A Footy Sonnet and a Giant Greenhouse – Mad Chaos: March 12, 1999

Poem Trouble After the Shower

These early morning entries are coming more the fad now but the only reason I write this early is once again because I was out to late and I have been devising a poem. Regarding the poem, upon coming out of the shower and tapping into my head that I have to get busy with a poem I just couldn’t find one fragment of that concentration. No matter how hard I tried and how much I repeated prewritten poetical lines in my head I couldn’t concentrate.

The Sonnet was not going to be my answer and I feel that I was anxious that I would make a mistake because I wanted to create my next Sonnet in the lost years series. Thus, I compromised in that I started upon a poem that I had already written an idea for and six lines that I would eventually capitalize on. Once I had arranged my first line of poetry the rest came fairly clear but I wasn’t expecting too much. However, I did create a six line poem that is virtually half a Sonnet with a quatrain and then a couplet.

A Short Sonnet About Evolving Literature

The Sonnet I am to recite in this Diary is about how all parts of literature and prose have evolved from the olden Medieval days. Since the birth of time each form of literature has been upgrading and changing to meet new desires. As the poem will speak, Old English became Modern English of today where most of those words are now obsolete.

The bards or minstrels of those days that sung tunes of Old English have now evolved to be musicians or producers of today. Playwrights like Shakespeare who wrote epic plays have now become archaic and have paved the way for today’s producers of movies. Also, the prose that they used to write back in the days matured into other facets and one of those was a Novelist of today. Back then a novel was unheard of and because of old prose, novelists are abundant today.

The poem goes on to say that everything on this still young earth that does and doesn’t involve literature has evolved. Yet, the point of the poem is realized in my last line and that is the fact that poetry has still remained poetry regardless of how much time has elapsed. There are more poets today then there ever were and poetry is just as blooming as it was in those days, it hasn’t changed. Therefore, with that thought I will now start the poem…

Old English ‘tis deemed that ‘twas once new-sprung,

That bards did praise this musician’s archaic,

Playwright’s epic plays are producer’s young,

And infant prose swam not Novelist’s lake,

Our earth though still young has evolved much worth,

Yet poetry still to poet gives birth,

Rewriting a Line of Scottish Pride

Having just gone through all of my past Sonnets in the last couple of months I came upon a more recent one created in February. The Sonnet under scrutiny is called ‘That I shall brave death, that brave-death I shall’ and reading upon it I came across a line that didn’t appeal to me as much as it should have. The line I am referring to is ‘That matters not we are outnumbered thrice’ and after some careful deliberation I decided to change it.

However, in the original print of this poem in this Diary I have decided to leave it unhindered except for a little notation that leads it to this entry. The new line positioned at (1.12) which is the line before the last couplet now reads ‘That this proud Scottish heart shall hail thee thrice’, more dynamic if you ask me.

The new meaning of the line is that the warring warrior feels such a patriot to his Scottish country that he shall hail it three times. He is proud to be fighting for his country and his lands and therefore, his proud heart (like that of Braveheart in the final battle) lets his voice soar high as he charges towards the enemy, fearless whether he dies or not.

For the reason that I have created another line that I will now use eternally I will print the third quatrain again, just shy of the last couplet for better understanding. If ever my poems do become famous this line will come under scrutiny or a glutton discourse but I feel it is better for some controversy…

For Scottish freedom does this proud heart kill,

And I shall, Scottish freedom with this price,

And I for you, loyalist blood shall spill,

That this proud Scottish heart shall hail thee thrice,

Another Flaw in the Biorhythms

Now before I head off in these early hours of the morning let me just note that there has been another damn flaw in my Biorhythm Cycles. I’ve miscalculated the mental cycle by one day but it’s back in kick right now, all repaired, no damage. Now I find that I should be two nights out of my normal positive mental cycle but by my older calculations, my poetical flare should have started on the 10th of this month.

There are two ideas I would like to comment on but because time has caught up to me I will have to aid them in another chapter. Therefor, I can’t note also on my night at ‘Subway’ but seeming it wasn’t that special, it can wait.

