30 Days of Haiga 2016: Day 18: Harvest

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Copyright: natavkusidey / 123RF Stock Photo

Words by Gunnar Raven

Photoshop manipulation by The Real Cie

 

30 Days of Haiga 2016: Day 17: Shipwreck Shore

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Copyright: hardyuno / 123RF Stock Photo

Words by Gunnar Raven

Photoshop manipulation by The Real Cie

 

30 Days of Haiga 2016: Day 16: Weeping Moon

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Copyright: mpz / 123RF Stock Photo

Words by Gunnar Raven

Photoshop manipulation by The Real Cie

J is for Jeffreys Sonnet

Visit the Artist

Jeffreys Sonnet isn't necessarily about someone named Jeffrey. 

I'll start with mine, then you can read the description, and what is probably a better example.

Broken Brain

Is it only my heart that is

Broken into pieces and bits

Could it be that it's my soul too?

Or is it just my brain that cries?

Is it just that my brain tells lies?

Which make my heart think that it's blue

What's really true I don't know

For my mind tells lies to my soul

It's like an abusive lover

One day pretend to be a friend

The next day in hell I will spend

The truth I cannot discover

I will smother in my soul's grief

My mind the thief won't recover

~Gunnar~

Jeffreys Sonnet

A Jeffreys Sonnet was created by Scott J. Alcorn. It is isosyllabic (only 8 syllable per line), 2 sestets with a cross rhymed couplet (the cross rhyme is in the 2nd to 4th syllable in each of the two lines of the couplet). Also there is a cross rhyme in the first line of the 2nd sestet (between the 2nd to 4th syllable), tying the 1st sestet to the 2nd. So the rhyme scheme would be: aabccb, (b)ddeffe, (e)g (g)e. The letters in ( ) are the cross rhymes.


Example #1:
Miles Away

A thousand miles away- I hear,
your soft whispered voice so clear.
The gentle hush, of evening’s sigh-
Yet alas, you’re so far away.
My heart yearns and drifts where it may,
a longing I can not deny.

So down I lie- night slowly falls
and in dreams I restlessly call.
Yet, you’re not there to hear the plea.
Oh, how my heart weeps in longing…
Pervasive, tangible, yearning…
You’re still a thousand miles from me.

Distance I see- in between.
My love, unseen, and miles from me.

Copyright © 2006 Scott J. Alcorn

B is for Burlesque

B is for Burlesque

by

Gunnar Raven

A Burlesque poem does not necessarily incite people to take their clothes off. It is a poem utilizing ridiculous subject matter. Satire is a form of Burlesque.

A lot of people don't seem to understand Burlesque, which is why they'll never understand the flavor of Undead in the Netherworld. That's okay, though, we'll keep on doing what we do, regardless.

I'm tired, but let me see if I can serve you up some poetry.

Ode to the Netherworld

A highbrow, illustrious land is the World of Nether

Everyone there is so suave, and they dress up all in leather

They allow none in their club but the best of the best

If you don't meet the highest standards, then you're just "the rest."

If you're not the cream of the crop, then all shoulders turn to ice

If you aren't the properest of proper, the reception won't be nice

No weirdos, rejects or freaks will the Netherworld allow

You won't even get in the door unless you're the highest of highbrow

Everyone in the Netherworld is so sophisticated

If you're even second best, be prepared to be underrated

You must dress up every day in your finest of attire

They serve only brie and melba toast while angels play the lyre

If you're looking for a place that loves the oddballs and the freaks

Keep on looking, Loser, the Netherworld allows no geeks

Since you'll be rubbing shoulders with the finest of the fine

Be sure to bring lots of money so you can buy the finest wine

You thought that Heaven had high standards, well the Netherworld has higher

For the minorest of faux pas, you'll be thrown into the fire

It's a green and pleasant land, except nothing's green or pleasant

If your blood isn't the bluest blue, you'll be treated like a peasant

And now I've told my story about this terrible place

If you even look like riff or raff, you'll be thrown out on your face

The Netherworld's the kind of place where no-one can have fun

I'm such an awful liar, t'is time for me to cut and run

~Gunnar~

This poem lives up to the Burlesque style, as it flies in the face of facts that have been previously established. In our mythology, the Netherworld is actually a very accepting place and is home to all variety of rejects from all over the Multiverses.

Please visit Undead in the Netherworld and enjoy prose in the Burlesque tradition as well. It's irreverent, it's ridiculous, and it's just how we like it!

Gunnar's Silent Sunday I: Harried and/or Horrified Harriet