Showing posts with label sonnet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sonnet. Show all posts

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Happy 2016 - time to break out the structured poems again?

The New Year is always time for resolutions, even when they're resolutions not to have any New Year resolutions.
 
I'm keen to keep up the blogging, but write fewer poems, while reintroducing a few more structured poems, especially poems around special events. 

Maybe I'll even manage a New Year sonnet, or even maybe a Christmas one. There's something about the constraints on old fashioned poetry that, as a poet, I think are worthwhile pursuing. In the meantime, This Year of Fire, is as good a New Year poem as any, it's a near-traditional sonnet, although it's very dark. I admit, I really wasn't sure about it at first, but it's grown on me. And I think that's always a good sign with poetry - since it's considered a good sign for music and other art forms!!!


Anyway, Happy New Year everybody, best wishes to everyone who follows this blog, and a sad final farewell to 2015, and of course the Tuesday Poem, which was the impetus to me blogging most Tuesdays, although I do hope to keep that up in 2016 and beyond.

cheers to you, my readers, and to the New Year, may it be a good one.

A.J. 
Author of Quest, Prophecy, Omens, Miss Lionheart and the Laboratory of Death, Wizard's Guide to Wellington, Attack of the Giant Bugs - a You Choose Science Adventure, and The Frankie Files

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi   And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024

 

 
 

 


Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Tuesday Poem: How do I love thee? (Sonnet 43, 1845) Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861

Another poem from Elizabeth Barrett Browning, campaigner for human rights - including the abolition of slavery and improving child labour laws. The first poem I posted of hers is The Cry of the Children, a truly remarkable piece showing the horror of the conditions many children faced at the time, while retaining a lyricism and beauty around the core of unease.

On the other hand this is a love poem, with an inner core of strength, and a sense of the inevitable, possibly obtained from having battled illness most of her life.

Enjoy!


How do I love thee? (Sonnet 43, 1845)  Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.



For more great poetry, check out the Tuesday poem hub here.








Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Tuesday Poem: Ahi Kā by A.J. Ponder and Eileen Mueller




Ahi Kā
(Prose and interwoven sonnet, Truth Lies in Fire and Dies in Flame)
Winning entry (first equal) in NZSA NorthWrite 2013 Collaboration Contest
By Eileen Mueller and A.J. Ponder

Howls pierced the fog of my dreams. I clutched Ahi, shaking her awake. “Are they real?” Yowling wound through my ear canals, ricocheting inside my head. “The dogs, Ahi, can you hear them?”
She woke, startled. “Hurry, Manaaki. They’re coming.”
We scrambled out of our bush-clad hideout, dashing up the hillside, sliding in the damp earth, ponga fronds whipping our faces.
Frenzied yelps closed in on us. The creatures’ vicious snarling drowned our laboured breathing.
Blue eyes pursued us, hot gas flames in the dark.
Were they real?
I yanked my meds from my pocket. Pills scattered in the dirt. I scrabbled for them. One stuck in my throat before sliding down.
#
Cry havoc and let us unloose the dogs
the dogs, let slip those hellish brutes of war
for tonight Manaaki will have to choose
to run—
#
“Hellhounds,” Ahi yelled, bounding up the mud and crumbling rock.
Menacing growls raced through the underbrush. Ahi yanked a nail from her fingertip. It flared to light, illuminating the black-hackled beast leaping towards us.
“Ahi?” In all our time together, her fingernails had never exploded into fireballs. I stared at her and swallowed another pill, tasting dirt.
The hound, with pain-stricken yelps, was devoured by flame. Wild baying echoed in the valley below. More hellhounds.
Ahi stood, fingertip bleeding. Her hand, with only four nails, reached out. Warm blood sticky in my palm, she yanked me uphill.
Had my medication stopped working?
To be sure, I gulped another down.
#
Laugh in the shade of the slavering beast
let fire light his eyes and make death tame
the boy is mad
#
 The hellhounds thundered behind us. Racing through the darkness, we tripped, smashing our knees on jutting rocks.
I gagged on the stench of the hounds’ hot breath. They snapped at our heelsand bit deep. I screamed.
Ahi ripped off another nail, flinging it over her shoulder. The beast yelped and fled, trailing flames.
Fingers spraying glistening blood in the flame-light, Ahi aimed nail after nail at the perilous beasts, until only two nails remained.
#
The boy is mad to thwart this hunter’s feast
the dirt he tastes will never bear his name
and yet he stops and turns—
#
Ahi flung her penultimate nail through snarling fangs.
The beast combusted. Singed fur and burning flesh. A pale demon loomed behind the hellhound’s flaming carcass. Worse than hellhounds. Worse than my lover-turned-stranger beside me, oozing blood from her torn fingertips. Worse than hallucinations.
I screamed.
Ahi smiled through her blood and tears. She tore the final fingernail from her hand and pressed it into mine. “Swallow this,” she whispered.
#


