This is written as a collaboration with Nepenthes without whom this beast would never have been hatched and nourished.
We're fracturing this sonnet just for fun.
Poor Shakespeare. He will never be the same.
The Bard of Avon sang of songs unsung.
Not us (oh, no), for we are quite insane.
We sing of songless birds that flightless run
of famous actors – no one knows their name –
of rhythmic lines with choking trochees hung
and disappearing things that still remain.
You see, we are not satisfied with laws.
The surface of a sonnet's just the skin.
We must dig deeper, find a new "voila!"
With which to scratch our pens, and find a grin.
If this is verse than yours, then drink a beer,
thence cry a smile, shed a sonnet-tear.
Sonnet by NotaDeadPoet
Read 626 times
Written on 2007-02-04 at 07:47
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A Sonneteer's Lament
We're fracturing this sonnet just for fun.
Poor Shakespeare. He will never be the same.
The Bard of Avon sang of songs unsung.
Not us (oh, no), for we are quite insane.
We sing of songless birds that flightless run
of famous actors – no one knows their name –
of rhythmic lines with choking trochees hung
and disappearing things that still remain.
You see, we are not satisfied with laws.
The surface of a sonnet's just the skin.
We must dig deeper, find a new "voila!"
With which to scratch our pens, and find a grin.
If this is verse than yours, then drink a beer,
thence cry a smile, shed a sonnet-tear.
Sonnet by NotaDeadPoet
Read 626 times
Written on 2007-02-04 at 07:47
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Rob Graber |
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kath |
