Sonnet 6

I like this sonnet. Not because it's the best use of the format, (though better than the previous example), but because it was fun to write, and I think has a fun theme. I get a little bit "meta" as they say, and mention poetry within the poem.

I've placed the volta in line nine this time, as it seemed to fit with the nature of the piece. It's not the most pronounced shift in tone, but it's there, it works, and as I said already, I enjoyed it.

***

I thought it was a mediocre verse

When first I came across it in a book.

Though many poems I have read are worse,

I did not give this one another look.

The words that move one man may bore the rest.

"To each his own," and all such platitudes. 

The doggerel of  some may prove the best

To other men with other attitudes.

And then the lady that I long to hold,

In casual discussion said to me

The very poem that had left me cold

Had always given her serenity.

So though it may have come to me too late,

I love the pretty verse I used to hate.

Sonnet 5

Many consenting people are kept apart not by the law, but by social norms that weigh heavily on them. This sonnet touches on some of that.

I like some of the lines, but overall I'm not satisfied with this one. I had to abandon iambic pentameter in several lines, for starters. Strictly speaking people write sonnets without it all the time, and I perhaps will intentionally during this exploration. But for now I was hoping to stick with iambic pentameter more consistently than I was able to with this one.

I also had to fall back on some common rhymes. They can't all be unique of course, but a few are a bit like plain white bread in the poetry world and I had to resort to a few of them.

I enjoyed the theme of this one, and had committed to it by the time these problem arose, so I didn't abandon it, and I put up the finished product here for you all to read and perhaps enjoy. But I had to be a bit patchy here and there. Still, not a bad effort, I suppose.

***

Oh take away the multitude of years.
Make insignificant our gap in age.
Ignore the condemnation of our peers.
For love, chronology can be no gauge.
Mere quantity of birthdays cannot be
A reasonable metric for the heart.
Be willing to accept the gift of me.
Why must it matter when my life did start?
If any love for me resides in you,
Let me rest my head upon your shoulder.
When you need comfort, I'll provide it too.
Please don't walk away because I'm older.
I need to let you be the age you are,
And I for now will love you from afar.

Sonnet 4

It's early, but this sonnet is probably the one I like the most so far in this exploration. Not perfect, but closest to what I feel the purpose and structure of these sonnets should be, strictly speaking.


***

I know a love that never can be seen.
The love I bare for her, and she for me.
Invisible devotion lies between
The two of us. Like islands and the sea.
The home and family with which she stands
And I cocooned within my loneliness
Unable to fulfill all love's demands.
Unwilling to acknowledge or confess.
I'll never hear her say "Forever yours."
Nor will I hear myself reply in kind.
I am the one I know that she adores,
Yet both of us pretend that we are blind.
Still, when she signs a note with my pet name
I feel as though we're married all the same.

Sonnet 3

Unlike some other forms of poetry, writing the sonnet, or at least in the proper fashion I am attempting, requires quiet time, free from most other distractions. It is a time consuming form which goes better for me when I set aside specific time to work on it. (Unlike say, haiku, which I can sometimes compose in spare minutes here and there, or with the TV muted during a commercial break.) Setting aside time to write a sonnet isn't always practical, but it is worth it when I do so. This makes me think I should put in the extra effort to do so for the rest of this exploration.

This sonnet came about during one such allocated block of time last week.

A deep conviction keeps your love at bay.
A passion we can never consummate.
I have no proof, but think that you would say
"It's not God's will." And I would say "It's Fate."
Dichotomy of faiths have often barred
What otherwise would yield a love sublime.
Esteem for one another would be scarred;
Sincerity would wound us in due time.
That within you which my heart would claim,
(The things I sense that you would freely give)
Would spark a conflagration all the same,
Destroying everything for which we live.
Though there are things we must not sacrifice,
The knowledge that we long to will suffice.