Least Read Sonnet Poems
#sonnet
Rew
Poem Published
21st Mar 2023 3:58pm
21st Mar 2023 3:58pm
Her Loving Parts.
My love reigns supreme in her loving parts
I see it in her golden eye and smile,
we hasten to each other from being apart
in her furry softness she has no guile.
But she has another place I cannot reach
some secret spot where in her mind she flies,
within there she has no sight or purring speech
If she stays there, then, surely I will die.
I have no choice but to hold her, just so
till eyes flutters open into the light,
and her nose suffused with her golden glow
and again we enjoy our silent night.
My Sally cat and...
I see it in her golden eye and smile,
we hasten to each other from being apart
in her furry softness she has no guile.
But she has another place I cannot reach
some secret spot where in her mind she flies,
within there she has no sight or purring speech
If she stays there, then, surely I will die.
I have no choice but to hold her, just so
till eyes flutters open into the light,
and her nose suffused with her golden glow
and again we enjoy our silent night.
My Sally cat and...
#cats
#sonnet
30 reads
3 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
9th Feb 2023 10:25pm
9th Feb 2023 10:25pm
The Carr Academy ii
It was the old grey Carr Academy
where she, all stately dressed in granite stone,
waited to take and teach four-year-old-me
and did I hear my forebears fearful moans?
A school from that harsh Victorian age
erected in Eighteen-Seventy-Four,
when black-slate and chalk ruled not paper page
and teachers taught class tasks by rote and lore.
My great-grandmother attended this school
as did four generations after her,
back then you'd be flogged for playing the fool
or not addressing the Masters as, sir...
...
where she, all stately dressed in granite stone,
waited to take and teach four-year-old-me
and did I hear my forebears fearful moans?
A school from that harsh Victorian age
erected in Eighteen-Seventy-Four,
when black-slate and chalk ruled not paper page
and teachers taught class tasks by rote and lore.
My great-grandmother attended this school
as did four generations after her,
back then you'd be flogged for playing the fool
or not addressing the Masters as, sir...
...
#sonnet
32 reads
0 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
14th Feb 2023 9:30pm
14th Feb 2023 9:30pm
My Old School Ties
It had no Latin, no French and no Greek
no aspirations to be Oxbridges,
no Eaton's playing fields just soot-grimed streets
and forever reeked of boiled cabbages.
But the area served some famous names
just not this infant and junior school's,
Keith Waterhouse, author of playwright fame,
and Richard Hoggart's literacy use.
And Mathew Murray and John Blenkinsop's
engine, on their world famous railway line,
and that Rolls Royce of prams...
no aspirations to be Oxbridges,
no Eaton's playing fields just soot-grimed streets
and forever reeked of boiled cabbages.
But the area served some famous names
just not this infant and junior school's,
Keith Waterhouse, author of playwright fame,
and Richard Hoggart's literacy use.
And Mathew Murray and John Blenkinsop's
engine, on their world famous railway line,
and that Rolls Royce of prams...
#sonnet
35 reads
0 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
9th Mar 2023 7:31pm
9th Mar 2023 7:31pm
The Old Stone Wall
Strange how a stone wall grows to great value
this sight which lacks meaning in passing eyes,
but I played my childhood games in this view
saw me chase, chased, and heard my shrieking cries.
My mother's grandfather played here with mates
as they bounced bamboo hoops or balls to school,
and, likely, stopped to look back from the gates
to see later kids play the self same fool.
There's nothing much left of our vanished past
a few bricks here and there and these old stones
blackened and weather...
this sight which lacks meaning in passing eyes,
but I played my childhood games in this view
saw me chase, chased, and heard my shrieking cries.
My mother's grandfather played here with mates
as they bounced bamboo hoops or balls to school,
and, likely, stopped to look back from the gates
to see later kids play the self same fool.
There's nothing much left of our vanished past
a few bricks here and there and these old stones
blackened and weather...
#sonnet
38 reads
4 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
11th Feb 2023 11:40am
11th Feb 2023 11:40am
A Little Schooling, A little fooling...
It was the center of my childish days
replete with gas-lit streets and killer smog,
the walls, black-soot-pitted from acid rains,
and outside toilets where, sometimes, we'd snog.
