challenge

olderman

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
He said, "I'll write an overview to show
a panorama of the lack of God
across an island; they will know me now
to be a poet-seer, one who'll plod
the boulevards and office blocks to make
my document on how the greed of man
stalks plastic satisfaction in the wake
of science. Shaming fakery's my plan."

You say, "And when your cupboard's bare and cold,
and when the lightbulb pops and flies are blind,
and when the mirror rots with spots of mould,
and when the broken window screams the wind,
Will you build, in 'challenging', a land,
a notion that the ones with money planned?"

This is awesome.. I am still reading this sonnet over and over and getting a different take each time..

i feel that the octet describes the cause of the poverty depicted in the sextet.. i will read the sonnet again..

Damn good mr. Fins!

ISN

Island Man

He said, "I'll write an overview to show
a panorama of the lack of God
across an island; they will know me now
to be a poet-seer, one who'll plod
the boulevards and office blocks to make
my document on how the greed of man
stalks plastic satisfaction in the wake
of science. Shaming fakery's my plan."

You say, "And when your cupboard's bare and cold,
and when the lightbulb pops and flies are blind,
and when the mirror rots with spots of mould,
and when the broken window screams the wind,
Will you build, in 'challenging', a land,
a notion that the ones with money planned?"

a great poem.....(I hope the answer is 'yes')

thanks for the link Finsbury, I always get Lir mixed up with Leda....

I'll post a link to a picture of a beautiful swan I saw in Cambridge or Oxford - can't remember which.....but think it was Cambridge

FinsburyParkCarrots

Oh no, the answer's no! Deconstruct the notion of the land, don't bolster it by pretending to review it!

FinsburyParkCarrots

As usual, I'll donate a sonnet as I take it en route to the Nun.

Get ready for the weekly pack of lies:
"Najaf is back in Government command."
Then, watch the news reports: A lad defies
the camera, gun held aloft in hand,
the temple's golden dome behind him. Some
older men behind him stare at length
upon the lens, some seated, quite at home
to show resistance in a quiet strength.

It was just the same in Saddam's time:
"We have the situation in control."
Control? That's dreams of temples splashed in grime
from bodies ripped apart in dust. 'Extol
the moral highground as you brutalise';
that's their motto there. Bring on the lies.

FinsburyParkCarrots

Well, here's another version, more "universal", as it were.

In a Free State

Get ready for the weekly pack of lies:
"The town is back in Government command."
Then, watch the news reports: A lad defies
the camera, extending knuckled hand,
the Governmental Hall behind him. Some
older men behind him stare at length
upon the lens, some seated, quite at home
to show resistance in a quiet strength.

The last regime too, claimed, in pre-war time:
"We have the situation in control."
Control? A dream in alleyways of grime
To claim a thoroughfare of dust? 'Extol
the moral highground as you brutalise':
That was the plan that failed. Now? More lies.

ruby

They laid you to rest on that stinking hot day
The mourners all gathered; black-clad, like crows
beaks protruding, heads moving quickly, this then that way
'Tis irony, hypocrisy, but death draws friends out from foes.
What would you have said, dear man,
had that moment been made yours to speak?
You would sit quiet, I'm certain
and then gently chastise me for straying so far from meek.

That glorious black crest of hair resurrected
you shine once again, somewhere far, I can't reach you
But here on earth you leave wisdom and love, unaffected
by time immemorial, space, recollections, too
many to count on my fingers. Please leave a space for me
I'll be bringing the ashtray and one endless more bottle
for the day we'll all be free
when the time comes, I'll be running full throttle!

ruby

p.s please don't anyone laugh aloud. It's been sixteen years since the last time I tried to write anything. And please excuse the extra two lines.

ISN

on the contrary.....:)

Looking out the door I see the rain fall upon a field of mourners
parading in the wake of sad relations
as their shoes fill up with water
maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
but tonight you're on my mind so....you'll never know

Jeff Buckley.....Lover, you should've come.....

olderman

Originally posted by ruby
They laid you to rest on that stinking hot day
The mourners all gathered; black-clad, like crows
beaks protruding, heads moving quickly, this then that way
'Tis irony, hypocrisy, but death draws friends out from foes.
What would you have said, dear man,
had that moment been made yours to speak?
You would sit quiet, I'm certain
and then gently chastise me for straying so far from meek.

