365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)

You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: :)

Thursday, August 27, 2009


Exalted in the happiness of pain,
The world is crowning me with strange disdain!
How proud I’ll be within its reverie:
My wreath’s an honour, undeserved of me.

My rough exterior’s inscribed by hate,
a fitting way to demonstrate my fate.
(Or else, I seem too arrogant, too proud,
rejoicing silently of hateful crowds.)

But like most monarchs I shall take to bed,
a-weary of the honours I’ve received.
And soon, as words begin to crowd my head,
I realize I have many woes to grieve.

And hate accumulates as pride grows dim…
the world is mine, and yet I serve its whims.


  1. Thank you! It's a somewhat re-written version of the very first sonnet for this project that I later modified.

  2. VocĂȘ encontrou uma lacuna no Classicismo. Muito bom!
    You found a gap in Classicism. Very good!

  3. Thank you, Enrique for posting in both languages! :) And thanks for commenting too!


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!