Raven's Wing Poetry » Nicholsonian Sonnet

If You Want A Boxer

ravenswingpoetry — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 14:47:56 +0000

This was written off of the lyric and verse challenge prompt on Poets Who Blog Interactive. The prompt was to write a poem with the first line being any lyric in the Leonard Cohen song, “I’m Your Man”. WARNING: this one is quite bitter and caustic. If you’re not in the mood for this, come back and read another day.

-Nicole

If you want a boxer, then why don’t you
go punch someone else? My skin is not
a leather casing which contains a few
million grains of sand inside! You forgot

that I stand before you as a human,
bruised, battered, sore from all the times you got
angry and I was the first one to stand
in your way. Don’t give me that bloody rot

about how I supposedly made you
lose your religion: believe me, I’ve got
your number now, and I now know that you
have no self-control. I’ve taken a lot

of abuse from you, but no more. Time’s up.
I’m not listening anymore, so shut up.

Written 6/12/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Excalibur

ravenswingpoetry — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 18:27:06 +0000

This is a poem written off of another prompt on Scott Woods’ journal. Today’s prompt: write a poem that is a letter to an old teacher. Enjoy.

-Nicole

Dear Mr. Kinney: thank you for giving
me Excalibur – the knowledge of great words
and how to use them. You showed the living
soul of advanced vocabulary heard

never before by sixth grade ears: words such
as “potentate”. You called them “college words”
and gave a weekly list to study, much
to the chagrin of some – but I loved words

with power and meaning. They were weapons
of mass creation, language swords which spurred
me to arrange them in poetic configurations
and proper prose. So what if I’m a nerd:

For I wield a vocabulary sword.
Thank you, teacher, for an ageless reward.

Written 6/10/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Stumble It!

Feline History

ravenswingpoetry — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 16:06:22 +0000

An ancient Egyptian figurine of a cat in the Louvre museum. Courtesy of Wikipedia.

This was a prompt poem written in response to One Simple Impression’s prompt this week on pets. Instead of a haiku, though, I ended up with a triple sonnet using the rhyme scheme I accidentally invented yesterday (yes, I am going to call it a Nicholsonian sonnet – it’s a takeoff of the Spenserian sonnet form). So here it is. Enjoy.

-Nicole

Long ago in Nippon, I, sitting, waved
a sword at a landlord of great wealth
and caused him to approach me; thus I saved
him from a lightning strike. The man himself

thanked me and christened me Maneki Neko.
In Nordic lands, I enjoyed a fine health
of being sacred to Freyja; for lo,
in service to the love goddess herself,

I pulled her chariot, it is said. I
have carried lovingly the spirit self
of each Siamese king upon death. My
purpose: to ensure that the king himself

would be present to see the coronation
of his son ere he traveled to Heaven.

I also walked with pharaohs, head erect,
a walking image of Bastet herself,
nose held high in the hot air of Kemet.
I wore ornaments of gold, not by pelf,

but as grateful gifts from my admirers.
I ate the finest cuisine that their wealth
could buy. Now, I imagine that inquirers
wonder what happened. I’ll tell you myself.

You see, I cannot be easily tamed,
though you perceived me as just like yourselves,
domestic. I aloof, unreachable, became
wicked, the symbol of witches and devils

because you could not teach me. So then you
christened upon me dark legends anew.

First, you called me the witch’s familiar
and burned my cat kindred en masse. Your health
you naively destroyed; a peculiar
effect which you all wrought upon yourselves

was the Black plague, for we cats killed the rats
that carried it. You knew not what dark health
you called upon your cities. Then, we cats
suffered again, accused of the ill health

of your babies and children. Supposedly
we stole the breath from their lips, and a wealth
of doubt, fear, and lies were enough to cruelly
condemn us as thieves of juvenile health.

You’ve left off all that madness; now a pet
I am, but my history I’ll never forget.

Stumble It!

Father

ravenswingpoetry — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 18:12:41 +0000

My Father

This poem was written for Scott Wood’s LiveJournal writing prompt (“Write a poem inserting the phrase: ‘I love you, but I can’t see you right now’”). The subject matter was partially inspired by the prompt on Simply Snickers, but the poem specifically for that prompt needs to be written still.

This was written as a modified Spenserian sonnet – in short, I misremembered the rhyme scheme, which is [abab bcbc cdcd ee] and wrote it with a rhyme scheme of [abab cbcb dbdb dd]. So perhaps I have created a Nicholsonian sonnet? It remains to be seen.

Anyway, enjoy.

-Nicole
——————————————————-
I love you, but I can’t see you right now.
You are an enigma from beyond the grave;
the facts of your life you never allowed
yourself to reveal. In order to save

your image and essence in my mental
hard drive, I stare at your photographs. They’ve
given me, though, no clue to your parental
absence. I have nothing else of you, save

those pictures, your legal paper trail, and
Mom’s and my memories; I am a slave
to stories passed to me like second-hand
clothing which I still sort through. I forgave

you, but I still need to know – who am I?
Decoding you is where my answers lie.

Stumble It!