"Merry Company" by Gerrit van HonthorstPoetry Challenge: Write a Sonnet in Iambic Monometer The Society March 2, 2021 Poetry, Poetry Contests, Poetry Forms 102 Comments . This challenge was conceived by Paul A. Freeman after reading a sonnet in iambic monometer by James A. Tweedie, “Allergies.” Mr. Freeman’s example is below. Make your own and post it in the comments section below! . An Aging Poet’s Lament by Paul A. Freeman My mind these days can’t find always good rhymes to write. Sometimes I might pen weak rhyme words that reek like turds. __Though versed, __I’m cursed. . . NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 102 Responses Mike Bryant March 2, 2021 I had to take up this challenge! Brave New World or OK, Doomer When weather Has come Together In some Disaster, It’s climate- No master Can rhyme it. Now, science Is hate. Compliance Is fate. The ‘Doomers’ Blame ‘Boomers’ Reply Becky Fitch March 2, 2021 L;ve these and will take up the challenge myself as I need to write a poem before tomorrow evening Reply Allegra Silberstein March 2, 2021 Freeman’s poem is a delight …especially the ending, Reply Paul Freeman March 2, 2021 Thank you, kindly. The poem came in a flash, but unfortunately those flashes are few and far between. Reply Becky Fitch March 3, 2021 Especially in lockdown! So thanks for the challenge. Julian D. Woodruff March 2, 2021 To write My lines So tight!– The signs Of strain Are clear To all, I fear. Should I Expand And try A brand Of verse Less terse? Reply Julian D. Woodruff March 4, 2021 Signs of strain are all too clear, I’d say. The best I can do (not that great) by way of correction: … The signs Of strain, I fear, On brain Are clear … Reply Maurice DeLivre March 2, 2021 What is your opinion on this sonnet? I just saw this challenge and thought about writing the form for the first time. Arrows of Plague By Maurice DeLivre Apollo Had sent Arrows With intent To rain Sickness And pain. To bless Mankind For their sin And wrong mind. Through his plague Thus we ache. Reply Troy Camplin March 2, 2021 So far Away Will play The star On par With day. Relay This bar, This poem, This strange Attractor Whose phloem Arrange This actor. Reply Jeff Eardley March 2, 2021 I yearn At night To learn To write But rhyme Is nought When time Is short And so The muse I’ll go And use I’ll start With “art” Then “heart” And “fart” Reply BRIAN YAPKO March 2, 2021 This is a very tough challenge! Here’s my attempt: The Ghost What sprite All night Must haunt And taunt This room? Of doom He groans And moans. I toss Quite cross Then shake Awake To see It’s me. Reply Sally March 2, 2021 Writer’s Cramp .A year I fear Since shade Fell here. Below The stair Parade Of chairs, A row Of rare Wine there. No poems I write Approach The light. Reply jd March 27, 2021 There us light here. I know the feeling. Reply Anna J Arredondo March 2, 2021 Defeatist My friend, I fear The end Is near. Since I May fall, Why try At all? Why break My heart? I’ll take No part. That’s it — I quit. Reply C.B. Anderson March 3, 2021 This is one of the best posted here. The hardest part about monometer is keeping the syntax and the narrative in orderly standard English. Reply Anna J Arredondo March 3, 2021 Thank you, C.B! Susan Jarvis Bryant March 3, 2021 Anna, I love it! You inspired mine! Reply jd March 27, 2021 I like it too! Reply Angel L Villanueva March 2, 2021 Sonnets Give birth To words Of worth In thirds, And end your verse well penned And terse; But not With prose That’s fraught With throes. Use rhyme Sublime. Reply jd March 27, 2021 Good one! Reply Jarek March 2, 2021 He passed Away That day, So fast. Aghast, I may now pray my last, For his shall be the bliss while we do miss him. See? Reply C.B. Anderson March 3, 2021 I like this mini-Petrarchan. Reply Daniel Kemper March 2, 2021 Time on the Tip of the Tongue A steady lip, a heady sip: the whiskey is no risk to his old tongue, but burns the young whose turns go past so fast. (Rhymes broken over lines written in the most readable, if not the “most correct” way.) Reply C.B. Anderson March 3, 2021 It’s your choice, Daniel, how you will go about solving this sort of problem. I’ve seen it done both ways, by some rather notable poets. Reply Paul Freeman March 3, 2021 Journey’s End A ship my eyes viewed dip and rise, its sails unpinned in gales of wind, on seas that smote with ease the boat. Men fated – Death sated. Reply Sarban Bhattacharya March 3, 2021 Liberals’ Love for Free Verse No rhyme They pen That’s crime, Say men, Libtards Like farce, And nerds Free verse. Meter Is strange Bitter It’s range. Tough game For them. Reply Maurice DeLivre March 3, 2021 The Words By Maurice DeLivre A word So curt When heard It hurts. Like a knife Words send men To strife Again. A careless Word breaks A heart’s mess When spake. When we speak, Pain we wreak. Reply C.B. Anderson March 3, 2021 Canceled Possibilities The knowns Are but The bones Of what Should be, And ifs, A sea Where skiffs Will ride The swell Of tide Where Hell Destroys Good boys. Reply Paul Freeman March 3, 2021 Bad Hair Day For thee scalp itch can be a bitch. You shed dandruff; it’s said that’s rough. But this grim state I miss of late. Please spare some hair! Reply Joe Tessitore March 3, 2021 I Herd … Grouchy * the Ghoul Follows no rule. Doctor of Lies, He takes the prize. Satan he courts, Truth he aborts. I wonder why? Breathe free or die. * a nod to C.B. Anderson Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant March 3, 2021 Swoon The moon Unfurls. A bloom Of pearls Ignites The sky, Excites My eye, With beams So bold In dreams Untold… Of you… In blue. Reply Beverly S Stock March 3, 2021 Lovely! Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant March 3, 2021 Thank you, Beverly! C.B. Anderson March 3, 2021 Nicely put, Susan, with superb thematic integrity. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant March 3, 2021 Thank you, C.B., much appreciated. jd March 27, 2021 Yes, beautiful. Reply Mia May 19, 2021 I absolutely love this poem Reply ray boyd May 20, 2021 In love am I. ‘White dove’, I sigh, ‘Where are the blooms Ishtar’s perfumes might fill to tempt her will’? Preempt the No I know. All praise to the Goddesses Evan Mantyk March 3, 2021 The CCP (Chinese Communist Party) Is Easily The C- CP is eas- ily our great- est foe. (I hate it so.) It’s tied its strings to Bid- en’s wings— It loves Such doves. Reply C.B. Anderson March 3, 2021 It would be funny, Evan, if it weren’t so chilling and true. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant March 3, 2021 Evan, edgy, scary and effective! Reply James A. Tweedie March 4, 2021 Evan, My favorite of the lot so far. Reply Roy E. Peterson March 14, 2021 “The CCP is easily” The greatest threat that I can see.” Evan, There is no doubt in my mind the linkage with the “great pretender” doubled their own perception of power along with those of us like you who understand the gravity of the situation. Your poem is an accurate reflection of the current most dangerous external threat. You are both wise and poetically adept! Reply jd March 27, 2021 Yes! Reply James A. Tweedie March 3, 2021 In Any Language One, two, Three, four, Je tu Amore. A bee, A fish, Ich Lie- Be dich A dove, A cow, I love You now It’s true, I do. Reply jd March 27, 2021 Enjoyed! Reply Joe Tessitore March 3, 2021 The fix Is in. Biden Will win So place Your bets And pass The gin. Reply Anne Hiltner March 3, 2021 Dear Joe I know you read your mail but why don’t you answer a plea from jail? Reply Beverly S Stock March 3, 2021 Pan Cakes Some just Dream of Cake and Others Bake it happen. I don’t bellyache instead I try to make no bake pan cakes. I kneed the dough. Reply jd March 23, 2021 Love the clever ending, Beverly, and the other flipped phrases. I don’t really know the rules of the form or the rules on this forum but if the form demands (?) two syllables per line, complaint would work. (Can you tell I’m one of those rule- freaks?) jd Reply Joseph S. Salemi March 3, 2021 Adam Sedia, what hast thou wrought? Reply ray boyd March 4, 2021 May I be part of why the heart of those who sing, Who chose to cling to song to right all wrong, can plight all truth, all ruth. , Reply ray boyd March 4, 2021 Out there so few who care to do what needs to be. Those deeds that we have seen as right. I ween to fight is not their lot Reply Julian D. Woodruff March 4, 2021 I sing aloud from cloud nine. Bring me back to earth, though mirth there’s slack. (I’ve al- so tried cloud ten— unmol- lified again.) Reply John Freeborn March 4, 2021 How can my rhyme attain and climb the lof- ty height of grand- eur’s light? And how illume the time- spun tomb, save if I trace the mas- ters’ grace? Reply BDW March 4, 2021 The Beast by Bud “Weasel” Rice “Adam,,,what hast thou wrought?” —Joseph Salemi Like as an S. he has finesse, and bides the dawn; he hides his yawn. But snabs a stray, and grabs the day… to feast— the Beast! Reply jd March 27, 2021 Good one! So many possible subjects. Reply Joseph S. Salemi March 4, 2021 BDWhatever He can’t compose to save his nose — not verse and not a line of prose. All he can do is preen and pose, count syll- ables as read- ers doze… and still he comes ici and crows. Reply BDWhatever March 5, 2021 Ah, Swami Salemi hath ope’d his jaw, excoriatingly. He doth not like my mono sonnet’s ess apparently. He spouts out cancel culture trash. He states I cannot write, “not verse and not a line of prose”. Doth he believe his tripe? I usually don’t join in such kinds of activities—it’s not my thing. But something about the form, its shape, and how it compared to iambic heptameter, appealed to me; and as I leaned back in my chair, I began composing. The form reminded me of a snake, and so became my topic. [By the way, the reason I became a literary critic, over two decades ago, was because my poetry has continually been rejected and attacked. It seems one must continually explain one’s motives and one’s art in this era.] Anyway, the snake grew; and it was quite an enjoyable composition. Of course, there were turns and slides along the way; but, as it is a short poem, it was over and done with rather quickly. At this point in time, I prefer the tennos and dodeca, as allowing for more expansion, but avoiding prolixity. Anyway, here was that “sonnet”. Like as an S. he has finesse, and bides the dawn, he hides his yawn. But snabs a stray, and grabs the day… to feast— the Beast! I really enjoyed writing the first quatrain, with its surprising simile embedded in the simplest words, but for the last “finesse”, the lone two-syllable word in the poem, a technique nicely practiced by Emily Dickinson (who was in my mind, as I composed). In the second quatrain, in the process of making the poem, I went through so many phrases, I could not list them all, though the rhymes were secured. The second quatrain, in similar simplicity, moves with two verbs and their objects. Perhaps the picture is unappreciated by the dozing reader, and yet I found the elementary phrasing pleasing to my taste. Moving to the sestet, I was torn between two possible 3rd quatrains: “But snabs/ a stray,/ and grabs/ the day…” where an onomatopoetic neologism, suggesting sna…[ke] is used and Horace’s commonly phrased cliché is semi-disguised, led by an abrupt “But” indicating the quickness of the snake’s bite… or the more ordinary process “to squeeze/ a stray,/ and seize/ the day…” Finally, the couplet suggests a wider meaning, that I thought could be aided by Mr. Salemi’s clipped quote. Actually, because he seems offended? perturbed? when the poem is next published, I shall drop his last name, and simply attribute the quote to Joseph S. Reply Joseph S. Salemi March 5, 2021 When your poem “is next published”? Dream on, Brucie. That’ll be the day. James A. Tweedie March 5, 2021 Bruce, As you say, I must have been dozing. BDW March 6, 2021 Old Rip Van Tweedie, living near the weedy, sandy dunes, I must admit I did not know that he was dozing too. BDW March 17, 2021 Did I forget to post this on March 12, 2021, or was I simply cancelled again, like Theodore Seuss Geisel? I did change one item of “The Beast” when the poem was “next published” on March 12th 2021, I changed the quote’s attribution to “Swami Salami”, as only seems appropriate. jd March 27, 2021 It’s “ici” that throws me off due to ignorance, I guess. The rest rings clear and true. Reply A. K. March 27, 2021 “Ici” is “here” in French. 