(no subject)
Aug. 28th, 2010 09:27 pmOne trouble with the sonnet, strictly writ
Is one a gardener would know quite well:
A weed that plants its roots in dirt and grit
And grows and spreads and thrives for garden's ill.
Infectious rhythm, cadence, pace of speech
Once channeled to the five feet of iamb
Keeps clinging where it's placed, quite like a leech
And cannot be controlled behind a dam.
Once loosed, the meter spreads beyond all bounds
And dooms the hopeless mind it's trapped within
Until all words, all thoughts, all ventured sounds
Must fit the rules, else be a mortal sin.
So I, brain gone from bad to worse,
Spent twenty minutes making lame-ass verse
Is one a gardener would know quite well:
A weed that plants its roots in dirt and grit
And grows and spreads and thrives for garden's ill.
Infectious rhythm, cadence, pace of speech
Once channeled to the five feet of iamb
Keeps clinging where it's placed, quite like a leech
And cannot be controlled behind a dam.
Once loosed, the meter spreads beyond all bounds
And dooms the hopeless mind it's trapped within
Until all words, all thoughts, all ventured sounds
Must fit the rules, else be a mortal sin.
So I, brain gone from bad to worse,
Spent twenty minutes making lame-ass verse
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Date: 2010-08-29 02:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-29 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-29 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-29 03:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-29 04:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-30 12:21 am (UTC)Know you Vikram Seth's novel in 600+ sonnets, The Golden Gate?