Apr 132012

I have a confession to make.  I used to dabble a bit in poetry.  :shock:  Yes, it’s true.  I’ll even admit that I… (sob)… Heaven help me, but I liked it.

In going through some of my old notes, I came across some samples of said poems.  Now, my take on things may be a little “unconventional” compared to what one might expect from your average poet.  Take, for example, the following Shakespearean sonnet.  It follows the standard structural conventions for sonnets (fourteen lines with three quatrains of alternating rhyming couplets followed by a single rhyming couplet at the end, all written in iambic pentameter), but the tone and subject matter is somewhat… different… than what you see in most sonnets.

So read and enjoy.  Hope you get a little chuckle from it.




Herein lies the body of my friend.
He tried so hard to justify his life.
A gen’rous man, quite hard to comprehend,
Especially by the woman he called wife.

Sure, he’d drink and sometimes womanize
But all was done from generosity.
For his touch on those gentle lasses’ thighs
Let them set their inhibitions free.

His wife, though, never understood her man.
She felt that he should cleave to only one.
Her selfishness (I’ll never understand),
Dealt justice from the barrel of a gun.

Still gen’rous he though, even unto death,
He feeds the worms long after his last breath.

 Posted by at 11:02 am

  4 Responses to “And now, for something completely different….”

  1. Confession, huh? Is that poem a confession?

    We are gonna have a talk tonight, mister!

  2. I used to dabble in poetry also.

    Roses come by airplane,
    Violets come by truck,
    You’re the kind of girl,
    I’d like to …….take out to dinner.

  3. Seriously though, I wrote my first poem in high school:

    Saga of East Jefferson High School

    The smell of burning rubber,
    The odor of gasoline,
    The roar of mighty engines,
    The loud and piercing scream!

    Students in the driver’s seat,
    Grab hold of steering wheels,
    They floor their super powered cars,
    And lay screeching peels!

    But when the drags are over,
    And when the noise has ceased,
    When the students leave the campus,
    And once again there’s peace.

    In the distance you hear a buzz,
    You hear the sirens wail,
    You know for sure it’s the fuzz,
    ‘Cause the winners really fail.

    Barry B. Begault 4/65
    (Oh yeah, and my FIRST poem)

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