But the hand-basins now don't reach my thigh
and the rough Izal toilet paper, gone,
along with the coal-tar soap which stung my eyes
but I recall we chorused great school songs,
and weaved gay candy-striped maypole ribbons
as to the ' keel row ' we high-stepped a reel,
or...
replete with gas-lit streets and killer smog,
the walls, black-soot-pitted from acid rains,
and outside toilets where, sometimes, we'd snog.
But the hand-basins now don't reach my thigh
and the rough Izal toilet paper, gone,
along with the coal-tar soap which stung my eyes
but I recall we chorused great school songs,
and weaved gay candy-striped maypole ribbons
as to the ' keel row ' we high-stepped a reel,
or...
#childhood
#school
#sonnet #memories
#sonnet #memories
40 reads
0 Comments
Sonneteer
L Robinson
L Robinson
Poem Published
4th Mar 2023 3:07pm
4th Mar 2023 3:07pm
Retrospective Realisation
Too long my haze held diagnosis like
some trophy, prize, won in imagined fight.
The scars are real, inflictions haunt my night,
but self, not others, wielded piercing spike.
Construing madness as some well placed strike
I failed to stem my spreading, seeping blight.
My troubled head inverted wrong and right,
then finally found peace with self dislike.
There’s many suffer in so many ways,
these obstacles are there to overcome.
If possible one mitigates the hurt
and each attempt advances and repays,
both those who vocalise,...
some trophy, prize, won in imagined fight.
The scars are real, inflictions haunt my night,
but self, not others, wielded piercing spike.
Construing madness as some well placed strike
I failed to stem my spreading, seeping blight.
My troubled head inverted wrong and right,
then finally found peace with self dislike.
There’s many suffer in so many ways,
these obstacles are there to overcome.
If possible one mitigates the hurt
and each attempt advances and repays,
both those who vocalise,...
#sonnet
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection
#suffering
#determination
42 reads
0 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
10th Feb 2023 11:05am
10th Feb 2023 11:05am
The Old School
Round the granite dressed Carr Academy
in right grandly named crescent, streets and road
a host of terraced houses neighbourly
nestled, back-to-back, side-by-side and dozed...
On lift of latch brass-bell of corner shops
would clang telling folk shop might make a sale,
and growl of iron clad wheels and clip-clop
of brewer's dray-horse carting pub some ales.
But come four-of-the-clock great clamour screamed
as kids tight-sprung sprang out...
in right grandly named crescent, streets and road
a host of terraced houses neighbourly
nestled, back-to-back, side-by-side and dozed...
On lift of latch brass-bell of corner shops
would clang telling folk shop might make a sale,
and growl of iron clad wheels and clip-clop
of brewer's dray-horse carting pub some ales.
But come four-of-the-clock great clamour screamed
as kids tight-sprung sprang out...
#sonnet
46 reads
0 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
15th Mar 2023 7:51pm
15th Mar 2023 7:51pm
Memories of Lesbos
Womanhood has such magic within it
think; Songs of Hestia from her secret dell,
that the feminine in some men is spirited
to strike the shackles off of their man made hell.
It can compel a girl to leave her father's hearth
or a woman vacate her husband's rude bed,
and feel no remorse as they are moved to part
from the false authority of manly heads.
Don't think, Hoplite, those citizen warriors,
grooming each, naked, preparing to die at fight,
but rather think Aphrodite's sacred whores
welcoming little deaths on holy...
think; Songs of Hestia from her secret dell,
that the feminine in some men is spirited
to strike the shackles off of their man made hell.
It can compel a girl to leave her father's hearth
or a woman vacate her husband's rude bed,
and feel no remorse as they are moved to part
from the false authority of manly heads.
Don't think, Hoplite, those citizen warriors,
grooming each, naked, preparing to die at fight,
but rather think Aphrodite's sacred whores
welcoming little deaths on holy...
#men
#sonnet
#humankind
46 reads
8 Comments
Sonneteer
L Robinson
L Robinson
Poem Published
3rd Mar 2023 7:24pm
3rd Mar 2023 7:24pm
Delusional Dissolution
I feel as if all claims I made were sham,
and reconstruct how folk indulged pretence,
so I ignored my stunted lack of sense
whilst spurring fantasies of dreamt elan.
I prided my critique of those who swam,
reflex objection to their competence,
before abuse this morphed into offence;
now even I will pain at who I am.
