Sonnet Poems
#sonnet
Sonnet poems have fourteen lines, and may conform to a number of different formal rhyme schemes. Sonnet poems typically have ten syllables per line.
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
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
48 reads
0 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
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
PAR
Poem Published
6th Feb 2023 11:13am
6th Feb 2023 11:13am
So not
I am going to tell you what love is not.
All stars in the sky your eyes can see.
All salt left after drying the dead sea.
Stone hiding in the flesh of an apricot.
Love's not the echo of a far gun shot.
Is not a meal where all is gluten free.
Autumnal flapping wings all over me.
Not giving away all things you've got.
Is not having dreams took by assault.
Wich bird sings in the glory mornings.
What started fight of thunder and bolt.
love's not count pace of heart beating.
The break in your heart is not my fault. ...
All stars in the sky your eyes can see.
All salt left after drying the dead sea.
Stone hiding in the flesh of an apricot.
Love's not the echo of a far gun shot.
Is not a meal where all is gluten free.
Autumnal flapping wings all over me.
Not giving away all things you've got.
Is not having dreams took by assault.
Wich bird sings in the glory mornings.
What started fight of thunder and bolt.
love's not count pace of heart beating.
The break in your heart is not my fault. ...
#love
#sonnet
#WritingPoetry
122 reads
6 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
4th Feb 2023 8:19pm
4th Feb 2023 8:19pm
Machine Writes.
I bet that Stratford lad, Will, what's his name?
when counting his fame never bemoaned moans,
scoffing bacon sarnies, top of his game,
with his pals hacking plays out of old tomes.
Some say an infinity of monkey
banging typewriters can write the same thing,
and algorithms on new machines, maybe
usurp us rhymers to make poems swing.
So I bang away like old king Canute
in the hope to keep this new tide from my door,
where one presses buttons, get writes to suit,
machines write perfect but I provide flaws.
...
when counting his fame never bemoaned moans,
scoffing bacon sarnies, top of his game,
with his pals hacking plays out of old tomes.
Some say an infinity of monkey
banging typewriters can write the same thing,
and algorithms on new machines, maybe
usurp us rhymers to make poems swing.
So I bang away like old king Canute
in the hope to keep this new tide from my door,
where one presses buttons, get writes to suit,
machines write perfect but I provide flaws.
...
#rhyming
#sonnet
64 reads
2 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
27th Jan 2023 8:41am
27th Jan 2023 8:41am
Reflection
There's something tragical about a glass
hanging there mutely absorbing the world,
silently soaking daily scenes up as
life parades past with quick looks in a whirl.
As I pass I glance at this one, sideways,
it shows Mum's coats still hanging in the hall
though these are from our past, our yesterdays,
there they are forlorn on hooks on the wall.
This was the mirror Mum used, as Mums do,
bustling in and out of our old rude home
and strangely, without my specks, as I grew,
I would glimpse her, in this glass, though alone.
...
hanging there mutely absorbing the world,
silently soaking daily scenes up as
life parades past with quick looks in a whirl.
As I pass I glance at this one, sideways,
it shows Mum's coats still hanging in the hall
though these are from our past, our yesterdays,
there they are forlorn on hooks on the wall.
This was the mirror Mum used, as Mums do,
bustling in and out of our old rude home
and strangely, without my specks, as I grew,
I would glimpse her, in this glass, though alone.
...
#sonnet
81 reads
8 Comments
Fishmander
Poem Published
18th Jan 2023 3:51pm
18th Jan 2023 3:51pm
Kingdom
I am the tired madman in the garden
Reciting words I have not heard before
Fatigued on the isles of the uncertain
Thinning me as I am swallowed on shore
I can taste the sour soot of black knowledge
Coursing through my veins, feeding me detached
Like a centerfold leading to madness
Singing praise I can feel squirm when is scratched
I see patina on stars decompose
Bleeding out, a vision caused by aura
In the redness of the dawn I repose
Flirting when I see vassals of Pandora
I hear oceans whisper from each corner ...
Reciting words I have not heard before
Fatigued on the isles of the uncertain
Thinning me as I am swallowed on shore
I can taste the sour soot of black knowledge
Coursing through my veins, feeding me detached
Like a centerfold leading to madness
Singing praise I can feel squirm when is scratched
I see patina on stars decompose
Bleeding out, a vision caused by aura
In the redness of the dawn I repose
Flirting when I see vassals of Pandora
I hear oceans whisper from each corner ...
