Sonnets and Sonneteers wanted

[Alan Alda]

If what I said made you "cringe" you are a very delicate flower.
If you're just in 'like' with the notion anything I say can be twisted into sounding/feeling like a bitch-slap, that's internal, not external....but I'm sure you can get a chorus to agree if you'd like...still doesn't make it so. Can't say I didn't try.
(Twas you that mentioned my name, Mat.)

Ah, and thanks for remembering I had some haiku published. I carved one of them into clay just this afternoon...no such thing as a coincidence.

Yawn.
Laurie

[Cate]

Hi Laurie!!!!

It's so nice to see you. (I think that Mat missed you - I know I did.)

[Cate]

(this is my english translation, the original rhymes very well)

She bakes a humble pie for our dessert
the kind man from the circus tent told me
I to him that we do not mind humble dear sister
as we lack the wit and tools to make our own
I did not understand what else he said prior
something about cats being tamed in cages
but here have some of this bread and wine
and a piece of jerk left from the ride
I do think that I am very content this day
to be here beside you on this breaking morn
Oh brother look, the sun comes through so fair
Lets us not bother to wait for the offered pie
But move on as my heart feels so gay and free
and there will be plenty not humble where we head

What's this from Jack? it has a surrealistic dreamy quality to it.

[mat james]

Cate, yes, I did miss Laurie.

What's this from Jack? it has a surrealistic dreamy quality to it.

Cate.
Norm’s sonnet is a clever comment on the games we play on this poetry thread, or so it seems to me.

“...how the cart
anticipates the witless stalking horse?
The feign of outrage --seethingness-as-art--
adores its ill-effects.”

(Wow! Very succinct, Norman.)
The first line of Jack’s sonnet picks up the last line of Norm’s sonnet:

• She bakes a humble pie for your dessert. (Norm)
• She bakes a humble pie for our dessert (Jack)

Jack ends up moving on from the chopping block of humble pie and the lovely rescuers (You, I suppose).

“Lets us not bother to wait for the offered pie
But move on as my heart feels so gay and free
and there will be plenty not humble where we head”

As the puzzle unfolds, so does my smile.

MatbbgmephistoJ

[Alan Alda]

Hi Laurie!!!!

It's so nice to see you. (I think that Mat missed you - I know I did.)

Awww. Thanks Cate!

[lazariuk]

What's this from Jack? it has a surrealistic dreamy quality to it.

It's from the Romanian part of my mind where it was all rolling fields and moving from one town to the next. It is a part that makes Mat smile thinking of one more cup of coffee.

[Cate]

What a fantastic answer, I love it.
I wonder if I have any Romanian blood, I think there's a part of me that would like to travel over rolling hills and from town to town as well.


edited to curb myself a bit

[mat james]

I had some haiku published. I carved one of them into clay just this afternoon.

Laurie.
So which one did you carve into stone, Laurie?
Can you expand it into a sonnet ?

MatbbgJ

[lazariuk]

What a fantastic answer, I love it.
I wonder if I have any Romanian blood, I think there's a part of me that would like to travel over rolling hills and from town to town as well.

The blood might be a clue but you really need to know for yourself if you have the heart for it. I first left when I was 12 and left with two others. By dinner time they wanted to return. My cousin left at 12 as well and made it to Mexico.
At 15 I set out with 3 others and they only went a day or two and I was left on my own and then it got much better.

I guess that was nothing compared to the hill that met Jesus. It was a pretty big hill and he just wanted a little company but everyone was asleep. Everyone. Well maybe not everyone.

[Alan Alda]

I had some haiku published. I carved one of them into clay just this afternoon.

Laurie.
So which one did you carve into stone, Laurie?
Can you expand it into a sonnet ?

MatbbgJ

Well, since you asked, as of yesterday I have all five sitting on tiles. It was a time consuming process so my instructor let me take some slabs of clay home to finish up. Had enough clay left over to 'impress' (I'm using letter stamps) my fave Susan Sontag quote on a tile:
"Interpretation is the revenge of the intellect upon art"

(go figure) and to make a goofy looking swan-like thing out of the flattened clay...nope, no sonnets to be found...

[lazariuk]

What a fantastic answer, I love it.
I wonder if I have any Romanian blood, I think there's a part of me that would like to travel over rolling hills and from town to town as well.

The blood might be a clue but you really need to know for yourself if you have the heart for it.

So what I am trying to say is that if you get the urge you are more than welcomed to take my hand to see what part of it might be for you. The hills, not my hand. I'm not that Canadian.

[Cate]

I'm not that Canadian.

Yes you are

Thank you, Jack it's nice to know there's a hand waiting if the ground becomes uneven or I'm not feeling so very brave.