Why, thank you, Josephine. And I haven't been in collusion with your
old man -- though my wife calls me "old fart," at least when she's not
from New Zealand.
That's quite respectable for a first sonnet. I think there's no reason
to save the situation for the couplet -- put it in the title. Line 5 is
filler, and the sentence from line 8 to 12 isn't even good prose:
The pain continues whether day or night,
no matter how I move or writhe in fear, [ semicolon or period, not
comma]
pill popping dulls and blurs my sight, [not enough distinction between
"dull" and "blurs" to escape the suspicion of metrical padding]
mind numbed, hands shake, feet tremble out of gear. [These are also
results of the pills, no? If so, their grammatical structure should
parallel "blurs my sight." If not, they belong in another sentence.]
Not too difficult to fix, I think. Not bad at all.
On Wednesday, July 18, 2001, at 08:00 PM, Printmaker wrote:
> Thankyou all! Your advice was much appreciated though it
> came in while I was offline struggling with it. ANd the
> examples were helpful too. Michael's 'putting clothes away'
> by far my favourite - have you been swapping notes with my
> old man?
>
> The table idea was quickly chucked out. I then dug out the
> only sonnets I have here, Shakespeare and worked from one of
> those instead. I quickly worked out that the reason they
> stopped at ten syllables is that it nicely matches number of
> fingers for counting them out. *chuckle* After a little
> while the form seemed to stick in my head and it got a
> little easier. So here it is poem #4
>
> feel free to tear it to shreds, constructive criticism
> always welcome
>
> Aftermath
>
> I curse the pain which drives me to my bed,
> my body prone, limp limbs that are not tired,
> lost time's frustration ever in my head,
> once limitless, my patience now expired.
> Recluse, herein entombed where I abide,
> confined to where I do not wish to be,
> no sign reveals the damaged nerves inside,
> the ceiling's white is all that I can see.
> The pain continues whether day or night,
> no matter how I move or writhe in fear,
> pill popping dulls and blurs my sight,
> mind numbed, hands shake, feet tremble out of gear.
> Drunk driver heed this, were you not blind,
> I'd not be here to slowly lose my mind.
>
> J Severn 2001
>
> The trick is to identify which sonnet I appropriated?
>
> Josephine
>
|