17 Sep

here is my latest installment of verse from my intro to verse class, It is a sonnet, written in strict imabicpatameter, in the Italian scheme. I hope you enjoy. 

I think I’m over thinking, I’m teeming. 

My mind just swims in some ceramic clay thought, 

My poetic unhingedness, weary and wrought.

Theories shimmer, and flicker out, beaming, 

and there are days, thoughts invade my dreaming. 

Ephemeral porcelain shatters when sought,

Like Chinese made toys when they’re freshly bought.

Teeming with meaning, I’m not done scheming.

Butter, batter, what is the matter?

Meditation station concentration.

Textile weaving, with porcelain’s deceiving.

Shatter, chatter, disasters make flatter.

Rumination started with creation,

and my mindless teething sent me seething.


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