#dark
#identity
#sonnet
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection
79 reads
0 Comments
MidnightSonneteer
Poem Published
15th Jan 2023 12:39pm
15th Jan 2023 12:39pm
Hinged
Let the lexicon of my existence
Be a nonstop string of superlatives,
To tilt against the rebuking chance gives,
With their gillyflowers of recompense
Packed in the finery of tailored words
Since at least I have the gift of the gab;
A late talent I could not quickly grab...
Like literacy for lazy goatherds.
Thus upon a volta, I turned, and throve,
And realized that all along I had
Brain storms as noble as Sir Galahad
In the armamentarium alcove
Notoriously difficult to scan;
That onetime...
Be a nonstop string of superlatives,
To tilt against the rebuking chance gives,
With their gillyflowers of recompense
Packed in the finery of tailored words
Since at least I have the gift of the gab;
A late talent I could not quickly grab...
Like literacy for lazy goatherds.
Thus upon a volta, I turned, and throve,
And realized that all along I had
Brain storms as noble as Sir Galahad
In the armamentarium alcove
Notoriously difficult to scan;
That onetime...
#motivational
#sonnet
#MentalHealth #uplifting
#MentalHealth #uplifting
99 reads
5 Comments
Fishmander
Poem Published
15th Jan 2023 9:08am
15th Jan 2023 9:08am
Purification
At my core I am pretty
But only when I can see my breath
It is cold but it's with me
Like bloody knuckles beat against my chest
In my youth I was shitty
My greatest shame is my greatest friend
It's a truth that has shaped me
Lament beginnings while building the end
In the rain we were dancing
And I've forgotten how so long ago
Another splash then hits me
You never know a thing you think you know
At my core I feel parts shifting around
Time to remember, I will remember.
But only when I can see my breath
It is cold but it's with me
Like bloody knuckles beat against my chest
In my youth I was shitty
My greatest shame is my greatest friend
It's a truth that has shaped me
Lament beginnings while building the end
In the rain we were dancing
And I've forgotten how so long ago
Another splash then hits me
You never know a thing you think you know
At my core I feel parts shifting around
Time to remember, I will remember.
#love
#dark
#friendship
#sonnet
#SelfReflection
126 reads
0 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
12th Jan 2023 9:56am
12th Jan 2023 9:56am
Travels in The Past
Here? Fields we rambled, played and picnicked on
adjacent, there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered sheds, those also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it, hedgerows grew,
flourished even beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways on hard packed earth these flew
between farmers fields where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these, alas, engraved on simple minds
all those crops, trees and country greenery
lost to the progress of the...
adjacent, there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered sheds, those also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it, hedgerows grew,
flourished even beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways on hard packed earth these flew
between farmers fields where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these, alas, engraved on simple minds
all those crops, trees and country greenery
lost to the progress of the...
#sonnet
61 reads
4 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
8th Jan 2023 2:31pm
8th Jan 2023 2:31pm
The Mad Suitor, an old-style sonnet
My love, I came for you like wine
emerges from the grape when crushed
beneath a pale foot. What other sign
of mortal love might prove a male hushed
by woman’s charms, than when I killed
your suitor on the lawn? Your father felt
it bandits, dear, I know, but maybe chilled
by depth of love, and having smelt
its scent before on passing me at market
once, you knew whose hand had dealt.
A gambler’s metaphor, my dear. I’m rogue
as well as outcast, as you know. Brogues
be damned, I’ll walk the lawn again tonight.
And kill...
emerges from the grape when crushed
beneath a pale foot. What other sign
of mortal love might prove a male hushed
by woman’s charms, than when I killed
your suitor on the lawn? Your father felt
it bandits, dear, I know, but maybe chilled
by depth of love, and having smelt
its scent before on passing me at market
once, you knew whose hand had dealt.
A gambler’s metaphor, my dear. I’m rogue
as well as outcast, as you know. Brogues
be damned, I’ll walk the lawn again tonight.
And kill...
#love
#murder
#sonnet #obsession
#sonnet #obsession
93 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Sonnet Poems
