Wishing for Sonnet’s Death

The poetic form of the old sonnet,
Seems so useless and very out of date
No more do girls wear a fancy bonnet
And such should be iambic poems fate.

This savage poem cuts the brain for meat,
It pierces with sharp rhymes o’r fire to fry.
And dances ‘round to words that fiercely beat,
Until the life has left the page to die.

So throw the worthless prose into the fire
Stoke the flames to make it glow bright and hot
Chant until you’re dizzy with desire
Stab its tiny heart so it will live not.

We wish for death upon restrictive lines,
and forcing fourteen phrases into rhymes.

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This is being posted for Thursday Poets Rally, Week 16

A Brief Moment By The Fire


There was a brief moment
by the fire
when the two women
considered the unthinkable:

They wondered what would happen
if they tore off their constricting
dresses, corsets, underthings,
and tossed them in.

They would find themselves
standing there naked,
free,
watching the warm light
glow with the fabric fuel,
and ashes of their former life
flit up on the rising heat,
only to be stopped
by the ceiling.


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This is my first work for the Poetry Prompt MEME. I hope to keep participating and keep writing poetry.

I have just decided to join the meme: Thursday Poets’ Rally. Thanks to Jingle, I've already received the following awards!

April Love, April Shower Award

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You Are A Gem Award

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