That glorious black crest of hair resurrected
you shine once again, somewhere far, I can't reach you
But here on earth you leave wisdom and love, unaffected
by time immemorial, space, recollections, too
many to count on my fingers. Please leave a space for me
I'll be bringing the ashtray and one endless more bottle
for the day we'll all be free
when the time comes, I'll be running full throttle!

no need to say you're sorry when you write a good poem!!

thanks!

ruby

Thank you (You're very kind, thank you for the 'challenge'.)

FinsburyParkCarrots

It was great, Ruby. And don't worry about the extra two lines. Many sonnets deviate from the norm. For example, Shakespeare's Sonnet 126 has only twelve lines (whether by accident or design, no-one knows); Sonnet 145 is written in iambic tetrameter (four feet), not pentameter at all. I think Tony Harrison has written sixteen line sonnet-type poems also.

ruby

Thank you, Mr Finsbury. It is very good to know that I am (undeservingly so) in such very fine company .

ISN

come off it ruby....your Mrs Neave defines something.....that something is relief.....and it's defined now.....let's all sigh.....keep posting please.....:)

BlackSin

Originally posted by olderman
i walked upon the eastern shore with sand
hot between my toes as the salt filled air
filled my senses, consumed me with her hand
her touch was soft like dream whipped cream tis fair
she sang of love and weather in love's grasp
neither hides amongst rocks along the reef
nor washes to shore in clumps of sea grass
yet must be found for these are my belief -

while love's box is replete - songs of merry days,
the beach is a good walk for remembrance
of love in the past, so much is sweet lust
bring on the surf and the sharp sting of rays
from the jelly fish, whose transluscence
invades my senses, yet, for now, i trust

Smooth are the verses, as well as their flow... Pretty nice...

Awsome thread, beautiful sonnets... Keep on rocking you guys

ExTReMe FrEAk

He had gone to the wild to settle his mind
For days and nights, growing wise to the way
With never a thought, what he left behind
Resting his mind, from his path he won’t stray
Shadows wrap around him entirely
He’s charmed the night to accompany him
Light strains snap a thought, you should cry for me
The trees respond, For you, we bow our limbs

Their leaves had fell, as they wept for the night
The winds then chilled, leaving tears on the ground
The man then was covered in a bright white
Radiance so bright, life sprang all around
As all the seasons all come and then go
This man takes their lives, to help them grow

ISN

pic of swan in Cambridge....a bit slow....

http://www.maps.kaoshq.com/ALLmaps/Swan.jpg



taken about 1990.....

FinsburyParkCarrots

I know where that photo was taken: Near Magdalene Bridge in the centre of the city. The next bridge down from this scene, just a few yards away, is Jesus Green footbridge, from which Nick Drake is reputed to have conceived his song "Riverman".

olderman

hot grilled brats laid upon buns with mustard
spread over the tops as ice cold beers' flow,
sun baked grilling chefs, jolly, laughing hard,
young women show their beauty, don't you know?
the lot at arrowhead will jump tonite,
from grills delicious smoke will form a cloud,
colorful reds and golds, all is just right,
the din will rise, those voices will be loud-

just before kickoff, time for "start me up",
roars of approval from the well fed throng,
one more sausage, one more lager to swill,
the teams crash the scene with helmets, hold your cup
lest it spill on the pretty lady's sarong,
nice nite for football, embers glow the grill

(for those not familiar with the National Football League, the Kansas City Chiefs are playing a pre-season game tonite at Arrowhead Stadium in KC and the team's colors are red and gold)

FinsburyParkCarrots

As It Was in the Beginning, Is Now and Ever Shall Be,
World Without End (On The Whitehill Road Allotment Site)

Light planes toot and parp up in the top-
heavy Cambridge sky, above fen drills
of cabbages and carrots (tops aflop,
protruding from allotment soil in spills
of leaf curls, wind-a-bob); on this site
of little sheds, ten early morning men
dig new potato furrows. Slow, a kite
flies up from Coldham's Common now and then.

But in the next-door Abbey Stadium
a ball is being booted, echoes ranging
into halls of blue sky. Here's the drum
of Saturday momentum-building, banging.
All these men will down their forks, and soon
they'll line to catch the match this afternoon.

ExTReMe FrEAk

I have not seen any Petrarchan Spenserian sonnets around... only shakespearean... shall I make some?

Here are there forms

Petrarchan sonnet, abbaabba+(cdecde, cdccdc, or cdedce)
Shakespearean sonnet, abab+bcvc+cdcd+ee
Spenserian sonnet, abab+bcbc+cdcd+ee

The last 6 lines of the Petrarchan needs to be resolution, revalation, or at the least it should bring closure.