Sonnet analysis

Sonnet of a Stranded Man Analysis

Stumbling across the endless desert sand
A hopeless view of an infinite bland
Crossing a rolling grainy heated hell
Tolling music of deathly Reapers bell

I notice Cow the cruel sun bleached his bone
Now Horse drops dead so I wander alone
Crawling across on my endless toil
My strength is sapped and my bloods a boil

Wonder why I went left instead of right
As vultures spin in anxious circled flight
Mind plays tricks, I walk on a breezy shoal
As burning heat and hunger takes its toll

Death cackles darkness just around the bend
Wondering when's this deserts gonna end.



The sonnet that I wrote was about a man who is trapped in a desert. He is lost, delirious and near death. The reader may realize that I wrote the poem in the first person. I imagined that the stranded man had made a sonnet out of madness to pass the time. While he is crawling across the desert he makes observations of what is happening around him. The poem perhaps is overly grim and pessimistic because the man is near so death. Normally this poem would be a hopeless tone of voice. However if the poem is read in an airy giggling manner the reader can develop a distinct picture of a raving mad man.
This poem can be related to life. Like the stranded man we often face feelings of hopelessness, abandonment, and weakness. When faced with these negative emotions we often times seek out help of friends to help us. In this poem I take away these people and explore what would happen when someone is all alone. Perhaps true character measured by what we do when we have no one else around. When all we have is ourselves to reach the oasis will we be strong enough to? Are the strong strongest alone?
The first stanza is pure description of the setting and the situation. From this stanza we learn that a man is trapped in a never ending desert and he travels during the day. He is already delirious, a straight thinking person could probably deduce that traveling during the day is not a very smart thing to do in a desert. We also see that he is already filled with despair and doubt through the line of “a hopeless view of an infinite bland”.
Since a sonnet requires two lines to rhyme together. I would often have an extra line to fill when I had thought up a good one. I then used the extra lines that I had to describe the desert. The line “I think I can hear deathly reapers bell” was written first I liked the idea of the man in the back of his mind knowing that he is probably already dead but still struggling to escape the desert. Then I made its pair by describing the desert again “Crossing a rolling grainy heated hell”. Lines three, seven and twelve were written in this fashion.
I found this was a good way to conform to the rules of a sonnet as well as avoiding saying something that would make little sense and fragment the sonnets flow. Using the extra lines in this way also helped to remind the reader every so often to the current situation of our hero being stranded in a desert and reinforced the feeling of hopelessness that I wanted to achieve through the poem.
In the second stanza he man now sees a cow. In this stanza I used an animal to symbolize people. He sees a creature hose who aren’t strong enough to make the journey through the desert. Just like in school or in life we are often told of other people that made a mistake in life and paid for it. People that I hear that have taken drugs or done other bad things.
I have found it’s quite different when it actually happens and you hear of a long time friend taken to drugs or doing something of similar consequence. The horse in this sonnet symbolizes this long term partnership ending as his mount falls down dead. I often times feel anger “bloods a boil” at the choices that others make as well as weakness “strength is sapped” because I cannot help them.
In the third stanza I talk about some of the things that I am often faced with in life. Each of the first three lines of the last stanza talks about one of these problems or wishes.
The first line “Wonder why I went left instead of right” reflects on how the stranded man got into the predicament that he’s in. He took a wrong turn and wants to take it back. This wishing to take back something that I have done or had said especially with people is something that I think I share with many people. Unfortunately this isn’t possible and we have to work our way out of the “social desert”.
The vultures circling around him seems to confirm his impending doom, constantly pounding the words of failure. Often times we have doubts about things, when were so nervous that we can almost picture our failure. Like vultures this nervousness circles around our minds nagging us in the back of our brains and demoralizing us. The vultures in the sky represent this doubt.
In the third line our hero now pretends that his fate is far away as he creates a place where all of his troubles are gone. He’s aware that it’s just his imagination though and that its only a matter of time until the heat and hunger takes him over. Never the less his dream world is easier to accept and he chooses to live in it. Sometimes it’s easier to do this. Pretending that something is fine when its not. Sooner or later though the hard reality catches up to you, and the man in the desert is going to have to pay for his mistake.
In most movies and books the hero is saved in the end and you find a happy ending, The hero finds it in himself to make it out. I end my sonnet with the last two lines leaving the reader hanging because I wanted to show that we never really succeed at life. That we never do really make it out of the desert, its always a journey and along the way a constant battle to survive. I wanted to send the message that others around you can only help so much and that you have to find it in yourself to survive.
Like the man in the desert we all journey through a desert facing hopelessness, abandonment, weakness, and falseness at times.
Originally I had placed the second stanza at the end. When I thought about it, it made more sense to first see the others failing first and him then faced with failure. By switching the stanzas it paired the illusion lines with the ending lines that talk about death. I also hoped to make it apparent that even though he is struck by a delusion he knows full well that he is walking into one of life’s traps.
I wanted this to be a poem about questioning one’s self reliance. Asking the hard questions of what we truly are after all of the things to help us up again are stripped away. What lies each of our core beings and whether or not we ultimately satisfied with who we are or do we only exist to serve others. The aim of my sonnet was to ask the readers if we have the strength to achieve the things that we desire. Do we still stand strong against what life can throw at us? Or are we blown into the sands?

Sonnet of a Stranded Man

Stumbling across the endless desert sand
A hopeless view of an infinite bland
Crossing a rolling grainy heated hell
Tolling music of deathly Reapers bell

Wonder why I went left instead of right
As vultures spin in anxious circled flight
Mind plays tricks, I walk on a breezy shoal
As burning heat and hunger takes its toll

I notice Cow the cruel sun bleached his bone
Now Horse drops dead so I wander alone
Crawling across on my endless toil
My strength is sapped and my bloods a boil

Death cackles darkness just around the bend
Wondering when's this desert gonna end.

The Dreamspinner

My ghost is a crafty one; she strikes at anytime, maybe in the car, when I am doing homework, or in the shower…
Sometimes she is welcome. I let her control me, in awe as she conjures the infinite parade of possibilities limited only to my imagination. I pick one. Then she helps me bring it to life, bestowing limitless energy, keeping me up to wee hours of the morning. Working like a mad man, my will undaunted, my mind unfogged and sometimes myself unbathed, my ghost fuels me. I am obsessed with breathing life into my creation. All other things come secondary. In those times her name is Inspiration and she is my most powerful ally.
Other times she comes uninvited. Normally when I need to get something very boring or tedious done. Never stopped by the binding chains I keep the raging demon Anger in. She slips through, and slowly works her way into my soul. Suggesting, whispering, tempting, she slowly gains control. Without me realizing it she soon has me doing something much more interesting. Then when she is through with her game, her image and inspiration are blown away into the laughing frigid night air. She’s merciless and uncaring about a report due the next day, only interested in what she wants. In those times my ghost is named Distraction and she is my most dangerous enemy.
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I guess this ghost has been with me since I was little. Everyone has an imagination fantasizing about fairy tales, stuffed animals, and knights in shining armor. Eventually, we are supposed to grow out of it. I however refused to let her go and with me she stayed. Changing herself to better appeal to my age as I grew.
She became one of my greatest tools to me to do what I wanted. With her at my side nothing seemed impossible. If she found them interesting she granted me amazing powers.
I have always searched for new ways to do things. And I am easily impressionable because of her. If I don’t watch out she will often times inspire me to unachievable goals. Which after many hours of toiling I will finally realize are impossible. Many undertaken projects in my room lay untouched because of her.
My ghost’s power grew as I continued to feed her year after year. She became powerful enough to challenge me for dominance at times. Her power is great enough so that she is almost able to break free from me. I should have known that a full blown confrontation was bound to happen soon.
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She comes during my homework, unwelcome. Tonight my ghost takes the shape of a hauntingly beautiful pale demoness. She often changes her appearance to whatever provocative form she feels like. She is after all, an immortal.
“What’cha doin’?” she asks glancing over my shoulder mildly amused as she inspects her nails. It seems she is unsatisfied with them and they lengthen and morph to a rich dark red to match her lipstick, a haunting look, contrasting her pale powdered face and perfectly pointed white fangs.
“Homework, go away” comes my short response. I don’t look at her, fearing distraction.
She ignores my rudeness, already used to this kind of treatment during my homework sessions.
“That’s so boring,” she yawns and stretches.
“Wouldn’t you rather do something else?” she bumps my pen to the ground. I bend to pick it up, and notice the video game lying underneath; I frown and try to continue.
“Yes, but I have to finish this tonight”
“Oh” she says absentmindedly as she fiddles with my colored pencils They take a life of their own for a while and twist themselves into indescribable bizarre and intriguing shapes and patterns.
“I thought you had a break tomorrow.”
“I do but it's only half an hour” I say my voice beginning to strain.
“So?” she asks as she fans a cloud of dust into my face making me sneeze.
I finally get annoyed with her.
“Go away, you're distracting me!” I wave her away.
At those words my room melts away, it’s just me and her standing on a small island. Large blind fish swim in the black water, the only other life in the misty gloom that I can see.
“Ahh, but am I not your inspiration as well? Do I not help you birth your ideas or fill you with passion at times?” Her sweet voice begins to sharpen.
“Long ago you sold Focus to me.” Eyes begin to dance with fire.
“I am your dream spinner.” Her fury now barely contained.
“I made you the sculptor of realities.” A beautiful face twisted in rage.
“Are you not happy!?!” Her voice finally reaches a booming crescendo pounding in my ears filling the black void. I try to hide, but everywhere is filled with ringing accusation.
I nearly drown in the noise. It tosses me uncaringly as the sea throwing me against the rocks nearly pounding me to oblivion. I see an island, desperately I swim. I make it, exhausted I lie in the sand.
She appears and bends down to talk to me. Her voice is soothing and clam, not a trace of malice that she had just a minute ago.
"Don’t you realize that you need me? I am a part of you. Cross me again and I will break you."
“Your imagination is the limit…” I find myself back in my room. Picking up a pencil. Her pale face is now a wicked smile. I can feel her frozen breath as she watches behind me.
My neck prickles. She’s right it think to myself. I can't fight her. She's in everything I do now. To exorcise her is like killing a part of me. On the other hand If I don’t destroy her she will forever haunt me. One day during our desperate power struggles I may no longer be master, but slave. Am I willing to live with that?
"Yes." I say aloud.
Her grin grows wider exposing more glittering teeth
"Good" she says as though reading my thoughts
I hesitate.
I hear her voice, barely a whisper into my ear.
“Now, let me take control.”