Truth Lies in Fire and Dies in Flame

Cry havoc and let us unloose the dogs
the dogs, let slip those hellish brutes of war
for tonight Manaaki will have to choose
to run through fire and flame or face the maw

Laugh in the shade of the slavering beast
Let fire light his eyes and make death tame
The boy is mad to thwart this hunter’s feast
The dirt he tastes will never bear his name

And yet he stops and turns, his wild fear tame
Ahi Kā, Manaaki keep the home fires burning
In blood and fire—with life he stakes his claim
Ahi Kā, let us stand where he is standing

Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds;
But burn those who chase Manaaki out of bounds

Story and sonnet A.J. Ponder and Eileen Mueller

I hope you enjoyed this foray into literary fantasy,

cheers,  
A.J. Ponder

You can find A.J. Ponder at:


Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Running away with a Christmas Sonnet



Go kiss your prince below the mistletoe
And hang those stockings high above the hearth
For Christmas is the one day you can show
The greatest love of all and peace on earth

Still, I wish you would take your Christmas cheer,
Pack the day with bows and loving care
And bundle it so far away from here
And don't you mention Grinches, don’t you dare.

For while the thought of presents makes some sing
And has the children dancing round the tree
Christmas makes me wish more than anything
That I could wash my hands and be set free-

Just wander off, enjoy the sunny beach
forget the rules, and
lie
in the
sun-drenched
sand.



And that was the plan this Christmas.  No stress.  Go to the beach.  

Yeah right.

ok the picture isn't of sun drenched sand,  - but that fin in the water is an orca whale :)




Anyway Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and all that, love to see you in the New Year.

A.J. Ponder 

If you love sonnets and want to read some more "This Year of Fire"  and "Sonnet to the Muse" are fun, and if you want to learn how to write a sonnet The The Poetically Incorrect English Sonnet is there to help (watch out for the bad language though!

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores And 

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

A Sonnet to the Muse

Shall I compare thee, or shall I just write
Oh my demon, summer died as you drove
A plague of words
As black and dark as night
Through my heart and through my head.  Words you wove -

Yes you did - with a tongue so slick and sweet
My world held neither shadows nor delight
Nought but bloody threads
Spilling your own neat
Hell upon darkened pages of my life

But my torment is not your tapestry of text
Nor ink-smudged tears dried long upon my face
Tis but the fear that
You will set me free -
So let dead summers sink without a trace

Let words plague every corner, every part

My demon stitch the small world of my heart.



Much as I adore simplicity, there is no way I could compete with Helen's poem, Truths, so I thought why not go to the other extreme!  Everyone should have a go at writing a sonnet, with the reversal et al. at some stage of their life. One could say this sonnet is a little more textured than a traditional sonnet, but only a little, and it was great fun to write. 

A..J. Ponder 

Also, if you love sonnets and want to read some more "This Year of Fire"  and "Running Away with a Christmas Sonnet" are fun, and if you want to learn how to write a sonnet The The Poetically Incorrect English Sonnet is there to help (watch out for the bad language though!