Peter's Probationary Poems - 5. Dream - Poetry Prompt 10 - Italian Sonnet

I can't decide if this is nightmare vs nice dream, or hell vs heaven. Although a nightmare can be hell, and a nice dream could be heaven.
I could also digress that sleep is the little brother of death, but I won't. In the end it makes me feel cautious. What will the night bring?
And roses become daffodils. lol

Peter, I doubt very much you will be headed anywhere but 'up' when that time comes. Your sonnet was a dark prayer but still a joy to behold.
tim

Peter, this is terribly good. The images you evoke are indeed terrifying, frightening and unsettling. Your prayer sounds perfectly heartfelt and a true heart's cry. How perfectly your write this, and you have my humble thanks for it.

"destined to anguish eternal distraught" ... I love this line. The whole sonnet reeks of power... like a battle for your soul. Your request at the end was bathed in desperation... once again, you blew me away, Peter. Despite staying within the confines of a form, you succeeded in taking me into your deliciously creepy dream from beginning to end... kudos... Gary...

I have a few things to point out/ask about:

vivid digesting as reawaken.

Oh Lord, I beseech Thee, when comes the time

destined to anguish eternal distraught.

You cheated on your rhymes, dear chap.
Yours are a-b-b-a-c-d-d-c-e-f-e-f-e-f.

Otherwise, well-crafted. Lovely words in good order with fascinating images from front to back and top to bottom.

On 01/25/2016 03:15 AM, aditus said:

I can't decide if this is nightmare vs nice dream, or hell vs heaven. Although a nightmare can be hell, and a nice dream could be heaven.

I could also digress that sleep is the little brother of death, but I won't. In the end it makes me feel cautious. What will the night bring?

And roses become daffodils. lol

Thank you for your review, Adi. I'm quite fond of finally having written something where roses can become daffodils. My job requires writing that can only be interpreted on way and it's difficult to let loose that ingrained habit. The problem with the prompt was, that I never dream, so I had to rely on hearsay. Sleep for me is nothingness untill the alarm clock wakes me.

On 01/25/2016 04:27 AM, Mikiesboy said:

Peter, I doubt very much you will be headed anywhere but 'up' when that time comes. Your sonnet was a dark prayer but still a joy to behold.

tim

Thank you, tim, for your kind words. Although it may not seem that way, I do not believe in a going down. The only thing I hope is there will be "something" and not the void I experience when asleep.

On 01/25/2016 04:59 AM, Parker Owens said:

Peter, this is terribly good. The images you evoke are indeed terrifying, frightening and unsettling. Your prayer sounds perfectly heartfelt and a true heart's cry. How perfectly your write this, and you have my humble thanks for it.

Thank you, Parker, for your praise. Writing this was a weird experience. I had struggled with several attempts, deleted them and started all over. Then this one almost took me by the hand. I hope that doesn't sound too woolly and vague. :-)

On 01/25/2016 07:17 AM, Headstall said:

"destined to anguish eternal distraught" ... I love this line. The whole sonnet reeks of power... like a battle for your soul. Your request at the end was bathed in desperation... once again, you blew me away, Peter. Despite staying within the confines of a form, you succeeded in taking me into your deliciously creepy dream from beginning to end... kudos... Gary...

Thanks, Gary, I appreciate your review very much. I need to use a dictionary regularly and was thrilled to discover that 'anguish' is not only a noun, but also a verb, which suited me very well. I'm happy I was able to convey the duality of feelings here.

On 01/25/2016 10:46 AM, Doctor Oger said:

I have a few things to point out/ask about:

vivid digesting as reawaken.

Did you mean 'reawakened'? I've really tried, but I can't make sense of this verse.

Oh Lord, I beseech Thee, when comes the time

Nothing wrong with that, per se, but it really jumps in your face with its sudden grand piousness right the middle of the poem.

destined to anguish eternal distraught.

At first (and second, and third...) I thought there was something wrong with this sentence. Until finally, already typing my comment on it, I realised these three words are supposed to describe one thing. As one meaning. In three words. Please excuse me. x]

 

You cheated on your rhymes, dear chap.

Yours are a-b-b-a-c-d-d-c-e-f-e-f-e-f.

 

Otherwise, well-crafted. Lovely words in good order with fascinating images from front to back and top to bottom.

I loved your review, many thanks.

I purposely used the infinitive 'reawaken'. What I tried to capture is the theory that dreams are by some seen as a means to digest in the unconscious mind the events of daily life. As to some dreams seem as vivid as real life I meant to say that in that dream state one has the experience as if awake again. The infinitive seemed a better means than the past participle, although maybe that is not gramatically correct.

AC said in his explanation of the Italian sonnet, that the pivot point occurs naturally by the shifting of the rhymes. I admit I helped it a bit, although it may seem more pious than I meant it. :-)

Your remark about cheating on the rhymes is, I must admit to my shame, quite correct. I was appalled by my blindness. It seems there should be another attempt, but then with the correct rhyming scheme.

Thanks for pointing it out, though.

The overall feeling I get from this poem is one of unease. I do like and appreciate the artful blending of the notion of sleep being a pseudo state of death, but it's a chilling concept.

I think you've met your goals very nicely with this poem, but one thing you may wish study for your next sonnet is how to make the quatrains more unit-like. There is no hard and fast rule, but usually the four lines make up one sentence, and breaking them down into small units of one or two lines weakens the internal structure of them. Try some exercises where you just form one sentence over the course of four lines (40 syllables!), and I know it's not easy; art never is.

I like this poem! I look forward to seeing more from your pen, Peter : )

On 01/29/2016 04:54 AM, AC Benus said:

The overall feeling I get from this poem is one of unease. I do like and appreciate the artful blending of the notion of sleep being a pseudo state of death, but it's a chilling concept.

 

I think you've met your goals very nicely with this poem, but one thing you may wish study for your next sonnet is how to make the quatrains more unit-like. There is no hard and fast rule, but usually the four lines make up one sentence, and breaking them down into small units of one or two lines weakens the internal structure of them. Try some exercises where you just form one sentence over the course of four lines (40 syllables!), and I know it's not easy; art never is.

 

I like this poem! I look forward to seeing more from your pen, Peter : )

Well, in the Christian tradition death is a pseudo state of sleep, isn't it, which makes it a lot less frightening.

I am working on making my lines more flowing and extended, which is exactly the opposite of what I was taught when learning my profession, where I was scolded for making my sentences too long and use a full stop more often :-)

Thanks for the uplifting review, AC. You woke up a part of me I didn't know was there and now doesn't want to go to sleep anymore.