Citatepedia^®.com

I intended an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet.

quote by Austin Dobson
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Wife to Be (Petrarchan Sonnet)

I stroll along a fragrant country lane
With honeysuckle perfume on the air -
And feathered crooner's warble to revere -
Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain
In empathy - it seems to sense my pain
Of knowing all was done with my affair -
Her empty meaning now the solitaire
She cast away - betrothment all in vain.
But oceans team with many fish to catch
So I must up and hoist another sail
And seek the one that really waits for me,
For soon auspicious breezes will prevail
In guiding forth to find a truer match:
The one to take my hand as wife to be.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet Cycle to M C after W S Sonnets CXXXI - CXXXIX

Sonnet Cycle to M C after William Shakespeare Sonnets CXXXI - CLIV

[c] Jonathan Robin

CARE IS OUR DREAM

Sonnet Cycle after William Shakespeare: Part II
Sonnets CXXXI - CLIV

Shakespeare Sonnet CXXXI

Thou art so tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
To say they err I dare not be so bold,
Although I swear it to myself alone.
And to be sure that is not false, I swear,
A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
One on another's neck, do witness bear
Thy black is fairest in my judgement's place.
In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

Sonnet CXXXI
Swift in succession fleet speed thoughts when I
Allow time to rhyme contemplating smile.
Nefertiti resignèdly would cry
Grieving 'Quits' obliged to reconcile
To defeat, a feat none else dare try.
Outer skin and inner heart worthwhile
Most naturally ally I testify,
Adopt love’s truth to heart, scorn art and style.
Millions shudder – to your rank unworthy -
Aware all their priorities weigh zilch,
Understatements glib by small minds scurvy,
Deprived of value still your fame they’d filch.
Enshadowed, dark, stark dead their teeming dreams
Compelled to spell fell shutters, failing themes.

Shakespeare Sonnet CXXXII

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,
Have put on black and ivory mourner she,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Rode to a Knight Impale - after John Keats - Ode to a Nightingale

. :) kindly refer to notes. :)

My part aches and a rousing stiffness pains
my whole as though viagra I had drank,
or loosened up some pheronomic chains
split seconds past, endorphined, anticipating prank.
'Tis not through envy that I ask a lot,
but seeking through your image happiness,
love-lipped epitome of all that please
amused muse stays aware that what you've got
conjurs wet dreams, streams’ ready eddies numberless,
straw hollow swallows spring in full-throated ease.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
fat vat prime time cocked, erect in deep pelvic berth,
tasting of horny fauna’s jelly beans,
dancing tandem to tambourine song since sunny birth!
O for a beaker full of the warm south,
filled to whet winking brink noways obscene,
with beaded bubbles oozing at the brim,
of purple-hooded mouth;

That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
and with thee knock on doors quite in the swim:
ride far away, knot solve, and quite forget
what you senses leaves had never known,
no weariness, no fever, and no fret.
Here, men lose wit to hear each other groan
as palsy shakes a few, sad, beardless chins,
where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and sighs;
where but to think of size baits rod with sorrow
and leaden-eyed despairs,
No, Beauty, none may mime your lustrous eyes,
where new Love pines, fears un-orgasmic morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
not roped in by vile censors, critics’ pards,
but on untrammelled wings of intimacy,
though most dull brains perplex, their sloth retards.
Already with thee! tender is the night,
and tenderness my motto ‘tis well known
to massage tissues starry nights, sun days,
without the which love’s light
moons absence of reflection, breezes blown
through tortuous gameplays, inexperienced ways.

You should not care what flowers are at your feet,
for all is incense garland, and endows

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet LX - Variations In Imitation - after William Shakespeare

See below W S Sonnet LX for English and French variations

Sonnet LX

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,
Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow
Feeds on the rareities of Nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow;
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth despite his cruel hand.

