Sonnet World

My last post featured an original Elizabethan sonnet, sometimes called a "Shakespearean Sonnet," because Shakespeare perfected the form.

It is a 14-line poem with a rhyme scheme of

A
B
A
B

C
D
C
D

E
F
E
F
G
G

The lines are written in iambic pentameter, meaning 5 metric feet, meaning ten syllables with stresses on the even syllables: da-DUH, da-DUH, da-DUH, da-DUH, da-DUH. Of course, even the Master Bard sometimes used 9 syllables, or 11, 12 ... and sometimes the stresses aren't really iambs. Consider my first line in the previous sonnet:

I woke up this morning without a head.

It wouldn't actually be read as:

I WOKE up THIS morNING withOUT a HEAD.

It would be naturally read as:

I WOKE up the MORNing without a HEAD.

But by and large, iambic pentameter rules the day.

Often, the first 8 lines in a sonnet present a problem. The next four lines either hint at a solution, enlarge or narrow the problem, or provide some sort of twist. The last two lines are usually a "summing up."

You don't see true sonnets much anymore. One reason why most of my sonnets are goofy is that it's hard to pull off a serious sonnet these days without sounding archaic, melodramatic, or trite. Here's another original:

Who is the heartless soul who stole my shoes?
And boots and slippers and flip-flops and socks?
The thief took my magnetic insoles, too,
So my bare feet must tread on dirt and rocks.
What kind of man would do a thing like this
(Or woman - whichever the case may be)?
When I wore footwear, I was in sheer bliss;
But now I'm quite a sorry sight to see.
Well, I could let this get me down, it's true --
And dwell on the ignoble state I'm in.
But no! I will not let it make me blue!
I will rise, and triumph in the end.
I'll scrape and save and earn what'ere I can,
And buy my feet some footwear once again.