Journal 10: Writing a Sonnet.
I wrote the following sonnet hoping to find inspiration from the topics discussed in this class. Now I know the French Revolution happened some 200 years after Shakespeare's death but for some reason the demon that possesses me so that I am able to be artistic had it on his mind so it's in there.
Threats of overflowing jars, bubbling blood from boiling phlegm,
From it's celestially designed position, surely calls for some repairs.
Thy crept through thou window crack to wait until your prayers doth stem,
And seize thou by thee gullible heart, and bring you into Satan's layer.
Suddenly all the candles burn, as if they had a fire all along
A noble father stood, sword drawn, thee not faltered one bit to kill me,
A gamble on greed of primogeniture, it payed off, for I would be dead were I wrong.
I grabbed his only son, whose skill in the blade equals only his capacity to see.
Thy head be the prime of thy body, yet lay useless without it's lessers,
The body supply a system without which thy head loose all virtue.
King's power is that of the Dutch tulip's, decided by investors.
Thy bank of the destitute hath foreclosed, and payments due.
"Let them eat cake." she once recommended. "Let her eat dirt,"
thee starving retorted "We pray the guillotine did truly hurt"
Wow
This sonnet is spectacular! I adore how you incorporated a lot of the Elizabethan terminology in it, especially the "boiling phlegm" phrase. I think Shakespeare would have been proud...or possibly jealous. You can never really tell with an aging, menopausal actor slash writer if you know what I mean.
*Tina
Flattery will get you everywhere.
Thank you very much for the nice things you said about my poem; although I doubt very much Shakespeare would have been proud of my work and know for sure he wouldn't have been jealous. My skill is pale in comparison to his and most of the people in this class judging from what I have read including yours.