Clay Cylinder

Sonnet:

I saw babies’ feet, a neighbour asleep behind windows
Where white paint still chips and curls
On the pink and grey slabs I know
This place, where I once played with girls
And wounded my pastel skin
On a clay cylinder, and remembered the scene
Where concrete towers lit my darkness tall and thin
In a mess that knocked down trees causing no more green
A copy of these landscapes that twinkled
In the twilight without excitement
But with exhaust fumes that still penetrate my lungs sprinkled
By hopscotch, chalked on dirty pavements
That turn the soles of your shoes
Heavy, and black with dust

I have, however, included a sonnet in my portfolio where I managed to remain close to the rules of its form. ‘Clay Cylinder’ is 14 lines in length, and follows an ‘ababcdcd’ rhyme scheme throughout; the penultimate and final line an exception to this rule. The ninth line ‘A copy of these landscapes that twinkled’ poses as the Volta because this is where the voice alters from childhood memories to what presently remains. Sonnets are generally associated with love and I have painted pictures of ‘babies’ feet’ and ‘pastel skin’ which conforms to this by expressing an attachment to a place. I wanted to demonstrate that the environment was sinister, and used nouns like ‘grey’ ‘wounded’ and ‘penetrate’ which highlight this. I listened to ‘Heartburn’ by Polar Bear Poet, which addresses issues around cultures in neighbourhoods. Descriptions like ‘you see, where I come from it rains a lot’ and the repetition of ‘my city ain’t pretty but it’s home/I love it’ were some of the lines that inspired me to focus on some of the more unpleasant but unique scenery around where I grew up.



SONNET 112
Your love and pity doth the impression fill
Which vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?
You are my all the world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue:
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steel'd sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others' voices, that my adder's sense
To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
You are so strongly in my purpose bred
That all the world besides methinks are dead

I have looked at some traditional sonnets to compare how the original form differs from my own. The Shakespearean sonnet follows quite strictly rules of rhyme and meter. It uses a consistent ABAB rhyme scheme and each line is 10 or 11 syllables in length. For this reason, Clay Cylinder would be categorised as a contemporary sonnet, however the rhyme scheme is similar as is the Volta but the content of 112 is very dated with Old English such as ‘o’er’ ‘nor I’ which would not interest an audience at a spoken word event unless used appropriately.
This led me to believe that my viewers would be young adults who can relate to growing up in an urban setting. I have used simple language but made reference to ‘hopscotch’ and ‘concrete towers’ that distinguishes in my opinion, a lower class environment that speaks to my target audience.