This coarse reflection could tell truths or lies,
now that mind’s mirror and the mind are cracked,
but better use than blinker inward sight.
I tolerate myself, I don’t despise,
so far preamble, void of worth or...
and reconstruct how folk indulged pretence,
so I ignored my stunted lack of sense
whilst spurring fantasies of dreamt elan.
I prided my critique of those who swam,
reflex objection to their competence,
before abuse this morphed into offence;
now even I will pain at who I am.
This coarse reflection could tell truths or lies,
now that mind’s mirror and the mind are cracked,
but better use than blinker inward sight.
I tolerate myself, I don’t despise,
so far preamble, void of worth or...
#hope
#sonnet
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection
#SelfWorth
47 reads
4 Comments
Sonneteer
L Robinson
L Robinson
Poem Published
4th Mar 2023 9:34pm
4th Mar 2023 9:34pm
Tempest and Aftermath
Association, apex to nadir,
may soften concepts held of others’ fate,
but only if the mind discriminate,
and learn extremes have charlatan and seer.
With crude insight, thoughts fail to fuse, they shear,
the crest, the trough, excesses common trait,
or seem if one won’t differentiate,
then rudderless the waves control and steer.
The calms of norms, once spurned, unveil their charm,
akin to whiling hours in reverie,
but middle ground is too a sought for place.
To guide a ship through storms must raise alarm,
now in dry dock,...
may soften concepts held of others’ fate,
but only if the mind discriminate,
and learn extremes have charlatan and seer.
With crude insight, thoughts fail to fuse, they shear,
the crest, the trough, excesses common trait,
or seem if one won’t differentiate,
then rudderless the waves control and steer.
The calms of norms, once spurned, unveil their charm,
akin to whiling hours in reverie,
but middle ground is too a sought for place.
To guide a ship through storms must raise alarm,
now in dry dock,...
#LifeStruggles
#storm
#fate
#narrative
#sonnet
52 reads
5 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
8th Feb 2023 8:07pm
8th Feb 2023 8:07pm
The Carr Academy i
I well remember my first day at school
dashing eager through Victorian doors,
beveled glass refracting rainbows, wood smoothed
by countless sweet-bribed kids, pushed in its maw.
And the dour-faced whelping who greeted me,
so high, so mighty, so imperious,
who yanked me away, seemingly with glee,
from some toys, saying " Not for likes of us!"
Ah well, she's far beyond chastisement now
and the indignities? Surely, I'll forgive,
for she must've got something right, or how,
could I be penning this, little missive? ...
dashing eager through Victorian doors,
beveled glass refracting rainbows, wood smoothed
by countless sweet-bribed kids, pushed in its maw.
And the dour-faced whelping who greeted me,
so high, so mighty, so imperious,
who yanked me away, seemingly with glee,
from some toys, saying " Not for likes of us!"
Ah well, she's far beyond chastisement now
and the indignities? Surely, I'll forgive,
for she must've got something right, or how,
could I be penning this, little missive? ...
#sonnet
53 reads
2 Comments
Sonneteer
L Robinson
L Robinson
Poem Published
2nd Mar 2023 8:59pm
2nd Mar 2023 8:59pm
One Compared to Many
You motivate yourselves to gain some prize,
I squander time in inactivity,
you seek attention in another’s eyes,
whilst I wish hide from prying scrutiny.
You socialise and form relationships,
I isolate, stagnate as time proceeds,
you sink the draft in one or many sips,
I scupper self, entwined in my own weeds.
You replicate your mould, as it made you,
and I abstain (still voice may not be dumb),
there’s stasis in your aspiration’s view,
just as there is, in how I feel so numb.
So as you clamour, multiply, and thrive,
I pride...
I squander time in inactivity,
you seek attention in another’s eyes,
whilst I wish hide from prying scrutiny.
You socialise and form relationships,
I isolate, stagnate as time proceeds,
you sink the draft in one or many sips,
I scupper self, entwined in my own weeds.
You replicate your mould, as it made you,
and I abstain (still voice may not be dumb),
there’s stasis in your aspiration’s view,
just as there is, in how I feel so numb.
So as you clamour, multiply, and thrive,
I pride...
#sonnet
54 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Sonnet Poems
Page:
