Alas this life of sempiternal serendipity
Time’s retinue reneges trust, dillusionment holds my mind
Futile vicissitudes, false pos assurance, life still drifts away

Style: Sijo

• 3 lines in length, averaging 14-16 syllables per line (for a poem total of 44-46 syllables).
• Line 1 introduces the situation or theme of the poem.
• Line 2 develops the theme with more detail or a “turn” in argument.
• Line 3 presents a “twist” and conclusion.

Alas this life of sempiternal serendipity

Sijo: A Korean verse form related to haiku and tanka and comprised of three lines of 14-16 syllables each, for a total of 44-46 syllables. Each line contains a pause near the middle, similar to a caesura, though the break need not be metrical.

The Spenserian sonnet ABAB BCBC CDCD EE

 Recondite heart fluttered and wild
 In trepidation of words unuttered.
 To her calliblephary he never smiled,
 Wordlessly he sighed, nothing muttered.

 Controverted over rooms cluttered,
 the connoisseur of drink, dish, and talk
 And his obfuscated wife, shuttered
 and fearful of who gawked.

 His parsimounious dalliances mocked
 Her fortitude, her patience, her pride
 Til nothing remained, nothing shocked.
 Silence filled her ears, regretful bride.

 Her heterodox surrender was to codify
 Against her vulgarian jailer - goodbye.

Recondite heart fluttered and wild
In trepidation of words unuttered.
To her calliblephary he never smiled,
Wordlessly he sighed, nothing muttered.

The Spenserian sonnet: ABAB BCBC CDCD EE

Please forgive this brief vignette 
Uttered from my tear soaked lip, 
Undulating in my breast, beset
With my macabre apocalypse.

Upon a dreary crag I met an angry maiden
Ignominy stained even her requiescat
Lackadaisical in stance, eyes grief laden,
Abandoned by society, upon the ground she spat.

She sought a respite from the evil of man
Pontificating sinners, wagging fingers,
Faithless friends, drunk father armed with rattan,
From this society she ran.  Yet still she lingers.

Now a lugubrious phantasm, she was once a base
Hag.  Famous man and his sycophant sent
To destroy.  They couldn’t even look upon her face,
An arrow through her to leave her body rent.

They were warned.
Apocryphal words uttered from an unhinged mind.
They were warned.
The liliputian thigh bone they should not find.

Anthropology will trace this line
Through sobriquet of majesty and refinement
And find only gewgaw remains of the once fine
Bullies and villains sending innocence to consignment

Conan found the bone.
Insular, impermutable fool
Conan broke the bone.
Harrowing act so cruel

The palaver of warriors at their drink
Voracious in their want of praise
Missed the tiny hairy worm slink.
Like chilblains it grew to a brilliant blaze.

Picayune worm discounted by all,
Grew by Sisyphean determination
Magnanimous nature destroyed by gall
Of the heroes murderous celebration. 

Caoranach grew from worm betrayed,
Evocative, lyric pain she displayed,
To cast down a woman, the heroes paid
With salutary destruction of all unswayed.

Froward monster began to plunder
The heroes’ devoir: the peasants’ cattle
Antipathy was her drive to sunder
 Loyal citizens against the heroes in battle.

Locals angry clarfart Conan blamed.
His listless propensity, turning again
To his drink, the locals inflamed.
The monster or Conan must be slain!

One fait accompli led to another.
All the stories told is of Conan’s bravery.
Indolent man, jumped to kill the mother,
Lacuna of his own sin, commits to knavery.

Incongruous rage filled the drunk knight,
He grabbed his armor and sword:
Unmoved by her matronly light,
Her sentient existence again ignored.

Callow fool he plunged into her mouth
His valorous sword put to cruel deed.
Opprobious fool his actions couth,
Life fled and Caoranach left to bleed.

Now I stand, unwilling apoclyptician,
Upon this crag, gongoozler of her eternal bed
Crepuscular maiden her story now my mission
Points to rocks by her blood still red.