Fellow aspiring writers for 17 May 2013

I was heartened to receive a correspondence from someone I consider a good friend.  Their support since the early days of my literary journey is a heartening remembrance in those moments of weakness where you wonder why you do this.

They have been quiet as of late, because of the weather in their neck of the woods improving markedly.  The awesomeness of Spring, with the dreary colours finally being pushed into retreat by the new cycle of life, and the Sun’s promise of all the Vitamin D your body could possibly soak up, is a siren impossible to refuse.

Shadowoperator’s latest post dealt with a trio of Shakespearean sonnets, moving from the past through to the future.  There was a feeling of melancholy through each one, from wasted potential to inescapable torment to inevitable death.  From each, the thought of a friend is what shines as a beacon of cheer through the enveloping darkness.

The one thing noted as I read through was the poem structure: fourteen sentences of ten syllables each.  The ten is a nice round number to work to, but why fourteen lines?  Was there some cosmic force that bellowed “Fourteen lines there must be, young William!”?

Keeping to a somewhat melancholy tone, I had a go at a sonnet.  It encompasses the feeling I regularly have as both a family income earner and a parent.  As time continues on, we fall back into patterns we shunned when our parents taught us, saying that they were wrong.  As soon as we realise our grievous error of giving our parents’ life experiences little to no credit, life provides us with our own children, who do exactly as we did.  It really hits home when your own hair starts its turn to grey from parental stress.

As always, feedback welcomed and appreciated.  Don’t be shy =)



Life is a harsh and ironic master

We’re taught to consider others at all times

While seeing those who belittle others

To momentarily quell their own fears

Fitting into the molds of our forebears

We’re pushed out to an unforgiving world

To toil and perform for our daily crust

Attempting to teach our children better

To which they will highlight your weaknesses

To validate a repeat of mistakes

We know what the pending result will be

Yet they expect us to provide comfort

For our love of them we are persistent

Validated when their child does as they did


6 responses

  1. Nice sonnet. It’s very deep. It’s true, we all continue to make the same mistakes over and over. Each generation dislikes what their parents did, but they do the same thing, and their children go on to repeat it, and so on.

    1. Thanks for taking the time to read it =)

      I wonder if a hive mind would solve such a problem. I had a brain fart for a science fiction novel featuring an item called the ‘Empath’, where it made you take over another person, feeling their pain and knowing their thoughts. That’ll teach em for reading too much Philip K. Dick =P

      Hope all is well with you. Still enjoying your gig at ‘United We Game’?

      1. Yes, indeed I am. Hope all is well with you, um, as well. Lots of wells, there.

      2. More wells than a book of fairy tales =P

  2. Dear DJ, Thanks so much for featuring me on your site. I truly feel appreciated by your words, though I just now read them for the first time (Saturday, June 15) due to my not understanding that I needed to fill in your new web address in order to keep getting your site. As to your questions and speculations about the sonnet form, there are a couple of different rhyme schemes (there’s an English sonnet, and an Italian sonnet) and the meter is also usually set. Your poem is quite moving, but it challenges the traditional form of the sonnet. You have a gentle and soothing touch with the words in it, and the poem is very appealing. If you’re interested in finding out more about sonnets and maybe writing some more, you can find the so-called “rules” in any book about poetic schemes and meters. Hi, again, my friend. I’ve missed “hearing” your voice due to my own ignorance about computer stuff.

    1. Hi Doc! I chalked up your silence to the enjoyment of Spring finally arriving in your neck of the woods.

      I have not read any sonnets since analysing Shakespeare back in high school (almost fifteen years ago! *sigh*). The standard analysis was of the ‘Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day’ sonnet.

      I also missed your voice traversing the electronic aether and gracing my site =)

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