Sonnettics

Sonnets were made for triathletes! Okay, maybe not, but they work very well. Why? Because they have 3 quatrains. A triathlon sonnet devotes a quatrain to swimming, one to biking, and one to running. The sonnettic volta can come anywhere in the poem. It’s probably going to be somewhere when the writer/racer “turns” from strength to sheer determination! The final couplet of the triathlon sonnet is usually a realization that triathlon is a way of life. Here is one for all you triathletes:

The Final 26.2 of 140.6

The swim was just a minor 2.4
A contact sport because of this: mass start
I didn’t know what pain was yet in store
But I could feel the pounding of my heart
Transition placed me quickly on my bike
A century, and then a dozen more
I don’t recall a thing I didn’t like
Except to know I still had one thing more
A marathon, my third, but not my last
The slowest marathon I’ve ever run
It’s true, I’d started hours in the past
But hours yet before my race was done
It’s Ironman; it’s more than just a race:
A Way of Life that nothing can replace!

I wish they would have left me there to die
I wouldn’t give a fuck about the shit
I deal with now, like wishing I could cry
Or sucking up to try and deal with it

Nobody gave a shit that I’d been robbed
Of more than just the year of time I lost
Nobody understands tears I’ve sobbed
Nobody cares how much it fucking cost

I’d give them back their nickles and their dimes
They think they paid the price; I think they’re high
If life was fair they’d have to face their crimes
I wish they would have left me there to die

I never asked for help to stand and live
But people think it’s theirs to fucking give.

My second chance at life will feel complete
While sitting by the fountain in the park
I’ll watch the children celebrate their feet
By dancing in a festive water lark
I hope my daughter dances there as well
I’ll hold her precious hand and kiss her face
She’ll be a happy story I will tell
As we commune with joy within that place
I’ll sit beside her mother, Beauty’s Queen
My Princesses are mine; I am a King!
Their happiness is more than I have seen
In life before or dreams my life would bring!
I can’t believe I’ll be a lucky man
Who’s second life is more than I could plan!

Forever never stops, but it can pause
Like pausing for a breath when life gets fast
I tell myself that this must be the cause
Of feeling like eternity won’t last
But life is not a race to win or lose
Eternity’s a journey; take your time
Forever isn’t something that we choose
When hills appear, it’s true, we have to climb
Life’s journeys rise and fall with chance or fate
Forever isn’t flat; that would be dull
We just believe we’re early or too late
Forever’s just a storm, each pause, a lull
So catch your breath, press on, there’s more to do
Forever never stops for me and you.

My Little Song mp3

I’ve learned to like the little song I am
Complexity is simple in my song
The measure of each note contains a dram
Of metaphoric medicine that’s strong
My pharmacist deserted me, but still
I’ve learned to sing within my broken heart
I know some folks would quit; I never will!
I like to make hard work a work of art!
It’s who I am; it’s what I am. To be
The Bard proclaimed is half of what we ask
I think that it’s the better half of me
My little song is me; it’s not a mask
And now I know it’s simple, strong, and real
I’ll sing it out, and hope that you will feel.

Anoint me with your soft and tender care
Until I can’t feel anything but you
Depending on the love you bring to bear
Remembering the things I want to do
Explicitly, I’ll give my words their task
Your soul will feel the warmth within my heart
Intensity enkindles when you ask
Light-heartedly, if I’m prepared to start
Or if I want to take it slower still
Validity is not the force I seek
Except to have you validate my will
Yestreen I dreamed I listened to you speak
Of how you came to touch my wanting soul
Until I felt your skin, and lost control.

My Song, My Dance, My Love mp3

I am inclined to sing my little song
Although I must compose it first, I know
I don’t know if it will be short or long
But listen, please, before I’m called to go
Like waiting for the rise of a refrain
The audience enjoys me, you will too
If, like a patient friend, you will remain
Until the music ends, and I am through
I’ll come and ask you quietly to dance
I’ll turn and take your precious hand in mine
Your beauty makes it more than circumstance
Our dancing will be more than just divine
I found my love in you and we belong
Together. Be the chorus of my song.

I woke from what I thought was just a dream
Unsure if I had woken, like a chick
That sleeps within an egg. Where it can seem
That certainty is just a bloody trick!
I “cheep” within my shell, but no one hears
My little songs or even cries for help
They represent my deepest, darkest fears
I’m not a chick at all; I’m just a whelp
But dog or bird, my noises are ignored
My dreams are cacophonic when I sleep
I hope my dreams become a true accord
I hope there’s peace and beauty I can keep
But sleep without a dream is pleasant too
If I awake and find I’m next to you.

I used to think I had a lot to lose
And then I thought I lost it all, and more
As if the things I thought that I would choose
Were all the things my choices would be for
I told my friend I lost a lot of life
She smiled and touched my shoulder with her hand
I know she knew I felt the pain and strife
That lives beyond the voice of our command
She asked me what I really thought I lost
I stopped and gave her question time to rise
Like bread from dough I kneaded and I tossed
And then I looked into her precious eyes
I saw the aswer there; I had to sing
I said, “I didn’t lose a goddamned thing!”

I used to think it mattered what I wrote
But now I’m not so sure; they’re only words
The words are all around me, and I float
In filthy water, navigating turds
I thought that Peace and Beauty might be found
Within this sea of life; I swam across
When all I had to do was swim around
And just avoid the waste and fecal loss
I wanted someone with me, so I paused
And treaded water, waiting for a friend
I didn’t know the tempest I had caused
Within my teacup, hoping to transcend
The tides of life, the loneliness, the turds
With what I wrote, but hey, they’re only words!