William SHAKESPEARE shak1_0008_shak1_0000 PST_DZX
________________________

So nnet LX Imitation - Par Vagues

Par vagues, s’approchant à la rive pierreuse,
Nos instants précieux écument leur destin,
Chacun son précédent remplaçant en chemin,
Le tout se bousculant - avancée périlleuse.
Le Temps notre jeunesse avale et l’âme heureuse,
Avance, et, mûrissant, se voit sacrée: sa main
Dispute nos chansons, gloires d’antan, - déclin
Que le faucheur étale, éclipse malheureuse.
Le Temps reprend ses dons, de profonds sillons creuse,
Des affronts forts profonds au front jadis si saint,
En dévorant les traces de notre grâce éteinte,
Aucun ne faisant face à sa fauche rieuse!
Pourtant malgré le Temps, sa main sans pitié,
Ces lignes attendent un jour coulant de vérité.

15 December 1991 revised 2005 robi3_0508_shak1_0008 PFT_DZX see robi3_0654
Translation William SHAKESPEARE – Sonnet LX for previous version see below

__________________

Sonnet LX

Ainsi qu’aux vagues visant la rive pierreuse,
Nos instants précieux se hâtent vers leur destin,
Chacun son précedent remplaçant en chemin,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Don't Tell THe World! (Sonnet)

This Sonnet is in the popular Petrarchan Form

I behold thy love as beautiful thing,
In my wrecked heart, a pleasure garden,
Thy revered love, a blooming Eden.
A daisy tuft seasoned by bright spring,
Surging in moments that defeats waiting,
I behold thy words as a jeweled crown,
On my worn pages of despicable frown.
And thy memory feeds my mind dying,
Daring couple disclose, but don’t you tell,
About memoirs many encased and kept,
Say not thy chronicle, sweet as daisy smell,
Buried, not unseen to thy eyes except
Reveal not, the guarded stash of our love,
Lest a rational world desires to know! ! !

IA NOTE: For those who find the format unfitting to a sonnet!

(Sonnet
only 14 lines long— and has a firmly fixed form. The sonnet works best for expressing strong emotion or intense feeling, firm purpose, or great seriousness. This form works best if you want to focus attention on a single thing—a particular idea, situation, emotion, problem, observation, etc. —the sonnet gets to its point quickly and efficiently, with beauty and charm of form or expression.

The Shakespearean (or English) sonnet and the Petrarchan (or Italian) sonnet are the two most prevalent versions of this form today.
A Shakespearean sonnet or English sonnet is written in one stanza composed of three rhymed quatrains (each making one point in a three-step argument) , followed by a rhyming couplet that summarizes the argument
A Petrarchan sonnet or Italian sonnet is composed of an octet followed by a sestet with a variable rhyme scheme. The octet presents the poem’s theme or problem, while the sestet offers a change or a resolution. In its traditional form, this sonnet never ends in a couplet.
Robert Frost was popular at Petrarchan form of sonnets.
sonnet’s formal requirements (14 lines of iambic pentameter with a specific rhyme scheme) , method (a strong focus on one subject) , and goals (persuasion, surprise, balance) ,
Ref: www.poetry.com/techniques/form of poetic expressions.

Thank You

poem by Seema Aarella
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Ode To You...

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect
and guide their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach
their children the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are
lodged in the birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

(dde) ...........To You...

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

For One And All

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

For...One And All

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Here's To You...

Ode, to those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

This...Is Life

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

To Those Of You That Do...

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

To You...

Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.

Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.

Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.

Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.

Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.

Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.

Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?

Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.

Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.

Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.

Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.

Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.

poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Ode to Halloween

I am new to writing poems and I hope I can learn from all of you.
By the way, I learned how to write this kind of poem because of
An Ode to Christmas. Thank you very much!
An Ode to Halloween
When you see a child
In a costume scary and wild
You know it is Halloween.

When kids go trick-or-treats
And get lots and lots of sweets
You know it is Halloween.

When the trees give up their yellow leaves
And the dead give back their R.I.P.s
You know it is Halloween.

