Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Poem 15

Number 15

We are going to write, for lack of a better term, backward sonnets.

Here’s how it works: all of the rules of a sonnet stay the same except for one: the rhyming words come at the beginnings of the lines instead of at the ends. 

It maintains the structure and syllabic form of a sonnet, but loses the end-rhyme, sing-songy-ness that all but the best sonnets seem to have at some point. It also messes with your head a little bit to have to rhyme first words.

Small, like marbles she keeps in her pockets

Totems of a more organic timeframe

Call her cynical or just paranoid

Modems and machines are not good people

Trees, she remembers the bigness of trees

Fresh and green and imposing  on blue sky

Free and flying, touching the mountain tops

Flesh and blood real living earth people

Before all the electric retro-fits

Plastic hard wired G. P. S. organs

Explore all the fancy high tech options

Spastic and twitching like Star Trek fan boys

Overall we never asked questions

Small, a seed for remembrance, she's alive 

1 comment:

  1. I don't understand why this is a backwards sonnet and I'm not going to try to figure it out because I'm not sure I care about that. But there is a lot in here that I like, the fourth line especially.