no more to come by two and two
the ark was filled from stern to bow
God closed the door of this first zoo
with chicken, pig, and horse and cow
the waters came from spring and cloud
until the earth was one vast lake
the storm was fierce, the thunder loud
on lion, elephant and snake
Ten humans only still had breath:
old Noah and his tiny clan
while on the earth below was death
for every child, woman, man
and while a few in safety slept
God looked upon the world – and wept
can it still be called a sonnet if it lacks of fourteen lines, yet has one-hundred-forty syllables? And if the words fit within a prescribed rhyme scheme, so instead of counting lines, syllables were counted and then multiples of ten were all rhymed and broken into lines they amounted to Elizebethan form or they mimed the schemes of Petrarch or Spencer?
Can you call it a sonnet if it reads more like prose than poem, but it still adheres to a few of the rules? Is it a sonnet? Who knows!
Count my syllables, and after each ten, make a line break. Is it a sonnet then?
The above is my experiment in what I would like to call a “prose sonnet”. My idea with this is to do with the sonnet what Allen Ginsberg did to the haiku with his “American Sentence”. If you do count the syllables in my piece, you will find (unless I miscounted), that syllables with a multiple of 10 are rhymed ABAB,CDCD,EFEF,GG as would be the case in an Elizebethan sonnet.
I’m posting this to dVerse, for Open Link Night. Please do go visit, and read the works of some rather fabulous poets! (This also responds to Bjorn’s Tuesday prompt to write a poem in questions)
One by one we bid each other goodbye.
There are the hugs given to friends who are
heading to the airport from where they’ll fly
to some resort. They never seem too far
away, as we know that they’ll soon be back.
Harder, though, are those final farewells, said
to loved ones who have stepped beyond the crack
that separates this world from the next. Red
eyed from grief, it might be tempting to think
we’d be better off if we didn’t bare
our souls to that most temporary link
called friendship, and yet, how sad not to dare!
for though each life like each flame one day ends
we’re richer for the time we’ve spent with friends
for dVerse Open Link Night
The whole cycle, thus far, can be found if you click on the link for “The Elements – Sonnet Cycles” at the top of this page, and then select “fire”
It was over a year ago that I posted part IX of this cycle, so if you need some context, click on “The Elements – Sonnet Cycles” at the top of this page, and then select “fire” (or select “water” if you would like to read a cycle that has actually been completed) . Needless to say, this installment is drastically overdue.
Around the circle a silence descends.
There’s a feeling, sensed by all, that soon
this joyous time celebrated with friends
must draw to a close. Someone strums a tune
softly on a guitar. A soothing song:
perhaps to the flames, or maybe to those
with whom you would now gladly carry on
(though strangers an hour ago). Who knows
why the fire works in this way: to draw
people together from stranger to friend?
Perhaps, though, this circle has its own flaw:
we are reluctant to let the time end.
And so, it is with a most heartfelt sigh
One by one we bid each other goodbye
Sharing with dVerse for Open Link Night
You are quiet
Your voice I hear not
And in silence I suffer
Longing to hear you once again
O why do you keep your lips pressed closed
When I am drowning in the quiet
And a word from you would be
Breath in my lungs to sustain me?
It is not so much your reticence that
Has doomed me to suffer this disquieting quiet
But my own foolishness
For when you have spoken I have not been keen to listen
Release me from this hostile peace
And I will open my ears to hear
a free verse sonnet for dVerse
I wonder if you’d open up your door
if you already knew it was a ploy:
that he who knocks loves very little more
than doing things to break and to destroy?
for surely while your door is open wide
his henchmen use the moments that you stand
bewildered by the door to come inside
a window or the back door as they’d planned
or would you go and check your locks to see
that all your doors and windows are secure
and you would do all that you can to be
as safe as you can be, I’m pretty sure!
The Devil knocks to tempt each one to sin
why do we open up to let him in?
Based loosely on John 10:10
how is it that you even dare to teach
to me of things that I already know
you speak of things that far exceed your reach
and think there is no need for you to grow
I do not need to hear you condescend
that’s why I crushed you down beneath my feet
and ground my heel so that you could not mend
the silence that I hear from you is sweet
I never deigned to teach to you of slime
there was no need to speak of what you knew
for that is where you spent all of your time
in sun, in rain, in snow, in sleet, in dew
oh condescending worm you are a bore
and so I’ll hear you speak to me no more
note: this poem might not be about a worm.
sharing with dVerse for OLN.
and in case you are wondering, yes, there was a Part 1 – posted about a year ago https://quest4peas.wordpress.com/2016/06/22/condescending-worm/