Josephine
Your method seems to have worked really well. This is genuine pentameter,
not syllabics. There are just two lines where the metre goes astray:
>pill popping dulls and blurs my sight,
is too short, a tetrameter rather than a pentameter. It needs another iambic
foot.
>Drunk driver heed this, were you not blind,
needs an extra syllable to make it flow smoothly, eg:
>Drunk driver heed this, were you not so blind,
The poem's main problem (no doubt due to your model) is a slightly awkward
mixed register, eg a contemporary, almost slangy phrase like 'pill popping'
goes oddly with semi-archaic words like 'herein' and 'abide'. But combining
up-to-date language with traditional form is one of the hardest things to
do. Overall, I think it's very impressive.
I haven't spotted the Shakespeare. My knowledge of the sonnets is a bit
rusty.
Best wishes
Matthew
-----Original Message-----
From: Printmaker <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
Date: 19 July 2001 01:03
Subject: Sonnets
>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
>
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