Sonnet 20: The Summer's Day Sonnet

Can't sleep, so I challenged myself to write a happy-ish sonnet in 30 minutes.

Who would compare you to a summer's day?
A summer's day does not make my heart sing.
Where I'm from, those days suck in every way.
Why didn't he compare you to the spring?

A summer's day is miserably hot.
I mean, things die if they're left in a car,
And everyone is angry and distraught
Because our sun is such a dickish star.

Our stupid sun gives us the cancer, right?
So, no. I won't compare you to a God of Death.
I will compare you to a summer's night,
'Cause I can feel your warmth in darkness' breath.

My heart and soul burn when I think of you.
...I guess that global warming does that too...

Sonnets: The "Cleaning Out My Closet" Sessions

Popped into the sonnet folder and finished a couple... They're personal, they're honest, and they're ugly.


Sonnet 16

Re-thinking things and here are my two cents:
Don't cut out people. Trust me, I've tried.
'Cause turning a blind eye just robs one sense
And seems to leave the others amplified.

It may be easier to shut the door,

But doors will only keep in feelings caught.

And weathered walls will not withstand the fire

Of passion and love that can't be forgot.

'Cause I still taste her kisses on my lips

And I remember the smell of her hair.

My hands remember the feel of her hips.

These ears think they hear her everywhere.

If losing one sense is the others' gain,
Then teach me how I can turn off my brain.


Sonnet 17 (The Mercutio Sonnet)

Look, all I wanted was to be your friend,
And be someone with whom you could confide.
But I had no idea that this would end
With getting me stabbed in the fucking side.

You got me caught up in your stupid love.
I should have known that something was amiss.
I have so many questions, but above
All else: what was the fucking point of this?

A plague o' both your houses! Hear my screams
With what appears to be my dying breath.
My mind goes back to Queen Mab and those dreams
Yet I had never dreamed you'd cause this death.

But good for you. Get married. Pick out shelves.
Or skip to the end, and go kill yourselves.


Sonnet 18

Her arms don't feel like a salvation but,
I guess that they are good for a quick fix.
On paper she is perfect, but then what
Good's a perfection full of asterisks?

I search for answers in her eyes. I stare
but only find there's nothing to be learned.
I look for fire, but there is nothing there
But I still feel the fire when I get burned.

I'm tortured by this itch that I can't scratch.
My other passions are put on the shelf.
Like Ahab, I am fixated on a catch,
And it is making me destroy myself.

I look at her, and I don't see a mate.
I only see my expiration date.

Sonnet 15: The Stormtrooper Sonnet

I bought a stormtrooper helmet recently. It's beautiful. It is so beautiful that I immediately wanted to write a sonnet about it (concentrating on its porcelain "skin" and big green eyes). From there, it became a sonnet to a stormtropper... then a sonnet to a stormtrooper from a stormtrooper... then a sonnet to a stormtrooper from a stormtrooper who has watched the events of the Star Wars movies and felt like referencing dialogue... Just go with it.

This may be the cutest (my favorite joke in it notwithstanding), sweetest, dorkiest thing I've ever written.

I hide these feelings like a rebel base

And hope they fade as when a Jedi dies.

But, how I long to touch your smooth, white face,

And get lost deep in your dark giant eyes.

No Jedi lie could make me love you more.

My mind may be weak, but this force is strong

You are the one that I've been looking for.

I promise I will never move along.

My only hope is that you feel the same.

My passion for you burns like Aunt Beru. (HAHAHAHA)

Though some may say that I don't have great aim,

The thing I seem to miss the most is you.

Behind this mask is one who loves you so.

I know you do too. So just say, 'I know."

Sonnets Part 1

This blog is gonna have new content and new stuff, but I wanted to start with some sonnets. I love sonnets.  Love them.  Sonnets are... perfect. I love how perfect sonnets have to be... how any free-flowing creativity has to be concentrated and formatted to fit a very specific structure. And how the constrictive nature of a sonnet forces even more creativity. Sonnets are Sudoku with words.

I have google drafts just filled with unfinished quatrains and couplets... If you were to open any of those drafts, you'd see line after line with "a BUNCH of DUMB shit WRITten OUT like THIS." That was how I figured out how to do the iambic pentameter easier. It looks like AOL circa 1996 or the insane ramblings of... me.

These are the few I managed to finish over my life... The first is very high school which is okay because it was written in Freshman year. With the possible exception of 13, they all have a story or a person that inspired them.