Prompt #121
Sonnet
Hello.
Today…
we’re going to try something we haven’t done before. I really hope you’ll give it a try. Today, we’re going to write sonnets.
What is a sonnet? According to the Academy of American Poets, the definition is this:
Traditionally, the sonnet is a fourteen-line poem written in iambic pentameter, employing one of several rhyme schemes, and adhering to a tightly structured thematic organization.
No worries! We’re not writing sonnets using all of the traditional rules. We’re writing sonnets that only have one rule: fourteen lines.
So. Fourteen lines that tell a story.
Have you heard of the poet Diane Seuss? She won the Pulitzer, as well as a ton of other prizes, for her book of sonnets called frank:sonnets. I highly recommend this book! Here’s what The Rumpus had to say about it: “The experience of reading frank: sonnets feels very close to writing; it is a heady, intoxicating experience.”
Seuss takes great liberties with the form. This is from a Wikipedia page on her book:
Seuss' use of the sonnet form is innovative…. Traditionally using only fourteen lines, Seuss bends the sonnet form's constraint to produce poems that exceed this limit in formal and stylistic ways. Several poems contain lines that are longer than the page is wide, and are printed on folding pages.
Here are a few lines from the first sonnet in the book (none of the sonnets have titles):
I drove all the way to Cape Disappointment but didn’t
have the energy to get out of the car. Rental. Blue Ford
Focus. I had to stop in a semi-public place to pee
on the ground. Just squatted there roadside.
I don’t know what’s up with my bladder. I pee and then
I have to pee and pee again. Instead of sightseeing
I climbed into the back seat of the car and took a nap.
That’s half of the sonnet and it’s the rest of it that is just killer amazing. Trust me.
Anyway, the message is: Write what you want! Seuss wrote “sonnets” that don’t conform to any of the rules, really. I love rule breakers!
Here’s a sonnet that I wrote that breaks the traditional sonnet rules. It’s only a sonnet in that it’s fourteen lines:
RECOGNITION
All the kids I used to know, or didn’t know, the ones who came
to the reunion, checking name tags and even then not a spark
of recognition, though there was something that told me
they remembered me and the things I said or did, I am in debt
to anyone who tells me a story about myself like the time
Tina, whose last name is lost forever, told me I’d gotten on top
of a piano and sang a song in some bar in Portland, oh the things I did
or did not do, I remember mostly the latter, I could have been
a contender, but I didn’t have anyone in my corner, I didn’t
even have a corner at all, I spent half my life not knowing about
corners and the other half hoping to find one, and then I see
Glen, such a dork in tenth grade and now look at that woman
by his side, how did he find someone so pretty, anything’s possible,
two years later someone tells me that wasn’t his wife, but his daughter.
Well, that was fun! For me, anyway.
Okay, your turn!
TODAY’S PROMPT
Write a sonnet! Or a pseudo-sonnet.
My sonnet was about a high school reunion. Your sonnet can be about a high school reunion. Or a family reunion. Or a reunion with a friend or a group of friends. Or a reunion with something that was lost and has now be found.
Alternatively, write about a reunion that didn’t happen.
OR choose your own topic! Anything goes!
Your sonnet should be fourteen lines—that’s the only rule.
If you have trouble with this form, try just writing a paragraph and then playing around with the return button, dividing sentences into 14 lines.
That’s it. That’s the whole prompt. Four hundred words or less, please, in the Comments.


Dear Friends thank you for you kindnesses and best wishes last week.
For now his ashes wash north in the Deschutes, until meeting the Columbia,
Where they will turn west, following Lewis and Clark’s path to the sea.
An email from my brother, written from the depths of grief,
Tells of the pantry stocked with psilocybin mushrooms,
backpacks with sundry gear and nicotine gum, he never smoked.
One bed with a pillow but no pillowcase, a chair and table with a computer.
That’s it. All the lightbulbs changed to red, and the windows papered off.
Imagine a kitchen sink, a bathroom never cleaned, never.
But several competitive bicycles and thirty spare tires, tools to fix things in the garage.
A new pair of downhill skis and boots, unused last winter because of the drought.
If it had snowed, father and son had planned to ski. Too bad, but,
then my brother found the AK-47 in the closet, a box of ammo: Chilling!
He and his wife are looking forward to getting a new puppy tomorrow.
Alice at the Shelter
At the shelter this afternoon
Alice sits on the front steps
wrapped in a blanket,
barefoot,
eating a chicken Cup ‘o Noodles.
Her coloring book
and crayons and markers
lie beside her,
the crayons like a loose pile of matches
and the markers stacked like little logs of lumber,
her book open to a picture of a unicorn
with stars and streamers
and a banner across the top that says
Believe.
(Believe should be in italics but I am not able to format it that way. I wrote this as a prose poem a while ago and just adapted it for today's prompt.)