Monday, February 16, 2009

The Most Dramatic Sonnet Ever.

I know I put a teaser out there for a high-drama, ultra-deep sonnet, written during my Sophomore year of college. I know I did not deliver it during my Valentine's extravaganza. But trust me, I have my reasons.

It turns out that, upon further review, the sonnets I wrote back in 1996 are rather...dreary. They're sort of the opposite of love-inspiring. They're very full of themselves and make me wonder...what was I so gosh darn introspective about when I was all of 19?

Also, why did I write a sonnet about a guy being super into me? So unlike me, and...Did that ever even really happen? When I was 19?

I guess maybe I learned a valuable lesson back in Lambert Hall, circa '96. It's a lesson that I am only now fully realizing: when you write a poem it doesn't necessarily have to be about your exact life. I mean, I wasn't claiming to write my biography here, so don't go throwing the book at me, a' la James Frey.

It's called artistic license, peeps. It's called writing a sonnet about my favorite jeans being stolen from the dorm laundry room just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Without further ado, I give you:

“He Knows”

He tells her now and then that she’s a queen,

His words unnecessary to her ears.

She finds his love and faithfulness between

His fleeting, knowing glances when she nears.

He mentions that he knows he’s worth the chance.

She smiles, says “Perhaps”, and walks away.

He knows that they together make a dance.

She wonders why love does not work that way.

Patiently, he waits for her to notice

That through it all he’s been right by her side.

Alone, unchanged, she challenges his motive,

Still knowing his intentions could not hide.

One step behind, he follows her and waits.

She walks ahead, her conscience she berates.

-Shannan Garber


(PS - My five sonnets earned a check mark on a scale of "checkmark -" to "checkmark +", right smack dab in the middle, just in case you wondered. Who else agrees that I got robbed? Raise your hand!)