Poetry Before Bed

Friday 4:56 p.m.

There has only been twelve hours to pass between us but yet, I could not resist the temptation of a newfound poetry. Flare is once again capitalizing on my creativity and as I got to sleep this early morning at 6:00 a.m. I started to think of two things. The first was what kind of letter would I write to a publisher to really draw attention to me and bring me out.

Thinking of what I would say I knew it would have to start poetically and thus, I jumped out of bed and started writing a couple of lines. Staying up for the next hour and a half I worked on this poem and another but this four line quatrain needed no extensive changes upon it. Shall I now print it…

I will not die unless I have lived,

And in these sonnets and poems I live,

And these I entrust, I trust you’ll judge fair,

As with good judgment, do hereby declare,

A Sonnet for The Footy Show

The second poem was inspired by ‘The Footy Show’ as lately they have had famous poets doing their commercials and they asked people to write in their poetry with a videotape so they can give them some airplay. I thought nothing of this until Shawn and Keith usheringly said “There you go, do that”. At first I paid no attention but in these early hours of the morning I started to think about it and by the time it was 7:30 a.m. I had created 12 lines.

However, one or two lines of this Sonnet which has just been completed has been taken loosely from other poems of mine. There are ten syllable lines in there that I didn’t care to use because they were the better of my ideas but like a child, I was eager to put them in action. Here it is then…

I’ll crown and serve proud, this emblem I wear,

Fear is a vulture that plucks my chord,

But he shall starve when I enter this field,

Where dreams may dwell in an ambitious roar,

And heroes may become of what ne’er yields,

I am, but a steadfast warrior here,

That I tread, kick and grip with my spiked boots,

I’ll roughen this once serene field with fear,

I’ll play my best hand till the siren hoots,

A breath, then I shall of sweet ether’s air,

As time in this air marks my history,

Proudly, upon my battle, I shall stare,

Where I don’t see my pain, but my glory,

That I am a King in this game of pawns,

And I’ll watch what will be, new heroes born,

Why My Sonnet Beats the Footy Poets

The poets that were reciting their lore for football sounded too bland to me, they didn’t express too much wordiness. It seemed too modern and plain English to me and even though I feel that my Sonnet has too much of an Old English edge, it still is better told. It doesn’t speak of football openly in the poem but you know it speaks of it. Each month when I am deep in my negative cycle of poetry I ask myself “Will I ever find my groove again” and I really don’t think it will come around fast enough but like a bolt of lightning, I have been struck, patiently waiting.

Staying Home This Winter

Before I run off I might as well share my two points where one is an out of this world idea, well, maybe not. With the Football coming back and television shows booming to a great extent, it’s becoming more yielding to stay at home.

The good television shows are once again starting to appear and even though I’m now the going out person I might just have to be the loner and stay home this autumn and winter. Besides, I’m not going to have any money in these past coming weeks so I might as well.

However, I am more than ever wanting to get out there and get myself a job because I really want a laptop computer and I want a brand new and fast Pentium home computer. The millennium bug is going to squash me if I don’t hurry up and I only have ten months to achieve either a new laptop or a new home computer.

A Greenhouse Seen From the Moon

My out of the world idea involves a large establishment of land, let’s just say middle Australia with all the desert. Imagine creating a greenhouse thousands of kilometers across so that it would vividly be able to be seen from space. Just as the great wall of china is viewable from outer space I would like to see a greenhouse so large that you would be able to see it from the moon.

Not only that, but to paint a picture on the Perspex top of the glasshouse, something like the Virgin Mary. However, the life within the glasshouse will not be affected as the paints will be thin and transparent on the Perspex glass. If there was ever any alien life circulating around Earth, this would be something distinct that they would see and they would know that life existed on our planet, smart life.

The time has come now for me to head to the Gym and while I still feel a touch on the negative side of mentality I shall await tonight’s entry. Let there be more poetry tonight as my mind dwells upon it.