In college, I endeavored to write a sonnet a week. The process soon proved tiresome. This was my final entry in the series.
Thinking he has killed the hero of the story, the Black Knight delivers an impromptu soliloquy filled with regret and disappointment.
As a fan of Edgar Rice Burroughs, I took upon myself the task of summarizing the first few chapters of his epic novel.
One morning while at college, I was lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling when a spider caught my attention. This is that story in sonnet form.
These are not my sentiments. Feeling downtrodden by the shame my professors expressed toward their own country, I decided to satirize their woes in a sonnet.
This is a sonnet that I wrote with the hope of avoiding accusations of sentimentality, knowing full well that I’m a sentimental fellow.
If you’ve ever hurt yourself while consuming food, this poem is for you.
