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Published byBenedict Underwood Modified over 8 years ago
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Today’s Prompt Write a poem that begins with a proclamation. If you need a phrase to get your juices going, try “I will”.
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The Sonnet An Introduction
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What is a Sonnet? The word “sonnet” somes from the Italian word “sonetto” which means “little song.” Generally, it has been defined as a poem containing 14 lines of iambic pentameter, which means a pattern of five beats in the pattern of soft/LOUD or unstressed/STRESSED. Since sonnets rhyme, it is natural for the last syllable to be stressed to emphasize the rhyme.
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Types of Sonnets The English or Shakespearean sonnet has three quatrains + one couplet, rhyming as follows: abba,cdcd,efef, gg Sonnets often contain a turn (or volta in Italian), representing a shift in direction, tone, theme or message. In Shakespeare’s sonnets, this usually comes in the 8 th or 9 th line, but could also occur in the final couplet. It is often signified by starting the line with words such as “But” or “Yet”.
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Types of Sonnets (cont.) The Petrarchan or Italian Sonnet is named for 14 th century Italian poet Francesco Petrarch. It has a set rhyme scheme of 8 + 6 lines. The first eight lines, or octet, rhymes as follows: abbaabba The last six lines, or sestet, marks the turn and has a different pattern, such as: cdecde----or----cdcdcd-----or-- cccddd---or---cccddd Quick ways to tell the type of sonnet: If the first and 8 th lines rhyme, it’s Italian If the last two lines do not rhyme, it’s Italian
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How to write a sonnet!
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Rule 1 It must consist of 14 lines.
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Rule 2 It must be written in iambic pentameter (duh-DUH-duh-DUH-duh-DUH-duh- DUH-duh-DUH).
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Rule 3 It must be written in one of various standard rhyme schemes.
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Examples Sonnet #18 by William Shakespeare Shall I compare to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed, And every fair from fair sometime declines By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of the fair thou ow’st, Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st. So long as men can breathe and eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. Where is the “turn”? In the final line, to what does “this” refer? Can you find an example of personification? Metaphor? What is the answer to the question posed by the author in the first line?
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Italian Example Donald Justice- "Sonnet: The Poet at Seven" And on the porch, across the upturned chair, The boy would spread a dingy counterpane Against the length and majesty of the rain, And on all fours crawl under it like a bear To lick his wounds in secret, in his lair; And afterwards, in the windy yard again, One hand cocked back, release his paper plane Frail as a mayfly to the faithless air. And summer evenings he would whirl around Faster and faster till the drunken ground Rose up to meet him; sometimes he would squat Among the bent weeds of the vacant lot, Waiting for dusk and someone dear to come And whip him down the street, but gently home. Notice the turn at line 9, "And summer evenings..." and how it develops and closes the poem by the last line. Justice changed the form a bit, rhyming the sestet "ccd dee," or viewed as couplets "cc dd ee."
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Contemporary Examples Sonnet XVII: Love I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close. -- Pablo Neruda
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Pediophilia: Love of dolls By Jessica Piazza My aunt's room in her parents' house became a home for dolls the week she died. The first a neighbor's fearsome, glass-gazed gift that dulled my grandma's utter grief; the next a paint and porcelain she numbly bought one night from QVC. It looked like her. And now she sees her children's children grow, and knows it's good. But they can't guess each tiny dress arranged by day comes into disarray by night. They bring her dolls; naïve, as she weeps in the overflowing sea of limbs that managed, year by year, to commandeer the bed, the floor, and more…an orphanage of girls. Hundreds of eyes that cannot shut.
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