

So danceth She–round and round to thee–
Enrapt to bring us care, to bind us kept.
My Love doth know–thou, my love, bestow–
Thine Own, as did He dance and graceful stept.

For now as wed… They–Our Love hath said–
Would bear us hence anon as spectral ships;
So lovely They–so lighted, Their display–
T’would ere illuminate our Earthly trips.

And lovely, we–Love and I, and thee–
Take flight, as once I tasted first thy lips.

  • For Gene Roddenberry:
    And, to his memory;
    Who, in all probability,
    And, so very long ago,
    Penned the first two lines.

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Intro: Gene Roddenberry

Posted by David Emeron on

Have now

I gone

To where

Before

No man

Hath gone

Rest thou

G R

In peace

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Sonnet: The Third Law

Posted by David Emeron on

When breaks the dawn again affirming day,
This iridescent treasure, doth the sun,
Come supplely spreading visions, doth the one
Who made it known in every spreading ray;

When, just as day began, its noble way
Can never be impeded. Neither shun,
That life itself hath once again begun;
That never will its paradox delay.

The measure of a a man shall always be
His motion, or determinicity;
His ever ready willingness, to shine
As will he, ever happiness to find.
For such is life, as such is ever light,
That finds its final triumph in the night.