Balcony Shisha Bar, Lygon St.

vintage-1794658_1280

The last time I fell
out of love was the
first time I stepped
into a shisha bar.

After the smoke cleared
and mirrors disappeared,
your silhouette stood stark
against the charred stars
and you gifted that bright
crescent smile to your tiny
light brick, as my mouth
filled with soot-stained
darkness.

I learned how vast the universe
could be through the centimeters
of infinite space between our
barely brushing shoulders.

You held the milky way
in your lungs so effortlessly
as I choked on the aftertaste
of faint, artificial strawberries,
to think I held my breath hoping,
that you or us could be real.

Briefly: Sonnets

Hey guys, how have you been?

I’m taking a poetry class this semester and it’s so much fun. I’m learning a lot about the history of various forms, reading so many great pieces I never would have found myself as well as experimenting with these new mediums. I thought I’d ‘briefly’ share what I’m learning and discovering with you guys in the hopes that you’ll learn something too 🙂

Disclaimer: I’ll always try provide the most accurate information possible but if I misinterpret something I’ve read or my lecturer has said or if my imitation of a style doesn’t actually quite work for some reason, absolutely let me know so I can try improve!


This week we learnt about the sonnet, which I’ve discovered can be absolute gems to read despite, or perhaps because of how short they are.

History:

A sonnet is a form of poetry composed of fourteen lines & usually iambic*, originating from Italy with two main subsets: the Petrarchan sonnet and the Shakespearean sonnet.

Francesco Petrach (1304-1374) brought widespread attention to the form in his book – Canzoniere, a collection of 366 poems, of which 317 were sonnets written to an idealised lover, Laura.

Believe it or not, this is where the Petrarchan Sonnet was born.

Form: 8 lines/6 lines, rhyme scheme*: ababcdcd (octave) / cdecde (sestet).

Content: one of the most distinctive markers of a sonnet is the change in tone between the two sections of the poem, whether it’s initially asking a broad question in the first stanza and then providing an answer in the second or something else, there must be some type of shift in perspective.

Interesting fact: By looking at the rhyme scheme, you can tell that Italian has much more rhyme built into its language compared to English.

Two hundred years later, Thomas Wyatt became one of the first champions of the sonnet in England both translating Petrach’s work and creating his own. His friend & contemporary, Henry Howard, the Earl of Surry also tried to do the same. Both men are known for making modifications to the structure to make it more suitable for English, creating what is now known as the Shakespearean sonnet.

Why is it called the Shakespearean sonnet? Quite simply, Shakespeare was good at it, wrote a lot of it and was the one that really popularised the form in English.

Form: 8 lines/4 lines/ 2 lines, rhyme scheme: ababcdcd / efef gg.

Content: the couplet (gg) at the end of the poem is crucial as it differs the SS (Shakespearean sonnet) from the PS (Petrarchan sonnet) in that it could introduce a crescendo to the poem or introduce a quick turn of events and go against everything else said in the poem.

One of my personal favourites, out of the very few I’ve read: (Sonnet 65, William Shakespeare)

Screen Shot 2017-03-09 at 4.30.26 pm.png

Continue reading “Briefly: Sonnets”

stars, space & an empty place

paint_the_sky_with_stars_by_borda-d2hejtl.jpg
image courtesy of: borda

she remembers that night,
no stars dusted the evening sky
but their residual light
flickered in his wandering eyes
and how she desperately wanted to hold –
his gaze, hand or mind
for them to share a hazy moment
in suspended time

too bad
he was on the other side
of an unfamiliar room
filled with mutual strangers
maybe with enough imagination
they could have been
the newest constellation

already tenuously connected by
some star-struck fate,
but too scared or sober
to name this new feeling or shape
much less ask if he
maybe thought the same

it’s funny how
she has learnt all about
the grand, infinite universe
but her saturday night silence
still felt like the most empty
and hopeless space
that she has ever known

 

sommelier

alcohol-drink-glass-drinking.jpg

I will never be
the girl who keeps
a sharp tongue
locked behind smirking red lips,
her canines ready to pierce
the throbbing hearts
of sweat drenched men.

swirl their blood
around her mouth
like cheap shiraz,
a goddess
would never swallow
a poor man’s lies.

she tastes
these complicated
and interlaced notes
of desire and desperation
like a true sommelier
of sleazy drunkards and
self purported ‘gentlemen’
different varieties
off the same vines (veins)
never quite good enough
to pair with her tannin-coated heart

Continue reading “sommelier”

fragile selfish beings

tumblr_obvpv9N2t81qinh1vo1_1280.jpg
Source: Unkown

we are flesh
wanting flesh

walking sadness
searching for a similar
brand of pain-stained soul

so we can rub warm tears
into each other’s wounds
sanitise our weary hearts
under the light of these
indifferent, dying stars

hoping our battle scars
do not pull new blood
from strangers’ veins
but we do not care enough
to wait for the judgement
of the summer sun
let the casualties rest
in the dark

oh these fragile, selfish beings
that we are

oh these fragile, selfish beings
that we love

long distance – 4614

road_night_version_2_by_arsenixc-d71cz2f
Image courtesy of: Arsenixc

we are missing
and I no longer remember
where I misplaced us
perhaps our hearts
sunk to the bottom of the
Tasman sea when I moved
away from home?

I thought if I packed my bags
full of photos and love notes
I could make a scrapbook of
our story but I guess
scraps are just the meaningless
edges of what I clung onto
too tightly and torn too carelessly
and these tears cannot be mended
just wiped away.

Continue reading “long distance – 4614”

faux snow white

snow_white_by_viccolatte-d8ch2ln.jpg
image courtesy of: Viccolatte

knock-off snow white
vain and full of lies
don’t be so hasty
in calling me
the apple to your eye
because I am not the type
who needs you to survive

and I will always love
the idea of you
more than I love you
but if you say it first
I will always reply with
“I love you too”
(that’s what the mockingbirds
said I should do)

so mirror mirror
on the wall
who’s the most heartless
of them all?

but don’t despair
if you’re just looking for a good story
I can promise you this:
I may be a bad apple
but the first bite
will ooze a thick sticky happiness
that chokes and leaves you breathless
it’s a perfect nightmare
that a kiss cannot awaken you from

girl by the sea

large.jpg
Source

do you remember
the time you cried
as the midnight waves
washed away
her sea foam love
as I tried to drag
your listless body
back to shore?

do you remember
the time vodka and mistakes
ran through my veins
and I clung desperately onto
something, anything
to anchor myself
in this maelstrom of life
and you became
my false sense of security?

because I remember
when you told me
that you were starting to like
the girl who lives by the sea
shy, kind and sweet
salt-stained hair
and sunset cheeks
I guess I stopped listening
when you confessed
that you still yearned
for the mermaid
who didn’t stay,
and that’s when you became
my next mistake.

Continue reading “girl by the sea”

the all or nothing type

luck-839037_1280.jpg
to the boy I met when I was 17

baby,
will you still love me
when this facade of youth
fades as we age
and the wrinkles of time
kiss these round cheeks of mine
like you have done
a million times over?
what about when
moonlight tumbles
into my midnight hair
and the memories we shared
slowly disappear
will you stay right here
and hold me close
as we watch
our last sunset?

Continue reading “the all or nothing type”