4/26/25: old and new

 Today's prompt. Sonnets are not usually my bag, but I may have something coming out one day that plays with the form. I googled Modern Sonnets and this collection came up, seems appropriate.

i won't believe the truth, not anymore.
old rapscallion! old line to my feelings,
modern mystery: efficiency, soar.
excalibur, a sword from stone's dealings.

pulled from the dirt, plastic imitations.
sold to the highest bidder. consider:
when and why and how. the intimations
nobility astoundingly slither.

hither and dither, snake without a face-
two headed, de-brained, and still dangerous.
one head is cruel, the other? a disgrace.
still made to look born in a manger. thus

a saint and sinner, but more the latter,
fed by its malice, still getting fatter.

Napo 4/27/24 I Too, Might As Well Sing America

Today's prompt invites us to write an American Sonnet. I have resisted baser instincts and tried to take this one seriously. 

Lost to the crack in a Liberty Bell. The cracks of time
lengthen from center to edges. Emma Lazarus has
been leaving messages about my extended warranty.
I'll tell you that I've never felt less free when opening
my mailbox to find the names of a previous resident. How
have they remained at large for so long? How, do I 
disappear entirely? "Neither a borrower nor a lender be"
said a man who would fit right in here, at the pulpit and 

on my answering machine. Saying nothing and
Everything. Schrödinger's Sentence. and
I am now and truly a boiling pot, water leaking 
out and shattering the ceramic stove top. 
I hold these truths to be self-incriminating.

I hold the tired, the wretched, the poor, the best,

the worst. Shaken, not stirred, with fervor. Ready for you.

April 9: Sonnet-fest 2023

 Napowrimo said to do this, so I played with sonnet forms. 

Shut up! I know the trash and sink are full.

I am not proud, I am making a point.

To have, to hold, make my nose out of joint.

The way that you push, the way I must pull.

I right and you wrong, sometimes the inverse.

Give me your worst, I too know your mettle.

I speak and you hear, a gift and a curse.

You give me that look, that’s how we settle.

Blah blah blah all the details invalid

I forget woes; I’ve made you a salad.

My words never spoken, all in my head

You give me more than whatever is said

The truth not withstanding, the fire is dead

And so we both eat and dispel the dread.

Cut rate Sonnets

Today’s prompt was a curtal sonnet-11 lines with the the last line being shorter.

I won’t pretend to ascertain the truth.

I believe in the words of my father.

To work everyday, to not be a bother.

To own my misdeeds and the times I’m uncouth.

Revisions of facts for a greater purpose.

All insistence aside, remain observant

For defections, despite words that are fervent.

We all set aside what is right, all in service.

To a higher power, but we don’t know it’s name.

The power unbidden, too bold to be tame.

Say it in jest, the meaning’s the same.