🙂 Sometimes I find myself using what little French I know just because the syllables are different and I enjoy the sound better! Haha! Such as “avec” rather than “with.” ray boyd March 5, 2021 Will two still do? One more? None? Four? Pick nix? Tick six? Now how? Reply Julian D. Woodruff March 5, 2021 Rather than diminishing, as Mr. Boyd has done, I thought of expanding: iambic monometer all with feminine .. excuse me! … weak endings. Why didn’t I realize the thing would be in essence dactylic, with an initial anacrusis? Scary Pair It’s Biden and Harris— I’m hidin’! Embarras- sing faces demeaning high places— I’m keening! The pair just pursue their ambitions; we’re there just to rue their decisions. Reply ray boyd March 5, 2021 You there who cares! May I say Hi? Then ask when task wit fits? Reply ray boyd March 6, 2021 Which laws pitch pause? How few now due? Wie sehr me dear be clear Reply Julie Desmond March 6, 2021 Emboldened (Alone on a Winter Trail) When skis Bemoan March breeze Has thrown Glass swill Across The hill You toss Your gaze Admire The haze Inspired Recall Your place And fall With grace The snow Will know Reply Paul Freeman March 6, 2021 End Game (or Not) Our fun, Ray Boyd, is done. We toyed with words that flew like birds. A few soared high – each foot. Now I shall put this thread to bed. Reply Frank De Canio March 6, 2021 Video Lover I see you must hate me, or just for fun, you put it in, then out again. Don’t tease my friend, but please be kind – rewind! Reply ray boyd March 6, 2021 My task? In touch to ask how much to post? What is the most? This quiz is so by this I know and miss slips, plus the fuss thanks … bye … loved the experiment Reply Ryan Watch March 7, 2021 Roses Roses Divine Roses Are fine. Like lips That kiss, That drips With bliss. Roses red Are souls That spread Love whole. Thus, the rose Proposes. Reply Mia March 7, 2021 Lockdown woes No longer free, I must wear mask, sanitiser, gloves, a visor, No contact Pass by Cross over the street stay back Take jab or stay indoors No travel Cover face Bare arm can’t See why Or where To go eyes sting tears stream Too late To turn Back To protest Muzzled Puzzled I write To reach The light Envious Of birds That chirp And fly but I am, I think I am, still alive I am not sure if this conforms, in fact feel certain it doesn’t, but it worked in getting my thoughts down on the current situation. Monometer by me is a bit monotonous… so I am especially in awe of all the joyous poems here, so good to read. thank you all. Reply Sasha A. Palmer March 9, 2021 Redbirds The trees – still bare, yet “leaves,” the glare of which can blind, bewitch the mind, adorn the snow. This morn I know: they sing – it’s spring. Reply Lucia Haase March 26, 2021 This is beautiful. Reply jd March 27, 2021 Yes, I agree. Reply Andre Peltier March 9, 2021 A Sonnet in Some Monometer Lines To sing of spring and all the things. So soon the blooms will fill our rooms. The pet- als shed and then we fret. Autumns a bum. Reply Rohini Sunderam March 10, 2021 These are all so good, but here goes: They said: “It’s love,” She said. “Not love,” He said. “Above,” She read. “All else I dread.” “It’s false” He said “Your fault I bled.” She said. He said. Reply Roy E. Peterson March 14, 2021 The Bee in the Beehive By Roy E. Peterson The bee In the Beehive Was not Alone. He was Just one Of the Bees, and They called Him, “Drone.” “Come Drone, I need Something Said the Queen Bee. I want You to Give me A taste Of your Honey.” Drone took A dab From the Honey Filled comb That was Contained In the Buzzing Sweet home. He flew To the Queen Bee To give Her the Honey. Made from A rose Out