All Thru The Night (Busta Sonnetto)
All thru the night she can hear beat of her heart
No one to share with what she can yet just feel
In the middle of the night you can hear her cry
His betrayal hurts her like daggers of steel
Probing her his love wasn’t true from the start.
In the silent of night she feels round the cold
Like mad driven horses her thoughts can’t seem stop
Some dreams reduced to ashes now dead on floor.
She’s now aware that his love was false a flop.
The coldness of his heart only makes hers scowl.
She covered in blood love at her feet lays dead
All thru the night she tastes love’s bitter sting
Her pain flows but her cry hides within her sigh.
Pushing her nightmare away she leaves her bed.
April,22,2014
Pasted from http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-thru-the-night-busta-sonnetto/
This form is based on the Envelope Quintet, and comprises of two quintets and one quatrain in any order. Three versions come to mind with perhaps the inclusion of a repeat line or lines, that I’m sure any innovative poet can have a lot of fun with. Shown below is the first idea the Teagan De Danaan played around with.
All Things Must End
How lonely is the night, without a companion
She shares her life with the day, now asleep
Yet whilst she sleeps, he opens half a world
And during her vigil has been unable to peep,
Covered with a blanket, and a different opinion.
With the first sign of day you hear welcome calls
And all forms of life burst forth with joyous sound
That night has done her best to see unfurled.
So some politics would claim the same around
That only day should grace their hallowed walls.
I wonder how long they would last without a night
And the pleasure that a short hibernation creates;
Lying in bed asleep sharing your time as mates
A comfortable partner, sharing beliefs and rights?
Teagan De Danaan
Note: Although this example is shown as two quintets and a quatrain, because it is a SONNET it should be presented as a 14 line Stanza!
Pasted from http://thepoetsgarret.com/2013Challenge/form21.html
Unsated cravings trail over my skin
Demanding senses to embrace the fire
No words of love are left on my pillow
When no time is left to simply admire
The tendrils of wanting that tease within
Each eager touch a temptation of fate
As kisses melt like honey in the heat
In trashy cheap hotel rooms slicked in dust
Tasting musky sweat is nevermore sweet
When the heart is left out of a date
And as the sunlit drapes softly billow
The cash is given for cracks of willow
And welted skin a symbol of trust
As once again I give in to my lust
Cruel Mother.—- Busta Sonetto.
A baby screams within a mothers gloom
When all she asks was moments to cease
Why oh why does this depression exist
When a child torment shall only increase
Screams shall echo within a silent room
But manic depression shall often follow
No matter who or what is likely to blame
Cursed words that unwind within a twist
Turns the hearts of innocence to shame
A brutal remark is a hard act to swallow
When a babies livelihood is soon at stake
Shall an innocent bystander turn her eyes
What may happen next I can only surmise
The threats of a mother shall be of fake.
Pasted from http://tirnanogthelandoftheeverliving.yuku.com/topic/33795#.VLhU8EfF9qU
Terry Clitheroe
All Hallows….Busta Sonetto
In the still of the night as I wander dark halls
I still sense a movement in time with mine.
I stop and listen curious about what it could be
But all seems still here everything feels fine
As I pass darkness’ hidden pictures on the walls.
But as much as I stop and listen it evades me
No Earthly form could be here this special night
No spirit either for they to have been distracted
And all forms but me have taken a special flight
Then I hear a noise, curious, what can it be
Then I smell it near, to me it’s been attracted
Now I see it moving, a shadow on the wall
Moving closer, I see a sight that would appall
My heart stops, from life I’ve been subtracted
Pasted from http://thepoetsgarret.com/2013Challenge/form21.html#me
My thanks to thepoetsgarret for their on-going work.
Busta Sonnetta specifications re-stated.
The defining feature of this sonnet is the fact that it consists of two quintets and one quatrain in any order.
It should be framed as a quatorzain.
It is generally written in iambic pentameter, but not mandated.
It is generally written with envelope rhyme within each stanza.
Refrain lines are permitted.
My example
Not seeing any poets take the option of putting the quatrain between the two quintains, I decided to do so. Conventionally the volta of a poem, occurs when the rhyme pattern changes. That gave me the option of making the “turn” occur at either L5 or L10.
My Special Dime (Busta Sonnetto)
I always had an extra dime with me,
It was a dime my mother called my spare.
Not ever did I spend that special dime.
Mom sewed it in my coat and showed me where.
Then big kids couldn’t take that coin you see.
I knew I could call home at anytime
if mis-adventure ever came my way.
That hidden coin made everything okay,
That’s comfort to a youth that’s quite sublime.
Today the cell-phone, acts as folk’s life-line,
and nowhere will a phone booth now be found
but there were plenty of them in my day
except where I went playing with my hound
and mother knew that he could watch me fine.
© Lawrencealot – March 7, 2015
Visual Template
(Showing just a few of the hundreds of possible rhyme patterns.)