An Ode to scrumptious snacks
An Ode to skeletons that clack

An Ode to Dracula
An Ode to tarantulas
An Ode to Halloween

An Ode to the year’s best time
An Ode to clocks that chime
An Ode to Halloween

poem by Andy Jin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Many Incidents Intended

Many incidents intended,
Has evidence as incentive.
But no one pays attention...
Or listens to what's being said,
To what is being mentioned.

These speeding times leave minds behind.

Many incidents intended,
Has evidence as incentive.
But no one pays attention...
Or listens to what's being said,
To what is being mentioned.

These speeding times leave minds behind.
These speeding times leave minds behind.

Many incidents intended.
But no one pays attention...
Or listens to what's being said,
To what is being mentioned.

Many incidents intended.

Many incidents intended.
But no one pays attention...
Or listens to what's being said,
To what is being mentioned.

Many incidents intended.
Many incidents intended.
Many incidents intended.

These speeding times leave minds behind.

Many incidents intended.
Many incidents intended.
Many incidents intended.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ode To Cheese

☺ .
Ode To Cheese,
Which Makes Us Smile,
When Camera's go Clack.
Ode To Cheese,
Which make us taste,
The greatest of flavors, the wackiest of whack.
Ode To Cheese,
Blue, Gorgonzola,
American and Cheddar.
Ode To Cheese,
Beja and Feta,
In all types of weather.
Ode To Cheese,
For those on a diet,
or trying to get fatter.
Ode To Cheese,
with crackers and wine,
with grapes can flatter.
Ode To Cheese,
when you're sad and happy,
Cheese just fits.
Ode To Cheese,
Mountains and Mountains,
or bits and bits.

Ode to the Cheese,
To appreciate,
eat,
and take pictures.

poem by Life Poem
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Ode to Christmas

When you see lovely lights
Of greens, reds, and whites
You know it is Christmas Time

When snow falls down from the skies
Soft and thick it lies
You know it is Christmas Time

When you hear Christmas jingles
And your skin begins to tingle
You know it is Christmas Time

An Ode for the scent of pine
An Ode to the dainty decorations that are so divine
An Ode to Christmas Time

When you get rosy cheeks
And children dash with squeals and shrieks
You know it is Christmas Time

When the young and old sit in front of the fire and come together
To get away from the cold weather
You know it is Christmas Time

When you warm up with your sweet heart
Unable to keep apart
You know it is Christmas Time

An Ode to Hot Chocolate with marshmallows
An Ode to the Jolly fellows

An Ode to Santa Claus
An Ode to decking the halls
An Ode to Christmas Time

poem by Bronti Phillips
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Urceus Exit

Triolet

I INTENDED an Ode,
   And it turn'd to a Sonnet
It began a la mode,
I intended an Ode;
But Rose cross'd the road
   In her latest new bonnet;
I intended an Ode;
   And it turn'd to a Sonnet.

poem by Henry Austin Dobson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet

My friend and me
My friend and me
Looking through her red box of memories
Looking through her red box of memories
Faded Im sure
Faded Im sure
But love seems to stick in her veins you know
But love seems to stick in her veins you know
Yes, theres love if you want it
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
Yes, theres love if you want it
Yes, theres love if you want it
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
Yes, theres love if you want it
My lord
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
My lord
Why cant you see
That nature has its way of warning me
Eyes open wide
Why cant you see
Looking at the heavens with a tear in my eye
That nature has its way of warning me
Eyes open wide
Yes, theres love if you want it
Looking at the heavens with a tear in my eye
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
Yes, theres love if you want it
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
Yes, theres love if you want it
My lord
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
Yes, theres love if you want it
Sinking faster than a boat without a hull
Dont sound like no sonnet, my lord
My lord
My lord
Dreaming about the day when I can see you there
My side
By my side
Sinking faster than a boat without a hull
My lord
Here we go again and my head is gone, my lord
Dreaming about the day when I can see you there
I stop to say hello
My side
cause I think you should know, by now
By my side
By now

[...] Read more

song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!