A wounded creature, I circle the pack;
A laggard seeking inroads, missing cues;
A social wanna be without the smack –
This fogged state a waning of my hues.
My path a heartless road through blinding snow,
And I without a map or coat, alone –
To ask for help, a degradation – No!
Tis arrogance and stubbornness I own.
I’ll bide my time on sidelines crying ill,
Bemoan this wretched fate and limp along;
Til self-indulgence wears thin, then I will
By humble act, declare I do belong.
And in the end no consequence is worse:
Than mulish woman bearing no self-worth.
(This modest attempt at iambic pentameter is brought to you by the promptings of Frank at dVerse. Â Hope it wasn’t too painful.)
Oh, we can all be mulish at times!
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Good to know. Thanks
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Well done,, rhyming is a great release from the freedom of free verse!!
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It feels so strange…
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This is so well done!
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Thank you!
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I agree with another comment above, very descriptive but your writing also has such a sense of sophistication, I love it!! x
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What a lovely compliment – thank you.
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Sonnets are difficult to write but you did a fine job with the form.
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Thanks LuAnne – it took some thinking for sure.
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I love how you made it come together… a great sonnet, and wonderful metaphor… and just like you should expect the closing lines packs a punch…
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Thanks Björn – a first attempt, and I enjoyed it.
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Our weaknesses tend to make us strong in other ways and circling the pack gives us a different perspective. Many of us become writers – sometimes out of pure stubbornness – and that’s perfect; the world needs writers to keep the balance, something I often lack ;). I love the lines:
‘My path a heartless road through blinding snow,
And I without a map or coat, alone…’
and
‘Bemoan this wretched fate and limp along;
Til self-indulgence wears thin, then I will
By humble act, declare I do belong’.
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Thanks Kim. Writing certainly helps.
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Strength and its flipside. I haven’t seen you write so angrily before. It’s got a force to it, this poem.
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Oh dear, Sarah. It was tongue-in-cheek, but there is so much frustration in being fully dependent on others, with a disease the doesn’t loosen its grip. Just moaning, lol.
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That last line pack a punch. So true. So true.
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Thank you.
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You are a strong woman! And a wonderful sonnet form too! Thanks for joining in.
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Thanks, Grace. Appreciate the encouragement.
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O, I know you, poet voice! Yours is the voice of my mother. Most of my family, really. I’m so glad I’ve dodged the family curse (Eee! Ahhh!), ahem.
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Hahaha.
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🙂
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The metaphor is fabulous! Bravo!
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Thanks Jilly!
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not wanting to seem weak, not asking for help but crying inside – you take words and spin them into deep truths
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Thanks, Gina. Needing others is difficult when independence has been part of self-worth.
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I can identify with that, i went through some painful physical limitations and asking for help did not come easy for me so I suffered in silence rather than seen to be weak – very good writing VJ
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A great way to weave this together. Self-deprivation is a curse none of us need bring upon our self.
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it’s a curse, for sure. Thanks, Dwight.
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Rhyme always makes me silly too; nice job though on the prompt. You join Bjorn & Kim in the sonnet club tonight; cool. Being disabled, I remind myself that when you striike the D’s, you’re left with is able.
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Good one, Glenn. Strike the d’s. Thanks.
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These lines are very descriptive: “My path a heartless road through blinding snow,
And I without a map or coat, alone –” Nice sounding sonnet!
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Thanks, Frank. Rhyme always makes me silly.
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