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A Gathering of Poetic Voices

From the Styles of Shakespeare to Petrarch, and Everything Else In Between

Shakespearean Sonnet #142: "The Death of Amethyst"

Come and share with me the sorrows I’ve found

For the once love of my previous life,

A tragic end such met us both to ground---

‘Tis the sudden tale of my ghostly wife.

She was the treasured apple of my eye,

A sweet priden joy of the golden years,

Though quicken’d a chance was her time for bye

She left, soon just as swift as the wind’s sneers

O’er the melancholy of my ache’d heart;

It cried away at my now dying pain

As I slowly started to fall apart

From my very existence being slain.

Lost in death, still our love found happiness---

Ever in mind, the death of Amethyst.

 ... [sneers –voice, cries]


Petrarchan (Italian) Sonnet #103: "Demeter’s Despair"

Why have you left me in the summer’s wane?

Away from my love in the land ahead

to be drag’d down to the depths of the dead,

provoking my sad and angerous reign

on men of this world to suffer my lost—

from almighty HE allowed of this bind;

my daughter, to Death, forever entwined

so I weep, for there is no requite cost

in quarters my feelings turn for her wake

to my grasps in life, thus seasons create.

My daughter, my pride, my seed in joy’s love,

no more, you dwell full in the land above.

Dead in summer’s heat—to cool in autumn’s day,

Microsoft Office Signature Line...I await your return next year in May


Shakespearean Sonnet #27: "The Forbidden Fruit of War (… as told by the Muses)"

A wedding so fair was a sight to see

Of Peleus and Thetis with the gods---

But goddess Eris was nowhere to be,

Furious, she took to confuse the odds.

An apple she toss’d on the food in sight,

Of three goddess want the fruit to claim;

To the fairest… she call’d them all to fight

For the fruit of temptation in false fame.

Almighty a Zeus was placed with the task,

Pass’d down to Paris –the famed Trojan Prince;

To pick a true fairest of him was asked,

The pick Aphrodite his common sense.

To his prize Helen of Sparta was score

‘Tis an unwise choice spark’d the Trojan War.


"The Colour of Ripened Fruit"

I.

I dreamt about the caribs last night—

how intense

a magenta their eyes glew,

bright like the Pitahaya.

or hair that shined, warm

like Kumquats in the sun.

how deep a sanguine was their skin

that blushed

like sweet-juiced Cherries in July.

their lips

as smooth as Mango skin in the peak of its prime

that peel back into a soft smile.

their bodies that bloomed

like that of a Papaya in perfect symmetry…

ah, perfection. sweet, sweet perfection.

my thoughts became clouded with their images—

…their cheeks, flushed a tempting red

like the Fruit of Hades.

such beauty

like the hidden secrets of the Lychee fruit.

II.

my dream became like vines;

entwining my naïve heart with playful visions a fantasy.

they entangle my memory thicker

(like those grown from healthy winery-raised Grapes)

surrounding my soul in a drunken pleasure

—I did not want the caribbean people to fade from my world.


"Lovely, Lovely Succubi"

lovely, lovely succubi

you spread your wings so wide.

enticing men, and make them swoon,

they follow your ev’ry stride.

pretty, pretty succubi

fly high over the lands.

singing your song, and spread your charm,

have them eating from your hands

Evil

Evil

Succubi!

What have You done to us?

You pick Your mate, and suck Him dry,

Then move on when You’re through.

Evil,

gorgeous succubi

entrance’d we are by you.

you twist our minds, and take our souls,

your slaves; you play’d us like fools.


"I Am the Rising Sun, You Are the Waning Moon"

I am the rising Sun,

you are the waning moon.

you are the fleeing salmon upstream

I am the Bear waiting.

you are the threatened chameleon,

I am the Scholar's Eyes.

you are the lone eagle in constant flight

yet, I am your Nest.

you are the setting purplish-red across the horizon,

but, I am the Waxing After-glow amongst the stars.


"My Love Is"

“…my LOVE is too _________,

to have thrown back on my face.” –Loretta Devine.

LOVE …was real once.

it used to Live

dOwn the street.

or moVe through class,

threE hallways back.

LOVE …was always blind.

deliberate gaY looks

cast’d on sOmeone else.

lies Under faint breath

Ruining the mind.

blisSful ignorance.

that girl nExt door…

it Left me behind.

to Follow her path.

love …yourself.

Read next: Brand New
Robyn Welborne
Robyn Welborne

I am an aspiring creative writer who is currently working for my double Associate’s Degree in English. My writing has no limits and no filter. Anything and everything from all genres; if I think about it, then I will write it down. Enjoy!

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A Gathering of Poetic Voices
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