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Poems On / About SONNET  7/5/2015 4:04:43 PM
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  157.     

Operatic Omelette

I could write a sonnet
about what I just ate.
My lady's beautiful
omelette.
I may try operatic,
p'raps poetic,
that music of taste,
an omelette in travel
going from north to south
via my mouth.
No omelette going to waste,
a thing to revel,
my lady's a devil
when cooking that omeletting
thing.
So play it again
sonnet, operatic,
cooking poetic.
So pan out again,
do you ken.
 
George BernardBloodyShaw

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  158.     

Alankar (Decor) -12

What Sort Is He, Bitter Or Sweet....(sonnet-shakespearen style)

Shakespearean sonnet-
made up of 3 quatrains and ending in a rhymed couplet.
metric, written in iambic pentameter.
rhyme scheme is abab cdcd efef gg.


What sort is He, bitter or sweet to say
Pastime painter black and white, dark and bright
Alltime sadist by nature He His play
Pain or pleasure He seems be His pretext..

Ruing so dark a woman black she hued
Blighted a leaf as withers she shrivels
This day even ahead on stairs cultured
Accursed, a bad society she feels

And look, laughing pride yet another one
Glowing outside fair with conceit inside
This day that all wish for union one
Dispairs her fair skin dark on rungs down slide

Writhing in mind a worm hunting His sort
In vain blaming, praising, admits His sport
 
Indira Renganathan

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  159.     

A Poet And River

A stream I am struggling with tears,
Blocked on way mine by a boulder stone,
And wonder how to move on my own,
How to flow unhindered free from fears.

A poet I am singing my heart,
To heart cleave I and in heart believe,
To head’s devil my due still I give,
Two pillars and yet two poles apart!

An endless duel raging within,
What I wish to say be yon of words,
Words are all upon which I must lean,
Words and words, all wearing wings of birds,
A quenchless quench, dilemma of life,
There’s not but walking on edge of knife.
__________________________________________________
This piece uses a nine-syllabic (three feet) anapaest metre
unlike most sonnets that have ten-syllabic (five feet) iamb.
_________________________________________________________
- Sonnets | 21.08.14 |
 
Aniruddha Pathak

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  160.     

Once...

Once there was a page, with nothing on it,
So I took up my pen, and wrote a sonnet;
nothing special, but it rhymed,
and so I did it, one more time.

Poems are images that only I can see,
hope you can visualize as well as me;
it's written from the heart and soul,
afterward, I feel it makes me whole.

To set in rhyme the things I feel,
to others of a kind, it must reveal;
they're not alone upon this earth,
creating poems is actually giving birth.

The pregnancy is short and sweet,
as we put words upon the sheet;
to set our troubled minds at ease,
as we write as many as we please.

Once there was a page, with nothing on it,
so I sat at my P.C., and wrote a sonnet;
I tried to get my point of life across,
and if I didn't, it was my only loss.
 
David Lessard

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