Italian Sonnet Poems | Italian Sonnet Examples

I need a break, a minute’s breath of space; The furious tempo driving me along, a fussy temper, fervent all day long to strive, stress, toil, scramble to keep the pace— —the pace of a spent poet keeping face;— enough to numb a hand that once inked strong words, and made paper sound loud as a gong.— and what a base...

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A sudden darkness veiled the world below. Luna was defused by a shadowed sky, giving cause for Earth to be wrought with woe. Something strange caused the night to go awry as a shroud covered moonlight's golden glow. My pulse quickened at the phenomenon. I inhaled the floral scent of roses. Snowflakes drifted over garden and lawn. Like a fairytale that one composes, it...

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O’ fluid friend,— —O’ liquid lover, please embrace me, soothe my sootheless, stranded soul—, —caress my restless thoughts, and set them still.— O’ sap of spirit,— —sweet sip of ambrose! O’ potent potion,— —O’ magic mixture, daze me, dazzle me, nuzzle me, numb my frill fringes |—...

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Within a crack in grisly clouds one night I briefly glimpsed the redish-orange hue of the Australian desert poking through— pillars of bunched up puffs, in the colored light of a sleepy sun’s rosy rays,—and the might of such a sight struck my soul’s drowsy blue. So suddenly my heavy spirit flew like a falcon to that unequaled height. And soon returning...

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The argument of silence, absonant, hammers into the pliant mind it’s hard nails of craving.—a spirit thusly marred will yield to any prickle, every scant pressure to give in.—once the foreign implant is firmly riveted, a brain so jarred can no longer trust its levies to guard its thoughts against the inner, speechless “can’t”. Quietudes disturb the peace of silent folk, pounding its forceful...

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Why Poetry? she muses, sat in front of paper, staring blankly, lifelessly at her image.— and really…, who is she to ask the page—in a manner so blunt— to shoulder her excesses? such a stunt surely exceeds the bounds of decency; Soliciting a perfect effigy, she risks paying her Muses high affront.— Still, she dares,—and dares she bold and willing to strike strokes of black...

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When we’re at peace, God’s light engulfs our chest, on top of our head, He places His hand, this epiphany dawning on demand, divine gifts of grace, for which we feel blessed. Employing free will, we ask thoughts to rest, that drenched in bliss mists, soul may understand, God’s omnipresence as we make our stand, in our heart’s cave, where light of...

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My soul’s confession knows no ordinary penance—nor knows, nor feels, another mind the nebulating sorrows therein maligned—. I doubt my own can judge the cemetery of bygone thoughts, dead dreams, and funerary pathways—twisted in patterns twice entwined through one and another—lurking behind my steeple-belled conscience. On the contrary, sermon is held just out of sight of that sinister scene. By holy spirits...

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I wonder, Little Eddie, hypnotized, can it be true you felt no pain at all? Ten years of age, a figure formed too small, and that poor Roadster, a gift you so prized… How could your brother have so despised your car? to pop its tires,—and on the wall— smash it, scratch it, do everything to maul that toy.—Is it true, you...

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A girl,(her long baby blue dress,)was sat a pace behind me(golden earrings gleaming); She smiled(her waterfalling hair fell streaming) to me as I turned to her(eyes!)and at (her freckles sparkled)a glancing cue to chat (in her rosy lips)went teasing,—we scheming— (a grinning wink,)—one kiss, then two or(dreaming), who was the mouse? moreso, who was the cat? At dinner,(candles lit her flickered face,) a...

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A while ago,—you seemed a fantasy— and like a fragmentary apparition or a flutter flitting past my faint cognition —to my buzzing thoughts: you the rose, I the bee. And though my hiving mind, admittedly, swarmed all around a phony superstition, (you—o’ flower), yet,—(and, malintution? aside;)—you roused in me the gayest glee. Now, you go as a prickle—as the sting of a hard...

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“The path appears when we walk upon it ~ That we stumble not, lamp of love is lit” ~ quote by poet Poised in staid silence where no thoughts arise, our heartbeat echoing the cosmic drum, we dissolve in the magnetic bliss hum, illumining form as rays of sunrise. Each breath intake a delightful surprise, Holy Spirit a flame, which we become, erect spine,...

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A woman splayed upon a lofty beach— the drunkard’s stumble-street-strut-jumble-key— BUY NOW, AND GET THE SECOND [this/that] FREE! —and what’s this cracked out weirdo got to preach? …”about the senate’s 3rd bid to impeach…”— .(Get lost.-)—.IF YOU THINK YOU’LL NEVER BELIE— look,look!a man crushed by a falling tree!— —(“oh!—my God!”)—nvm—it’s…freedom…of speech? Get real! Wake up! Which trope must I invoke?— (Uh?)—GET REAL RELIEF...

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Tonight, I won’t write anything at all… I’m throwing in my quill,—who am I fooling?— I’m throwing in my keyboard, overruling my instinct for seriousness,—o how small and earnestly banal…/I mean!, the gall of an Artiste not sat at home drooling on their craft and crafting another grueling chef-d’œuvre,—Bah!—leave that to the alcohol!— —@-tack your ’s-periment__’n’|defend| mine own: for the[object]of this{subject} is Anihilating your nothingness....

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Planting my flag atop my sonnet’s peak and outward gazing at the vales below, I hear the rambling rivers, feel the faux flow and fumble of their groping technique; From high on up, I trace the snaky sneak of weak words—and weaker metaphors,—slow conclusions, mirroring the so and so… I am compelled, my judgement thus to speak: I declare war on free verse...

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