Poetry competition CLOSED 11th July 2016 9:09pm
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNERS-UP:
Hepcat61
and MayRayn
Can you write a sonnet?
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
I will judge the entries based on both mastery of the form -- let's concentrate on the English and Italian versions -- and intelligent deviation from the form. Any subject matter is welcome.
I will gently critique the entries and others are encouraged to do so as well. I'm putting a one month limit on the competition because it may take some time to write a sonnet if you are unfamiliar with how it works. A basic description of the form may be found here: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/sonnet.html
In addition, a good sonnet has a volta:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volta_(literature)#Sonnets
I hope I get a few takers on this.
In addition, a good sonnet has a volta:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volta_(literature)#Sonnets
I hope I get a few takers on this.
Anonymous
Can it be in Italian?
Anonymous
I don't see why not, but the critique you get from me may be somewhat superficial as a result. Do we have other Italian speakers here?
Anonymous
Hepcat61 said:OLD TOM AND THE TIGER
(a nursery sonnet - English)
The tiger knew no cage but “habitat”
She was the queen of her half-block domain
She’d rest in summer shade like any cat
But then would come the cold mid-winter rain
Old Tom, would lounge as well and watch her stalk
As she would pace and watch the humans stare
Old Tom would stride and match her walk for walk
And she would smile to watch his strutting there
But with the rain his queen would barely stir
These frigid rains that made her feel so sick,
So lost, then came a rustle in her fur
It was Old Tom with nip and tug and lick
Old Tom would stay and play with her awhile
He always seemed to prod his tiger’s smile
Iambic pentameter -- check.
English sonnet rhyme scheme -- check.
Volta -- I have some reservations about this. There is a sort of turn at the ninth line, where the regal tigress seems to be laid low by the weather. Is there a metaphor in this? Because if it is just a story about cats, then I miss the conceptual "zing" that I expect from the "turn" in a good sonnet. I know you qualify it by calling it a "nursery sonnet"; could you explain what that means to you?
(a nursery sonnet - English)
The tiger knew no cage but “habitat”
She was the queen of her half-block domain
She’d rest in summer shade like any cat
But then would come the cold mid-winter rain
Old Tom, would lounge as well and watch her stalk
As she would pace and watch the humans stare
Old Tom would stride and match her walk for walk
And she would smile to watch his strutting there
But with the rain his queen would barely stir
These frigid rains that made her feel so sick,
So lost, then came a rustle in her fur
It was Old Tom with nip and tug and lick
Old Tom would stay and play with her awhile
He always seemed to prod his tiger’s smile
Iambic pentameter -- check.
English sonnet rhyme scheme -- check.
Volta -- I have some reservations about this. There is a sort of turn at the ninth line, where the regal tigress seems to be laid low by the weather. Is there a metaphor in this? Because if it is just a story about cats, then I miss the conceptual "zing" that I expect from the "turn" in a good sonnet. I know you qualify it by calling it a "nursery sonnet"; could you explain what that means to you?
Anonymous
Jade-Pandora said:RAIN GARDEN
(a double English Sonnet)
The petals of her flowers bloom as red,
To show the depth of her undying gift.
With flowing silver rivulets, it's said,
The ringlets of her tresses breezes shift.
These flowers that are rare and seldom picked
Will bloom when each full moon is in its phase.
Its waxing dappled light among them mixed,
That gives to them their eerie, ghostly haze.
Then waves of rushing showers' piercing flight,
As clouds surround to summon thunder's clap.
Till once again returning comes the night,
To hide away its plunder's seep and pap.
Embracing her bespangled rain adorn
Brings scent to stir a love she's always worn.
She runs her fingers through the dampened grade,
Her roots to drink the deluge from the storm.
The gard'ner, who is near, lays down his spade,
And 'neath a leafy refuge is reborn.
So from cocoon begets the arc of life,
More intimate, more than our minds can hold.
Stone gods the ancients did immortalize,
And still the trees of worship to behold.
To reach and then embrace her grace and such
In Flora's and in Fauna's harmony.
While evermore will Nature bring her touch
On planet, star, and universe to be.
Let order even now her force restore;
In time evolve the way things were before.
The rhyme and meter are all good. There are some lovely lines:
"Its waxing dappled light among them mixed" -- great assonance and consonance
"As clouds surround to summon thunder's clap" -- ditto
However, there are some awkward lines as well:
"The ringlets of her tresses breezes shift. " -- having "tresses" and "breezes" in succession is confusing. I take it that the breezes are shifting the ringlets of the tresses?
"Embracing her bespangled rain adorn
Brings scent to stir a love she's always worn" -- what is the role of "adorn" here? It's a verb, but I'm not seeing a subject that corresponds to it. It seems like a superfluous word in the sentence.
"So from cocoon begets the arc of life" -- "begets" is a transitive verb. What is the arc of life begetting?
"While evermore will Nature bring her touch
On planet, star, and universe to be." -- hmmm.. "to be"? Does that mean that we have some things which will eventually become planet, star and universe, but aren't quite there yet? It's ambiguous, and not in a good way.
There are some other instances where the syntax is a little confusing. I think that this is potentially a very good poem -- it needs some tweaking, though.
(a double English Sonnet)
The petals of her flowers bloom as red,
To show the depth of her undying gift.
With flowing silver rivulets, it's said,
The ringlets of her tresses breezes shift.