where It was Sunny. As he Waited In line To serve Honey With Drones He thought He would Change his Name to Ramon. Reply Jan Darling March 17, 2021 THOUGHT SPORT. Jan Darling Your dreams Are lost In schemes Embossed With tears You shed And fears You dread. Your heart Beats still Then starts To chill. All sound Is drowned. But hear! The sound Of cheer Is found. Your thought was lost not chilled with frost. Free now To sing You vow To wring From storm Reform. Reply Mia March 18, 2021 Tried so much to write something happy or funny but managed the opposite. tragic The crescent Moon winks, smiles and smirks, bares its sharp pointed blades the enemy stalks its prey and waits for thick velvet darkness to wield the sickle, a fragile rose weeps a lone star dims, a flash of red leaps to reap the spoils of war Reply Mo March 19, 2021 Ha! You snagged me with this challenge. 2021 A time To flip Our world And now We have Gone on To “1984.” Report The news As per Their views. No facts To weigh Them down. So sad They get Their way Until It will One day Be much Too late. Reply jd March 22, 2021 Iambic Monometer Sonnet I like the form but would prefer as start, a tome with hints that comb the rules – para meters would help this a- meteur. Reply Mo March 22, 2021 How ’bout the sonnet.. We seek What’s true “News” speak No clue Away! They lied With truth Denied Respect Is gone Inspect Those pawns Reveal What’s real Reply Christopher Buckley March 23, 2021 Trenched Through dark A glass, I hark And pass, To days Before These ways Of war. Shimmer That pool. Dimmer And cruel. It dies. As I… Reply Niece de Bruce March 24, 2021 Tonight I found this site around My search, Unwise! Research Bruce Wise. My dad’s sibling, his adds quibbling and verse perverse! Reply J D Wallace March 25, 2021 A Novice Poet’s Retort Paul’s poem query makes me weary. While words escape to big to make. Each quick attempt I do resent. Cast out Freeman You are Demon. Reply Mike Bryant March 25, 2021 Great communication, Professor. Reply J D Wallace March 25, 2021 Much appreciated, but give my students credit as well. I needed a diversion from their essay exams. Paul Freeman March 28, 2021 Bwah, ha, ha! Reply Abby March 25, 2021 I write a rhyme with slight/ no time. I have no gift for half or fifth of a meter that’s a beater in this challenge. Reply Lucia Haase March 26, 2021 This world I see unfurled for me becomes my pen that drums of when I think or swim or drink of whim. By Light, I write. Reply jd March 27, 2021 I like it. Reply Lucia Haase April 12, 2021 Thank you! jd March 27, 2021 I like it. Reply Mia March 27, 2021 Inspired by ici and avec as you can see, after all if I can’t write something noteworthy in iambic monometer why not write one in French, but tres jolie Ici avec moi bonjour bonne chance fromage de pain du vin bonheur mon chou bonsoir c’est tout desole Reply Ryan Watch March 28, 2021 Portrait of a Face A face Divine Is traced In lines. The strokes Intersects, Evokes, Reflects The face Clearer Than any Mirror. What we see Is artistry. Reply Ryan Watch March 28, 2021 I had such a pleasurable time writing these iambic monometers! By limiting the meter to just one feet, the challenge became a ingenious exercise to squeeze the creative ability of the poet. Having read the other different poems written by numerous talented poets, it makes my own seem like the work of an amateur. Dilettante How tough To write A task So rough. My peers Submit Their skits With cheer. The words I drew Are too Absurd And flat. That’s that! In the end though, I am glad to have participated in this challenge and learn a new poetic form in the process. Reply Lucia Haase April 12, 2021 Medieval Episode A cloud afloat may shroud the moat. The knight that sleeps finds light he keeps in dreams of her that seems a blur. His rhyme- Love’s time. Reply Becky Fitch April 13, 2021 This is so good as it makes brilliant use of the few syllables allowed and paints a good image at same time. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.