You might laugh.

[icepixie]

Watch me and my hatred of sonnets. Forced ryhme rhyme and rithym rythm rhythm are evil. See, they're even impossible to spell.

First one had to be Shakespearean sonnet rhyme scheme, but no rhythmic constrictions. Second one had to be Shakespearian and pentameter, but not iambic pentameter.


Shakespeare's Cat

"How fair thou art!" cries
our hero the tom from outside the glass.
His fair princess sighs
at his melodramatic, half-catnip-drunken pass
at her, and licks her orange fur,
pretending she doesn't hear
his pleading, chainsaw-esque purr.
She hopes that he will disappear,
leaving her to her own delights of feather toys
and her owner's soft hand;
she will be a spinster cat, her joys
simple, her life planned
and enscribed by her human Romeo.
She's already been fixed, you know.

---

Failure

I'm going for the ocean effect here, okay?
Syllables rising and falling like ocean waves,
transporting you to sleep, until the spray
comes over the side and hits you in the face.
Wake up! There's a rhyme here,
trying to hide in enjambed phrases, except
it sticks out, like a sore ear.
(How's that for a forced rhyme? It crept
up on me, this abab
thing, and oh, look, here's the mate,
that damned, infernal, codswallowing cdcd).
Now I have to go—the ending's late;
it's quite certain I'm no Shakespeare,
and I have nothing pithy to say here.

---

See? Horrible. But hopefully horrible enough to be entertaining. That was the plan, anyway. Since I knew I could never write a serious sonnet...

Comments

[icepixie]

Thanks. I'm hoping it cracks my class up on Tuesday...