These flowers that are rare and seldom picked
Will bloom when each full moon is in its phase.
Its waxing dappled light among them mixed,
That gives to them their eerie, ghostly haze.
Then waves of rushing showers' piercing flight,
As clouds surround to summon thunder's clap.
Till once again returning comes the night,
To hide away its plunder's seep and pap.
Embracing her bespangled rain adorn
Brings scent to stir a love she's always worn.
She runs her fingers through the dampened grade,
Her roots to drink the deluge from the storm.
The gard'ner, who is near, lays down his spade,
And 'neath a leafy refuge is reborn.
So from cocoon begets the arc of life,
More intimate, more than our minds can hold.
Stone gods the ancients did immortalize,
And still the trees of worship to behold.
To reach and then embrace her grace and such
In Flora's and in Fauna's harmony.
While evermore will Nature bring her touch
On planet, star, and universe to be.
Let order even now her force restore;
In time evolve the way things were before.
The rhyme and meter are all good. There are some lovely lines:
"Its waxing dappled light among them mixed" -- great assonance and consonance
"As clouds surround to summon thunder's clap" -- ditto
However, there are some awkward lines as well:
"The ringlets of her tresses breezes shift. " -- having "tresses" and "breezes" in succession is confusing. I take it that the breezes are shifting the ringlets of the tresses?
"Embracing her bespangled rain adorn
Brings scent to stir a love she's always worn" -- what is the role of "adorn" here? It's a verb, but I'm not seeing a subject that corresponds to it. It seems like a superfluous word in the sentence.
"So from cocoon begets the arc of life" -- "begets" is a transitive verb. What is the arc of life begetting?
"While evermore will Nature bring her touch
On planet, star, and universe to be." -- hmmm.. "to be"? Does that mean that we have some things which will eventually become planet, star and universe, but aren't quite there yet? It's ambiguous, and not in a good way.
There are some other instances where the syntax is a little confusing. I think that this is potentially a very good poem -- it needs some tweaking, though.
Anonymous
Here's one of mine. Feel free to critique it. I like to use a hybrid English/Italian rhyme scheme.
The Invitation
Would you ascend with me that daunting height
And rise above the gray uncertain mist,
Exposed and naked, at our lofty tryst,
To all the joys and perils that excite
The hearts of poets, and the likes of me?
That summit, by enamored breezes kissed,
Is one the gales of passion never missed;
There's havoc there, as well as ecstasy.
Our union, sweet as honey, may require
A core of steel, if it is to survive
The devastating tempest-winds that drive
Across the soaring peak of our desire.
Would you consent to make that climb with me,
To chase our loving to its apogee?
The Invitation
Would you ascend with me that daunting height
And rise above the gray uncertain mist,
Exposed and naked, at our lofty tryst,
To all the joys and perils that excite
The hearts of poets, and the likes of me?
That summit, by enamored breezes kissed,
Is one the gales of passion never missed;
There's havoc there, as well as ecstasy.
Our union, sweet as honey, may require
A core of steel, if it is to survive
The devastating tempest-winds that drive
Across the soaring peak of our desire.
Would you consent to make that climb with me,
To chase our loving to its apogee?
AH, I will try to submit a sonnet, though I suck at formal poetic forms.
However, I am attracted by the fact that you are providing critiques and feedback, and encouraging others to do so. As a relative newcomer to poetry, I really would like and will benefit from that kind of feedback, which is rarely available here at DUP.
However, I am attracted by the fact that you are providing critiques and feedback, and encouraging others to do so. As a relative newcomer to poetry, I really would like and will benefit from that kind of feedback, which is rarely available here at DUP.
Anonymous
My critique of my own sonnet is that it lacks a proper Volta. It just continues the argument of the first 8 lines until the end. The final couplet simply restates the initial premise without any ironic twist, so I think this poem falls short of being a successful sonnet.
Anonymous
'El brunir che precede la notte.
Con tramonti precedi del ciel innato
'el l'imbrunir che s'appressa,
Con cori dolci ricordi ed essa,
Da li miei occhi ora son accecato.
Del sol' la forte luce che affrancato,
Lo posto lasciar per la notte annessa,
Che col suo calor riman anch'essa,
Per lo spazio a' venir ne son affezionato,
E mentre tu sei lì, nel timor del tuo cor' andato,
Io che vago per la onda brigantessa,
Che del laccio il mio dipartir si tessa.
Della quiete del suo calor disperato.
Oh di me accogli nel tuo anonimato,
Che dallo alto della nube impressa,
Io veda la tua figura non più ressa,
Di tanto el amor mio condannato.
Con tramonti precedi del ciel innato
'el l'imbrunir che s'appressa,
Con cori dolci ricordi ed essa,
Da li miei occhi ora son accecato.
Del sol' la forte luce che affrancato,
Lo posto lasciar per la notte annessa,
Che col suo calor riman anch'essa,
Per lo spazio a' venir ne son affezionato,
E mentre tu sei lì, nel timor del tuo cor' andato,
Io che vago per la onda brigantessa,
Che del laccio il mio dipartir si tessa.
Della quiete del suo calor disperato.
Oh di me accogli nel tuo anonimato,
Che dallo alto della nube impressa,
Io veda la tua figura non più ressa,
Di tanto el amor mio condannato.
Anonymous
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